Chapter 13

Chapter 13

“Isabelle, may I have a moment of your time?” Caroline came into her chambers without waiting for a reply and shut the door behind her.

“Certainly,” Isabelle answered dryly and shut her book, shaking her head at the intrusion. Was there truly nowhere in the house where she could find a moment’s peace? If it wasn’t her brother or aunt cornering her in the parlour, then it was Caroline dropping in announced.

Clearing her throat, Caroline looked around the small room and turned her nose up at the sparse decorations that consisted of a bed, a dresser, one table for writing, and a basin to wash. Isabelle’s room was by far the smallest in the house, yet she loved having a small corner she could call her own. That was until Caroline had come into the picture.

Her soon-to-be sister-in-law would more than likely turn the space into a dressing room for her many fine dresses once Isabelle had moved out. The thought made her almost ill as she held her breath.

“I wanted to have a word with you about the upcoming ball.” Caroline perched quite uncomfortably on the edge of the bed when Isabelle turned in her chair to face her.

“Ball? I thought the season was done. Why would there be another ball?” Isabelle’s brow creased into a frown.

“I did mention the other evening at dinner that I would give you both some time before the announcement is made. Given the little incident and Lord James’s unease, I thought it prudent to move things up a little. A ball will be held to announce your engagement. It is only fitting now that the season has ended.” She placed her hands in her lap and met Isabelle’s gaze with a pointed look.

I can’t stop this now.

Her heart suddenly beat a little faster as she realized the seriousness of Caroline’s words. She had gone against her family’s advice and was now facing the consequences of her actions. If she had only kept her opinions to herself, she would have had a little more time to come up with a plan.

“Will I be able to invite whomever I choose?” Isabelle swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

Giving her a curious glance, Caroline frowned. “I do not see any harm in that. As long as your guests are noble members of the ton.” She paused for a moment before carrying on. “I must say, I am pleased to see that you are no longer fighting the match with Lord James. Has he done something to win your favour?”

The memory of the kiss sent a shiver of repulsion through her body.

“No, I can’t say that he has.” She shook her head.

A moment of understanding seemed to pass between them, and Isabelle almost felt prompted to ask Caroline if she was happy. She seemed hell-bent on becoming the lady of the house, yet she never seemed to show any other interest in Richard.

“Well, I hope you know that what your family and I are doing is only in your best interest. Lord James will be able to provide a comfortable life for you. You will never want for anything, and I’m sure he will leave you to your own devices once you provide him with an heir.” Caroline nodded approvingly before standing.

Oh God, an heir …

Isabelle’s skin suddenly felt cold as the thought passed through her mind. She had resigned herself to the idea of marrying Lord James, yet her mind hadn’t ventured as far as what that would entail.

Gesturing towards the door, Caroline forced a smile. “I shall leave you to your thoughts. Lord James has confirmed the date of the ball and said that he will be sending you a new dress. At least you won’t have to worry about that.” She paused for a moment as if she wanted to say something else but pursed her lips instead and left the room.

Sitting alone at her desk, Isabelle shut her eyes and attempted to still the violent beating of her heart.

There is no use in panicking now. What is done is done.

She turned back to her desk and reached for the copy of Sense and Sensibility. The memory of Henry ruining the end for her brought a smile to her lips. She would miss his company when she was married, but perhaps she could see him again, just one last time before she faced the gallows.

Reaching for her quill, she dipped the tip in the ink pot before scribbling a note across an empty scrap of paper.

Dearest Lord Montague,

I hope this note finds you well. I am writing to inform you of the bitter ending to our heroine’s story. The lady is to attend one final, dreary ball before resigning herself to her fate. After much consideration, she has come to the conclusion that she must follow through with her family’s plans.

I hope this ending brings you some resolution and comfort, as it has left the heroine with none. You have been a true friend, and while I would have hoped to say goodbye, I realize this letter will have to suffice. May this book serve as a reminder of the friendship we have garnered in our short time together.

Yours affectionately,

The Heroine.

Tears welled in her eyes as she blew on the note, watching the ink dry before carefully folding it and placing it inside the book.

She had thought of inviting Henry to the ball and saying goodbye, but it seemed like a better idea to end things in the same manner they had started.

