Chapter 14

Arthur found himself plagued with regrets over the way he’d conducted himself at breakfast. It was a difficult thing, letting someone new into his life, but it was a decision he had made when he had chosen to take her as his wife, and he knew that he should honor that choice. She wasn’t asking for much, after all. She wanted to know more about him as a person. Was that such an unreasonable thing to ask for?

Why did it feel so unreasonable? Why did it feel as if she was prying into his innermost secrets every time the two of them spent any time together. He didn’t know. He only knew that she seemed to possess some ability to make him feel as if all his defenses were crumbling, and he didn’t enjoy that feeling at all.

He was determined to try to do better at breakfast the following day—though if she came to him with more personal questions, he wasn’t sure how he would handle it—but he was distracted by an unanticipated event late that afternoon—the arrival of his aunt Olivia Desmond, the Marchioness of Notley.

It was only by good fortune that he was at home to greet her. He hurried outside at the sight of her carriage just in time to see her being helped down. “Aunt Olivia—why didn’t you send word that you were coming?” he asked.

“Well, I wanted to surprise you,” she said, offering him a smile. “Did it work?”

“It did. But I might not have been at home, and what then?”

“Then I would have spent my afternoon with your lovely wife, of course. You didn’t think that I came here to see you, surely?”

She was smiling, and Arthur knew it was a joke. He laughed. “No, of course not,” he agreed. “What would be the fun in that?”

“So where is she?” Aunt Olivia asked. “I must say, I was disappointed not to be invited to the wedding, but I suppose you had your reasons.”

“We wanted to keep things small,” Arthur said. “And I knew you wouldn’t have made it anyway.”

“I don’t know how you can say such a thing. Would I miss my only nephew’s wedding?”

“Aunt Olivia, I have never doubted your love for me, but we both know that you come and go as the wind takes you,” Arthur said. “Perhaps if we had planned the wedding far enough in advance for you to include it in your plans, you would have been there, but you weren’t even in London when we married, were you?”

“I was in Paris,” Aunt Olivia admitted. “You would have adored Paris, by the way, Arthur; it’s marvelous. I can’t believe that in all your travels, you’ve never been to France.”

“Perhaps I’ll try to go sometime.”

“Take Isabella with you!” Aunt Olivia enthused. “I’m sure she would like it, and the two of you would benefit from a holiday together. Why, when my Geoffrey was alive, he took me to every city I wanted to see. I still think our travels together were part of the reason our love for one another was so strong. Perhaps you’ll have the same experience if you travel with your wife—perhaps you’ll find that it ties you together in ways you wouldn’t have been able to experience otherwise!”

Aunt Olivia was always so eager, Arthur thought, and so brimming with positivity. It was difficult to imagine explaining to her that he didn’t want to have that sort of relationship with Isabella. She knew how his parents’ deaths had affected him, of course, but she had always made an effort to persuade him that he should focus on healing and let the past go. There was no hope of getting her to see things his way, and he certainly couldn’t try to explain to her that revenge was more important to him than romance.

He led her inside. Isabella was waiting in the foyer. She had obviously noticed someone arriving and had emerged to see what was going on, so Arthur made the introductions.

“Aren’t you darling!” His aunt came forward and embraced Isabella. “I’m so pleased to see my Arthur has found such a lovely bride. I did worry. I raised him myself, you know, so in many ways he feels to me as if he were my own son.”

“No, I didn’t know,” Isabella admitted. “How lucky he was to have you, Lady Notley.”

“No, please, you must call me Olivia. Aunt Olivia if you will. We’re family now.” She embraced Isabella again. “Now, Arthur, have tea brought out for everyone, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Arthur smiled. Having his aunt in the house never failed to cheer him up.

As they made their way to the sitting room, he noticed that Isabella was giving him a strange look. He allowed Aunt Olivia to pull a few paces ahead of them. “Are you all right?” he asked her quietly. “I know her visit comes as a surprise.”

“You asking me if I’m all right comes as a surprise,” she told him. “You’re not yourself.”

“I’m not?”

“I feel as if just having her here has turned you into a different person,” she murmured. “Someone—someone who smiles. It’s very strange. Don’t mistake me, it’s not unwelcome at all. I like you like this. But I’m not sure what to make of it. Is this what you were like when you were younger?” She shook her head. “Don’t bother. I’m sure it’s one of the many things you don’t want to talk to me about, but I’m glad to have the chance to get to know her. I’m glad she’s here.”

