Chapter 16
One of the traits Isla loved most about her sister Margaret was her ability to listen.
While Lacey danced around the room after Hector, the two older sisters were seated in the window seat talking quietly with their emboirdery in hand. They’d each completed approximately three stitches in the last hour since they sat down, having so much to discuss.
And there would be more if I could share the truth with her. But Ronan is allowed his secrets; they are not mine to share no matter how brightly they burn inside me.
“How big of a lie is it?” Margaret asked eagerly.
Sighing, Isla glanced at Lacey who was humming now as she crawled around the room to chase after Hector. The cat, in turn, was actually seated on a chair. Lacey would eventually notice so Isla turned back.
“It is manageable in a way that it will not cause awful backlash,” she said slowly. “Well, a little. Only… There is another way. I suppose it is riskier. But it would require honesty.”
“And the lie, whatever it is, is less harmful?”
She had to bite back the urge to sigh again. “For now, yes. But years from now… Oh, I cannot imagine it, Margaret. It feels awfully wrong. It is one matter to deceive the ton. But a person’s entire life… Don’t we deserve to know our own lives?”
The perplexing expression on her sister’s face was hardly hopeful. And yet Isla supposed it should be.
At least it means she hasn’t a clue about what I am saying. She won’t know a thing about Oliver and Ronan. Perhaps no one will. Just a handful of people…
“Isla? You’re looking rather pale. Are you ill?”
Lacy gasped loudly. She was closer than Isla had been paying attention. Crawling over with one hand out, Lacey nearly face-planted whilst stumbling on her skirt in her haste to get to them. She found Isla’s foot first. “What? Sick? How pale? Is she feverish?”
Shaking her head, Isla gently nudged her away. “I’m quite all right.”
“It’s all right if you die. I can marry the duke for you,” her little sister said in earnest.
“Lacey!” Isla tried to be mad but Margaret had burst out laughing and she had to hide a chuckle of her own. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she walloped Margaret on the knee. “Shh. Lacey, that isn’t very nice.”
The girl pouted. “I thought it was. I’m only trying to be thoughtful.”
“She adores your duke,” Margaret said with a chuckle.
“Who wouldn’t? He’s marvelous,” Lacey insisted with a broad smile. She clambered up to feel Isla’s forehead. “You’re not hot. If anything, you’re clammy. That’s rather disgusting.”
Isla apparently couldn’t win with her sisters today. She shook her head. “You’re obnoxious. Is it because of the rain? I thought you like the rain.”
“I do, when I’m permitted outside in it. But now Mother thinks I shall catch my death.” Sighing dramatically, Lacey tumbled onto the sofa. She opened her mouth to make some announcement but then her braid hit Hector and the two of them squealed. “So that’s where you have been! You rascal!”
Isla turned from her back to Margaret and gave her sister a small pinch. “Stop giggling. I see that look in your face.”
“What? I can’t help it if Lacey is funny.”
“She’s hoping a fever ravages me into an early grave. What would you do then?”
Margaret snickered. “I suppose she would marry the duke so all would be well, wouldn’t it?”
That was the end of any serious conversation that afternoon with her sisters. Isla roped Margaret into leaving the window seat and to play stage actors with Lacey, reenacting scenes from Shakespeare’s works until it was time for supper.
The time together was a lovely distraction for Isla. She slept easier that night, much better than the last two evenings since she’d learned the truth from Ronan.
But morning still came. Her mother accepted a delivery of a new dress for Isla––it must have been Ronan still making amends as promised––and while the cut wasn’t her favorite, the color and ribbons were absolutely stunning.
Isla might have enjoyed it if she wasn’t worrying about how to manage her next conversation with the duke.
I cannot believe what I am doing. To think about turning down this engagement… What right do I have to that? It’s my own fault to be in this situation. And yet to hide the truth of Oliver’s parentage to himself for all his life? To hide away another woman?
Isla felt sick to her stomach as she prepared for a supper party that Ronan would be taking her to that evening. Part of her hoped he might not appear.
Except that he did. Promptly on the hour, he was at the door.
“You look very lovely, Lady Isla,” Ronan said to her with her mother hovering close behind. “I’m glad to see you in the gown.”
“How could I resist such a generous gift? Highly inappropriate,” she added before she could help herself, “since we are not yet wed. But I do love the green.”