***

One week later …

“You look simply marvellous.” Aunty Alice practically swooned as she looked at Isabelle’s reflection in the floor-length mirror.

Placing her clenched fist against her stomach, Isabelle fought against the nausea threatening to escape. The heavy purple gown with frills and yards of silk made her feel like a sick peacock that had lost its way to the menagerie. She had never thought of herself as a pretty woman; in fact, she had always relished being plain and never standing out.

The dress, in her opinion, was one of the most garish and ugly garments ever created.

“Lord James certainly has fine taste in clothing.” Her aunt clasped her hands in front of her chest and sighed with delight.

“Does he?” Isabelle managed two words despite feeling ill. The rich fabric clashed with her skin, making her look like someone suffering from consumption.

Aunt Alice seemed annoyed at her response as she pursed her lips. “Hush now. I have been telling you for years that you need to get rid of those dull, earthy tones you are so fond of. You need to stand out at your engagement ball, not blend into the background.” She began to fuss with the hem, making sure that everything was perfectly in place.

Not that Isabelle could tell where the dress started or ended. All the fabric seemed to flow into one giant monstrosity of tulle.

How many fabrics can be on one dress?

“You look beautiful, and I have every confidence in Lord James that he will look after you. You are lucky to have made this match, Isabelle; never forget that,” she said sharply while narrowing her eyes.

“I won’t.” Isabelle gave her sickly reflection one final glance before stepping down from the dressing stool and facing her aunt. “Shall we go? I would hate to keep Lord James waiting after he’s gone to such trouble with the preparations.” She took a deep breath and let it out, trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

Coming forward, her aunt placed her hand on her cheek and smiled. “There is no need to be nervous, child; soon you will be a woman, and then you will see why we have been urging you to settle.” She lowered her hand before smiling sadly at her niece. “We have all felt this way when facing the daunting prospect of marriage, but things will get better once you are settled.”

Will they?

“If I had been blessed with a daughter of my own, I would have hoped that a man just like Lord James would marry her.” Her aunt’s eyes filled with tears as she sighed.

“But what if your daughter never wanted to marry?” Isabelle searched her face, noticing the pain that flickered in her eyes.

“Then I would hope that she understands just how foolish she is being. Marriage and children are the only hope that a woman has for happiness in this cruel world.” She pursed her lips in disappointment, making Isabelle wonder why she had never asked what Aunt Alice had gone through in her marriage. She had never had children of her own, which perhaps was why she felt so strongly about Isabelle and Richard getting married.

Sometimes, it felt to her as if the world were spinning madly out of control.

***

The guests gathered around Isabelle almost as soon as she entered the lavishly decorated hall, offering their hearty congratulations as her aunt stepped back. She decided to calm herself by smiling and nodding while looking around at the lavish decorations.

What seemed like thousands of white roses had been placed in garlands on every available surface. Greenery hung from the pillars while candles glistened on the large chandelier.

“There you are, my beloved.” Lord James came striding towards her, parting the crowd around her.

My beloved?

The words made Isabelle wince as she offered her hand for his greeting.

Bowing his head, he placed a single kiss atop her gloved hand before coming up straight and winking. “Never fear, we are to be married; all is fair in love and war now that the arrangements have been made.”

Bursts of laughter resonated through the crowd as women fanned their faces and men looked on with pride.

Must he always make such a scene?

Isabelle felt a little faint when he reached for the dance card hanging from her wrist and proceeded to fill out his name on every line. Shocked at his forward behaviour, she waited for the rest of the guests to move on before speaking in a lowered tone. “Lord James, I am afraid it will not be proper for us to dance more than twice. Even if we are engaged, we must not be rude to our guests.” She forced an encouraging smile.

“Look at it as a romantic gesture. I will show every man present that you are mine.” He winked at her again and pulled her into his arms as soon as the quartet struck up the first waltz.

Isabelle hardly had time to breathe before he began to sweep her across the floor with his arm firmly positioned around her waist.

“Have I mentioned how lovely you look in your purple gown? Your appearance is positively royal this evening; I am honoured to call you my queen.” He stood on the hem of her dress, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips as she almost stumbled.

