Chapter 4
Speechless, Isla could only stare through the open door as the tall duke swept away from her home and into the street. A horse was set under the tree across the lane where he untethered the beast. In one motion, he was in the saddle. And then he was gone.
What just happened?
There was a flush on her face that had started creeping over her the moment she saw him.
What a rushed encounter this had been for her. Isla still couldn’t wrap her head around his arrival. The moment in the parlor where nothing happened, and yet… And yet it felt like something had.
It had all taken place so quickly. Lifting her hands to her face, she tried to understand her expression. Questions flooded her mind. What did he think of her? What was he going to do? He couldn’t really… he couldn’t really mean to keep going forward.
Could he? He must be mad. Goodness gracious, but then so am I.
The confusion she had felt over his short visit twisted inside of her. She had sat down, screaming inside, waiting for him to end the charade.
Thinking of his words didn’t bring her any comfort. “I need a wife. You have saved me the trouble of announcing that.” He couldn’t possibly mean he meant to marry her. And yet––
“Expect an announcement in the papers tomorrow. We don’t need a special license; three weeks will do.”
All I ever said was a lie. A lie! What a confounding man. I should like to step on his foot very, very hard. A lie like this isn’t meant to become the truth. It can’t. I think.
The confusion was giving her a headache, which made Isla irritable. She grumbled under her breath as she closed the door from the dreary day.
“Well, that…” Her mother held the tea tray with a shaky smile while gazing at her through misty eyes. “That was wonderous. Was it not?”
“It was certainly intriguing,” Isla grudgingly said.
Although her mother looked like she wished to say more, Margaret was calling for her elsewhere. “Mother? I’m preparing a bath for Lacey. Can you help me?”
“I’ll return in a moment,” Mrs. MacLaren said but Isla knew as well as she that it would be a very long moment.
And then Isla went on her way, deciding to garden. She needed a distraction. But after gardening, she made a loaf of bread with their cook and then cleaned the hall. The nervous energy she had been feeling for days had to go somewhere.
She eventually tired and decided to find their orange cat, Hector, who had lived with them most of her life back in Scotland. He had practically trapped himself in the attic. The space was large, filled with all sorts of furniture and draperies, with eight windows that saw into the world.
“There you are, you little beast.” She scooped him up, ignoring his growl, and then set him down in a recent pile of white cloths. It was nearly as good as a straw mattress. The two of them settled to look down into the world by a front window. “Have you seen anything interesting up here today?”
He grumbled before creeping closer against her chest and under her chin. The two of them settled in to watch the world below. Her heartbeat finally slowed down alongside Hector, but her mind… That had yet to slow all this time.
It wasn’t supposed to go this far. What am I supposed to do?
Telling a stranger she wasn’t going to marry him shouldn’t have felt so difficult. But she hardly knew how to tell him this. There was so little she actually knew about him. His name, his looks… and how he avoided London.
But he had come back to see her. The thought made her frown. He must have been disappointed, she surmised, and yet not enough to make him flee or tell anyone the truth.
“Should I tell someone something?” Isla asked Hector. The cat was too busy sleeping to offer any advice.
“You could tell me,” called Margaret in a quiet voice as she made her way into the room. She paused to close the door before moving over to Isla and Hector. With an amused smile, the ten-and-seven year-old raised her eyebrow. “What do you wish to say?”
The girl was too sharp-eyed for her age. Isla frowned at her and turned away. But then Margaret came to sit beside her at the window, knees touching.
Both of them knew Isla couldn’t stay quiet forever.
“What a foolish mistake I have made,” she said at last. She swallowed hard. “It was a lie. A silly little lie. I hadn’t planned on it, Margaret, I only…”
“I know.” Margaret patted her hand. “So what happened?”
Isla gave her a look. “Didn’t Mother say enough?”
Her sister gave a shrug before answering, “She said plenty but that’s not what I want to hear. I asked you, didn’t I?”
After letting a shaky breath loose, Isla nodded in understanding. Of course her sister would listen. So she shared about the duke’s arrival and their silent but awkward tea and what he told her when he was taking his leave.
“What is that supposed to even mean?” She pressed afterward. “Can you imagine? He can’t mean it. To formalize a betrothal between us? We only met for the first time today!”
Margaret’s eyes were wide with alarm. She fiddled with her hair as well, the two main signs of her alarm. But she was clearly trying to remain calm as she nodded along and said nothing for a short while.
“It is rather shocking,” she allowed at last.
“Isn’t it?” Isla muttered sarcastically. She tugged a grumpy Hector closer for comfort. “I think we’ve all lost our minds.”
Her sister considered this for a short spell before offering a rather unladylike shrug. “Perhaps. And perhaps not. You wanted an excuse so you wouldn’t be forced to take the marriage Mother wishes for you. Isn’t this a way out?”
Dropping her mouth open, Isla stared at her.
Does she really mean that?
“You’ve said ever since we arrived here that you feel trapped. No, you have been saying it for longer,” Margaret pressed gently. She gave her a pointed look with raised eyebrows. “There is always a way out. You can take this one if you like. Or I’m sure there is another. What of our aunt?”
Their Aunt Frances still lived back in Scotland, near Inverness, and was an aging lady of fair means. She didn’t particular care for children so the family had never been very close to her. But she had, since Isla turned ten and six, left open the offer to take in a niece as a companion.
“I…”
It would be a path back home to Scotland, Isla considered. She studied the orange stripes on her cat with a frown. Even though she would love to be back north, it didn’t feel right to leave her family.
“You could go. Now or later. If it becomes too much, if he forces anything, you would have a place to hide out. I’ll help you,” Margaret added readily.
As she clutched the cat close, trying to resist the urge to cling to her sister who was too young for such serious matters, Isla tried to breathe. She tried to think. Because she didn’t want to run. She wasn’t that sort. It was always better to face a challenge.
And yet she didn’t quite know how to stay.
“I don’t know what to do,” she muttered. “How can I be trapped without choosing anything?”
Her sister readily reminded her, “Not making a choice is still a choice. And if you’re not ready to make a decision, then give it some time. You could wait to see what sort of gentleman the duke is. Who knows? Perhaps it wouldn’t be an awful match. He clearly wants you.”
“Needs me. Only I don’t know why.” Isla huffed. “And I am afraid to need him.”
“Maybe he needs you more than you think.”
That made her chuckle. “A duke? What could a duke possibly need that his name or wealth could not give him?”
Margaret told her, “I think there’s only one way to find out.”
Perhaps that was the truth. Isla grudgingly nodded though she couldn’t imagine that was possible.
A duke could have anything he liked. They could get away and do anything.
The power they wielded… a shiver ran down her spine.
She was too small a person in every way to warrant the attention of someone like the Duke of Westvale.
And yet she did seem to have it, didn’t she?
Perhaps I will wait. Just a little while.