His lips twitched as he held out an arm to her. “I am glad we are in agreement. Shall we?”
Swallowing hard, Isla permitted him to take her up to the carriage. She fully expected him to regale her with more excuses about his plan for Oliver once they were rolling down the avenue. But he said nothing. The man passed a thoughtful glance over her and then turned away to the window.
Now she was only more confused.
What am I supposed to think? If only there was someone else I could gather advise from. But it’s so strange. I’m not yet married nor lying to the poor child and already I feel guilty. Could I do this for a lifetime? For the rest of my days?
“Your Grace?” Isla finally gathered the courage to say. She straightened her spine. “I think––”
The carriage came to a halt and she jolted at the hard stop. Ronan caught her hand, helping her straighten up. They glanced toward the window to realize they had arrived.
Oh dear, I missed my chance.
Isla felt dearly out of sorts on their way up to the door and as they were welcomed inside. Led up to the second floor, she immediately appreciated the lovely parlor while being introduced to a little over twenty people.
As the hostess, Lady Verity was there to present her to half the people while Ronan greeted Tristan. Everyone this evening felt rather new to Isla. She’d hoped to meet the finest of the ton during her search for a husband and now it seemed they were all here. Most of them married, she realized.
“It really has been a delight decorating here,” Verity was saying to two other ladies, nodding along happily. “This new townhouse is much bigger for our growing family, which is just what we needed.”
“This is such a lovely home,” Isla made sure to chime in. “Perhaps I may beg of you some decorating tips someday?”
The duchess beamed. “Certainly! I trust you shall write to me? We’ll be traveling off to the country side within the month, and I shall be bored out of my mind.” She gave a discreet pat over her belly. “For a spell, at least.”
“I would most certainly enjoy that. Is your country house as beautiful as this one?”
“No matter how lovely a house it may be,” came a new voice, “it cannot surely be any lovelier than these two beautiful creatures before me. Your Grace? An absolute delight.”
Laughing, Verity gave a shake of her head as a handsome young lord came to stand before them. “Lord Sherton, you are nothing but a fancy scoundrel. But very good, this is why we dare invite you to join our numbers.”
Sherton. Haven’t I heard that name before?
He brushed his white-blond hair from his forehead with a charming wink before turning his gaze to Isla. The man was awfully striking with his cleft chin and sparkling blue eyes. She blinked several times but he was still there, still smiling at her.
“A delight, to be certain. I am so blessed to be considered. If I can beg a boon of you, might you share your grace this evening? I cannot be a stranger to this beauty for another minute. I don’t think I’ll survive.”
Verity tsked. “You’re making my guest blush, my lord, that is hardly appropriate.” Isla felt her cheeks grow hotter. Why had the duchess made known her blush? Now it would never go away. “Lord Sherton, this is my dear friend, Lady Isla. She is engaged to marry the duke of Westvale soon.”
Taking her hand with an extravagant bow, Sherton graced a firm kiss against her knuckles. She felt the warmth even through her gloves. “Ah, the wedding bells have not yet rung. I couldn’t be more fortunate than I am in this moment. My pleasure is complete, Lady Isla.”
She inhaled deeply to gather herself. Straightening her shoulders, she gave him a stern look to show she was not a young flighty miss. “You are too bold, my lord.”
“Are you not certain it is the perfect amount?” He asked hopefully, a teasing smile on his lips.
A laugh escaped before she could help it.
Leaning into her, Verity admitted, “He will flirt with a lamp post if he thinks he might garner more warmth from it. Sherton is shameless, as they say, but perfectly pleasant company. Aren’t you, Sherton?”
He put a hand to his chest. “I would never dare do you wrong, Your Grace. May the sun strike me down the moment you are cross with me.”
“I pray it does,” Verity sniffed dramatically before chuckling.
“But in all truth, Sheron, thank you for joining us. I couldn’t bear it if we had uneven numbers this evening.
I must away to the kitchens now to ensure we are ready.
I do hope you have brought your appetites,” she added and then strolled away.
Stepping a little closer, Sherton asked Isla, “Ah, alas, we have lost one of our stars. I do trust you shall keep the room bright enough, won’t you, our dear Isla?”
“You are much too familiar too soon for your all your charm,” she noted.
“That is part of my charm, is it not?”
Chuckling over his teasing smile, she shook her head. “You are a cheat if that is the root of your charm.”