Recovering quickly, she forced a smile. “You have not, Lord James, considering the fact that I have only just arrived, there wouldn’t have been any time.” She fought back the urge to ask him not to call her his queen.

Her words made him laugh, filling her ears with a grating sound that worked on her nerves. “You can hardly blame me, my beloved; one moment with you feels like a lifetime.”

I can relate.

Isabelle chose to hold her tongue as he clumsily swept her across the floor, chattering about politics, hunting, and various topics that Isabelle had never cared for in the past. The dance seemed to last for a lifetime before it stopped, and he released her waist.

“Where do you think you are going?” Lord James gripped her wrist and pulled her to his side.

“I was going to get some refreshments. Dancing has left me quite parched.” She winced a little at the pressure when he tightened his grip.

“I shall go with you. I wouldn’t want to waste a moment of our time together this evening.” The dark look in his eyes ignited fear in her chest that she couldn’t explain. Why was he so concerned about letting her out of his sight?

“I can assure you that I am perfectly capable of finding the refreshment table on my own, Lord James.” She pulled her wrist free and took a step back.

His eyes darkened to deep pools of ice that sent shivers of fear down her spine. “When I tell you to do something, I expect …”

“Lord James! I was hoping to meet your betrothed.” An older woman with her husband came sauntering towards them.

The cool look in his eyes suddenly switched to the sickly charming demeanour that usually oozed from his personality. “Lord and Lady Bridgeford, it’s such a pleasure to see you here this evening.” He turned towards them with a warm smile that left Isabelle stunned.

What was that look in his eyes?

Her pulse raced with uncertainty as she looked around the room to see that nobody else had even noticed the interaction. Had she imagined it, or had Lord James just shown her a glimpse of his true personality?

“It is so lovely to make your acquaintance, Miss Sutton.” The older woman with greying blonde hair and brilliant green eyes curtsied, drawing Isabelle’s attention away from her racing pulse.

“Yes, it’s … it’s lovely to meet you, Lady Borenstein …” Isabelle struggled to compose herself as she curtsied.

“That’s Lady Bridgeford, my beloved.” Lord James touched her elbow, correcting her as he laughed.

Swallowing hard, Isabelle let out a shaky breath. “My apologies, Lord and Lady Bridgeford. I am quite flustered this evening.” She placed a hand on her chest and smiled, willing her heart to slow.

The couple laughed in unison, causing the short man’s large belly to bounce as he moved. His balding blond head shone in the flickering candlelight, giving Isabelle something to focus on rather than her fears.

“It is completely forgivable when you are a bride-to-be. I know I was simply overcome with the jitters during the weeks leading up to our wedding.” Lady Bridgeford laughed with a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes. “Oh, Lord James, I heard about your brother’s accident. How is he doing now?” She cocked her head to the side in concern.

“Accident? You never told me about any accident?” Isabelle turned to Lord James with a frown.

“It’s nothing. I didn’t want to worry you.” He smiled at her before turning back to their guests.

“I’m sure that Lord James wanted you to enjoy the evening without concern. My apologies for my wife’s thoughtless remark. Come now, my dear, I think we should let the happy young couple get back to their dancing. It never helps to crowd people when they are nervous.” Lord Bridgeford smiled at them both and led his wife away.

The couple had barely disappeared into the crowd when Lord James rounded on her once again, hissing under his breath. “I will be having a word with your brother about this later this evening.”

“And what have I done other than want a drink of punch?” She stood her ground despite the fear in her chest, not caring if anyone around them heard. If Lord James was going to treat her like a possession, then she wasn’t about to back down.

Hot anger flashed in his eyes as he towered above her and pushed her into a corner. “When I give my future wife an instruction, I expect her to obey me. And don’t think I have forgotten that little remark about dancing with other men this evening. I don’t care how the rest of the ton perceives it; no wife of mine will play the whore …” His words trailed off when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Relief flooded her body when Isabelle looked up and met Henry’s gaze.

“I hope you will pardon the intrusion, Lord James, but I was hoping to ask Miss Sutton for a dance.” He held his head high, barely towering over Lord James as his eyes locked on Isabelle’s.

Henry.

Isabelle’s heart sang with relief as the pit of her stomach fluttered uncontrollably.