She looked rather flustered, he realized. Her cheeks were flushed, and she wasn’t making eye contact with him. It was as if she was shy—but the idea of shyness in Isabella was so foreign that he couldn’t believe that was what he was seeing. She had always been so blunt with him, so ready to say whatever was on her mind. What could have made her act like this now? Was it just the presence of Aunt Olivia?

He didn’t know. What he did know was that she looked lovely like this, her cheeks slightly reddened and her eyes downcast so that he could take in her long, lovely lashes. He would never have traded the stubborn lady he had come to know for a more timid version of her, but he couldn’t deny that it was alluring to see this side of her personality.

He felt his breath come a bit faster. For the first time, he felt a powerful urge to reach out and take her in his arms. He imagined himself holding her until she was forced to look up into his eyes and then whispering to her that everything was all right. That there was no need for her to be flustered like this.

Oh, what a powerful fantasy that was! The swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach took him entirely by surprise. He had never intended to feel anything for Isabella. She was supposed to be his wife in name only, someone he could show about town when he needed to. There wasn’t supposed to be this bond, this connection, between the two of them. And yet, he found himself unable to quite let go of the thought of holding her in his arms.

She looked up at him, and for a moment their eyes locked on one another, and it felt as if they were frozen in place. Arthur felt sure she couldn’t tear herself away from this moment any more than he could. Surely, they would remain here, looking into one another’s eyes…

She pulled away and went into the sitting room. Arthur stood still for a moment, watching her go.

Now that she was gone, he was able to clear his head a bit. He thought about what she’d said—that he wasn’t himself. Was it true?

He did feel much more alive when his aunt was here. He would have thought he was more himself in her presence. But of course, Isabella had never known him in the company of Aunt Olivia. She only knew the person he was when he was on his own, and she barely knew that. Of course, this would seem different and unfamiliar to her. Of course, she felt as if she was meeting him for the first time.

He went into the sitting room and sat down. Aunt Olivia beamed up at him. “I’ve just been getting to know your Isabella,” she said with a smile. “You couldn’t have made a lovelier choice, Arthur; she’s an absolute gem. I can’t wait to take her to Manford.”

“Manford?” Arthur repeated, frowning. “What’s all this about?”

“Oh, you don’t know about the Manford ball?” Aunt Olivia asked innocently.

Arthur recognized her machinations all too well. “I’m sure you know I have no plans to attend a ball at Manford,” he said.

“Oh, but you must allow me to take her,” Aunt Olivia said. “You want to go, Isabella, don’t you?”

“I’d like to attend a ball,” Isabella agreed.

That was more like the Isabella Arthur knew. No doubt she was aware of his reservations about the idea, especially after the way he had just responded to his aunt’s suggestion that they go, but rather than deal with the situation in a manner a young lady would be expected to, she was making it perfectly clear that she wanted to go to the ball.

He could still put his foot down about it. It didn’t matter, at the end of the day, what the two ladies wanted—Arthur was in charge, and he knew that. But they were both looking at him so eagerly. He knew he had made Isabella’s life difficult since her arrival here. And he never had been able to resist showing kindness to Aunt Olivia—after all, she had taken him in and raised him as her own son when he had had nobody else in the world.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll allow it if you both want to attend this ball. We’ll make the arrangements that need to be made so that you can go.”

“Oh, but you have to come with us, Arthur,” Aunt Olivia said.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry?”

“We can’t go on our own,” she said.

“You’re more than capable, Aunt Olivia.”

“Of course, but this is the first society party since your marriage,” Aunt Olivia explained. “You’ll be making your first appearance with Isabella. You can’t send her on her own. There would be no end to the gossip if you did. You’ve got to go with her and let everyone have a chance to see the two of you together. That’s what people really want, you know—to see the Duke with his new bride.”

“I’m not in the habit of making decisions based on giving other people what they want,” Arthur said.

“Perhaps not, but it’s something you should get used to,” she said. “That’s why you married, isn’t it? You wanted to let people see that you were happy in a love match with this beautiful young lady?”

He couldn’t argue with that, of course. “I suppose I shouldn’t send her alone.”

“And she wants to go, don’t you, Isabella?”

“Yes,” Isabella said. “I want to go. If there are no rules against it, of course.”

Well, that had been pointed. He glanced at Aunt Olivia, but she didn’t seem to realize that Isabella’s words had been such a stab at him.

He ought to have been offended, of course—but he found that he didn’t mind. In fact, as usual, he found himself enjoying her barbs.

“Very well, then,” he agreed. “We’ll all go to Manford together.”