Chapter 1

Chapter 1

End of the season, London, 1812

Butterflies.

Isabelle Sutton glanced around the edge of the pillar and noted the many swishing movements of fans.

“Isabelle! You need to stop hiding!” Baroness Sinclair’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife.

Wincing at having been caught, Isabelle appeared from behind a pillar and fanned her flushed cheeks. Her large brown eyes guiltily scanned the group of nearby debutants who shot disapproving glances in her direction.

She had been hoping to go unnoticed for the rest of the evening, yet nobody was ever more determined than a widowed aunt who wanted to see her niece married. Tendrils of her light brown hair tickled the back of her neck after escaping from the elaborate pins.

“Just look at your dress; you have all but ruined the muslin with your childish behaviour.” Aunt Alice vigorously fanned her face, attempting to hide her expression as she pursed her lips into a sour look of displeasure.

Her dark eyes matched the heavy fabric of her outdated brown dress, while her grey hair had been pulled tightly into her signature bun at the back of her head.

“I do not care what my dress looks like, Aunt Alice. I will not be made to dance with another gentleman. I would rather chop this dress into tiny pieces and eat it.” She tilted her head to the side defiantly and raised an eyebrow.

Aunt Alice opened her mouth to respond when she was interrupted.

“There she is, I am so glad that you found her.” Miss Caroline Sedgewick came strutting towards them with the many layers of her ruffled pink dress lifted off the floor. Her dull blonde hair fell flat against the flickering light of the many candles.

“It took me a while, but I tracked her down.” Aunt Alice shot her niece another disapproving glance.

“Isabelle, there you are.” Isabelle’s older brother came ambling towards them.

Richard’s brown eyes closely resembled Isabelle’s. His short brown hair had been combed to the side in a neat wave that matched the ruffles at the ends of his sleeves. The scars on his face were barely hidden by the powder covering his skin. Telltale signs of a childhood illness that could have taken his life.

Lifting her chin and looking down her sharp nose, Caroline addressed Isabelle as if talking to a petulant child. “Now that we have finally tracked you down, you will be pleased to know that Lord James has requested to accompany you during the final dance.” Her voice was high and annoying.

“Must I? I have already danced with every eligible gentleman at this ball. If I haven’t found an agreeable suitor by now, I hardly doubt that Lord James will sway my opinion.” Isabelle shuddered a little at the mention of his name as she felt the pit of her stomach clenching.

“Don’t exaggerate so, Isabelle. You hardly danced with all the eligible men this evening. Besides, they would not seem so numerous if you actually made conversation instead of allowing your partners to drag you over the floor.” Aunt Alice fanned her face more forcefully as the touch of rouge on her cheeks and lips began to smudge beneath the thick layer of powder.

“It certainly felt like it was all the men,” Isabelle turned her head to the side and muttered under her breath. Why couldn’t they all just leave her alone?

Chiming in once again, Caroline admonished her a little more sternly. “Perhaps you should take our advice then.”

The endless pestering grew tiresome for Isabelle as her shoulders rose and fell beneath the effort of her sigh. Caroline hadn’t even married her brother yet, and it was already evident that she wished to marry Isabelle off to the highest bidder.

“You will want to check your countenance, Isabelle. The options for suitors will be few and far between once this ball is over. Winter is about to reach her icy grip into London and leech the city of all suitable men.” Caroline raised her thin blonde eyebrows in a warning.

“I will be thankful for the opportunity to read in silence once they leave.” Isabelle forced a smile and met her future sister-in-law’s gaze, unwilling to back down.

“You are almost twenty-four, Isabelle. Spinsterhood is knocking on your door faster than I think even you will care to admit.” Seething a little with rage, Caroline glared at her.

Isabelle was about to reply when her aunt cut her short, forcing her to swallow her words.

“Here comes Lord James now. Stand up straight, and I will thank you not to make any of your witty remarks. Gentlemen do not like young women with smart mouths,” Aunt Alice snapped sharply, slapping her fan shut in the palm of her hand.

“Evidently, they prefer dolls rather than actual women,” Isabelle whispered to herself before looking up to see the man in question striding towards her.

Lord James Church, the second son of a marquess, met her eyes from across the room and smoothed his ashen blond hair over his head. His smirk, along with the arrogance in his stride, made her stomach churn uncomfortably with repulsion. His cunning blue eyes locked on her as if he were a bird of prey.

I guess that would make me the mouse.

She braced herself for the nauseating onslaught of charm about to be thrust into her unwilling arms. ‘Charm’ which, unfortunately, in the case of Lord James, meant endless talk of all his business ventures and wealth.

“Miss Sutton.” Lord James came to a halt in front of her and bowed, raising his head once again with an oily smirk.

“My Lord.” Isabelle hesitantly curtsied while forcing a smile.

“You seemed quite preoccupied this evening.” His tone was almost accusatory as his gaze moved over her wrinkled dress in judgement.

“I can assure you that I would have preferred to stay at home reading, Lord James. Dancing would have no place in a civilized Society if it were up to me,” Isabelle responded with a tired sigh.

Noticing the glares that her aunt and Caroline were shooting in her direction, she composed herself before being cut short by her aunt. “You must forgive our Isabelle, My Lord. You know how overwhelming these balls can be for a young lady; she couldn’t very well turn the young men down, even if she wanted to,” Aunt Alice answered for her with a forced laugh.

Knitting her brow into a frown, Isabelle hoped Lord James would pick up on her demeanour and leave. Any fool with two eyes could see she didn’t relish the man’s presence.

“I understand, Lady Sinclair. Luckily, I am here now to save her from the hordes,” Lord James addressed her aunt while keeping his eyes fixed on her.

Isabelle could feel the corner of her mouth twitching as she struggled to hold her smile in place.

“It would be a great honour if you would allow me to accompany you during the final dance, Miss Sutton.” She grimaced at the charm dripping from his voice.

It wasn’t the first time Lord James had singled her out at a ball and asked for a dance. On the contrary, he had been pestering her all season, and Isabelle wished he’d get the hint.

“I think …” She had barely opened her mouth to reply when Caroline cut her off.

“She would be delighted to dance with you, Lord James. She has spoken of nothing but your presence all evening. I’m afraid that it may be the cause of contention for many of the other young men. Isn’t that right, Isabelle?” She placed her hand on Richard’s arm and turned to Isabelle with her eyebrows raised.

Richard, oblivious to her plight, simply smiled down at Caroline, leaving Isabelle with no choice but to accept.

“Certainly, My Lord.” The pit of her stomach churned once again when he took the card from her hand and filled in his name at the bottom. Even the flair of his handwriting made her grit his teeth.

“I hope that it will be the highlight of your evening.” He made sure to brush his fingers against her gloved hand as he handed the card back.

Wanting to run, Isabelle accepted the card and wracked her brain for a way to escape. She could say she felt ill or even faint due to the sweltering heat.

Yet she couldn’t help feeling that any such course of action would fuel Lord James’s delusions that she was a complaisant and willing participant. Knowing him, he would chalk her fainting up to swooning in his presence.

I need to escape.

The pressing need to be saved made her heart beat faster when Caroline added to the conversation.

“It will be delightful to see the two of you dancing again. It was such a treat at the last ball. Don’t you think they make a handsome couple?” Caroline looked around their tiny circle for support.

It’s too hot.

Isabelle unfolded her fan and began to wave it in her face as she placed a hand on her hip and shut her eyes.

“A most charming couple indeed,” Aunt Alice added, her voice swimming with awe and romance that didn’t translate to Isabelle.

Opening her eyes, Isabelle felt her chest beginning to constrict beneath her tight corset.

Lord James held her gaze and smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting into a near sneer as Richard echoed his approval.

“I know I certainly will not object to the match.” Her brother sealed her fate with one simple sentence.

I will not object.

The words echoed in the back of her mind like the dull thud of a hammer in the distance. The air in the room suddenly seemed far too stifling as she fanned her face even faster. The light fluttering of fans beneath the chatter of the rest of the guests suddenly seemed as if a swarm of butterflies were about to take flight.

Flight.

She began to panic as her chest rapidly rose and fell with every laboured breath.

Laughing heartily as if he had heard a joke, Lord James winked at her before turning back to her brother. “Careful, Lord Sutton, anyone listening may assume we are already engaged.” He raised his voice for everyone to hear.

A low susurration erupted among the nearby guests as Isabelle began to fan her face so vigorously that strands of loose hair flew past her ears.

“Heavens, that would be something.” Aunt Alice practically swooned as she looked past their heads with a dreamy gaze.

Caroline beamed as she lifted her chin triumphantly in the air.

Lord James’s heart-shaped face and pointed chin swam in her vision until she felt as if she would faint.

This is going to be the rest of my life …

Her eyes darted around the room at the many faces who seemed to be watching her every move. The pressure was almost unbearable when she looked back to James, who held out his hand with a smirk.

“Of course, we would need to keep a tight lid on your biting replies, Miss Sutton, but marriage will fix all of that in due time.”

The quartet began to play a song as if on cue as her thoughts reached their crescendo. If she married Lord James, she’d have to spend the rest of her life suppressing her character and acting like a simpering and obedient wife.

The rest of my life!

“Shall we give the masses what they want, Miss Sutton?” Lord James raised an eyebrow in question.

“No.” Isabelle finally snapped and shut her fan, eliciting a wave of gasps.

“I beg your pardon?” Aunt Alice asked indignantly, looking Isabelle up and down as if she had gone mad.

“I will not dance with Lord James, nor will I become his simpering wife!” She tore her dance card in half and let it fall to the floor at his feet.

Looking up in shock, his blue eyes suddenly seemed darker as his countenance changed.

“Isabelle, what are you doing?” Richard leaned closer and whispered to her when everyone continued to stare.

“Taking control of my life.” She held her head high and lifted the hem of her dress before turning from the group and running straight towards the open doors.

The gasps of shock filled the air with a hum of activity.

I will not be a simpering, obedient wife!

The cool evening air kissed her skin as she ran past the waiting carriages and down the street.