Chapter 33
“It was tedious, yes, but at least the crab was divine,” Genevieve whispered to Isla with a small chuckle as the two of them stood in the corner of parlor.
Isla, for her part, struggled in vain to smile.
Coming to this dinner party had been a bad idea from the beginning. But what could she do? Her mother was unbearable, her sisters were confused, and it didn’t help that Doreen had arrived that morning with Hector in hand.
“I’m here to stay with you,” her maid had announced with a hopeful smile. “The duke says I am to remain in his employ and paid, and I do hope you’ll keep me on. It has been a pleasure, and I’ve learned so much.”
So it wasn’t like Isla was able to let her go.
The arrival of Hector had only thrown matters into more chaos that morning, and Isla had needed an escape. Tonight’s dinner party was at a friend of Genevieve’s. So when Genevieve had showed up with her carriage to pick up Isla that evening, there had been no way to refuse the invitation.
“Delicious,” Isla now managed a jerky nod for Genevieve. Her nose was bothering her. She hoped it looked all right. After crying herself to sleep the past couple of nights, she hadn’t been able to put herself to rights.
Genevieve gazed around the room one more time before looking to her. “I hope you don’t mind my speaking on such a personal matter, Isla, but I rather feel we are meant to be good friends.” Isla stiffened. “Are you well? Is anything amiss?”
Yes. No. Yes. Everything and anything is wrong.
Nothing is right and I’m frightful that nothing will ever be right again.
I don’t suppose I’ll mingle in society like this again.
Even if I do divorce and remarry, no one will have me.
I’ll lose everyone. Already I’ve lost a husband.
Then I’ll lose my family and then my friends and I…
A gentle hand gripped her elbow. “Deep breaths, darling.”
She tried to obey while avoiding Genevieve’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not feeling well.”
“Of course not. Why don’t you take your leave down the hall to call my carriage? I’ll say our farewells to Judith. I don’t think she’ll mind terribly. Besides, we were here for the entire supper and that’s more we can say for everyone else,” she added with a light smile. “Go on, then.”
Nodding her thanks, Isla moved to obey. She moved her head again to those she passed by. There were the other wives of the other dukes who waved, along with a few others. Only she and Genevive were without their husbands apparently––Julian was off elsewhere had been all the duchess could say.
Duchess. Strange. I suppose I won’t be one myself for much longer. A divorce will be less scandalous than my departure to be with another gentleman. It will be better for my family, and will allow Ronan to… move on.
Isla paused against a wall to catch herself, needing more air. The dinner party had been a mistake. She’d hardly said a word or listened to anyone. She was fortunate that Genevieve had been kind enough to sit beside her and carry conversations for them.
It would be the last time she saw Genevieve most likely.
Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to keep moving. “This is not the time to pity myself,” she muttered under her breath as she made it to the door.
A footman went to see about the carriage. She was alone then, a quiet moment where no one was there to bother her or make assumptions or judge. No one knew what she was doing now; she hardly knew herself. Only that it would continue to get more and more worse before it could get better.
If it will ever get better.
“Ah,” Genevieve said brightly as she arrived at the same time as her carriage. “Splendid. Shall we?”
“I suppose so. Thank you once again for allowing me use of your carriage,” Isla said after climbing in. “It was very thoughtful of you.”
The woman beamed. “Certainly! I thought it might be more fun for us. Julian left early for the day and I couldn’t help but wonder if your duke would care to attend the party either.
Do not misunderstand me, I do adore these parties.
But she hosts them so frequently and always brings in a few dull acquaintances.
What a relief it was to have each other tonight. ”
“Indeed.”
Leaning back, Isla hoped that would be all of the conversation. She wasn’t certain she could bear much more. The weight of her choices was beginning to drag her down into a slump once again. It nauseated her and it was all she could do not to weep.
The life she was signing herself up for promised no joy. The little window she had still to enjoy anything was quickly shrinking and she couldn’t bear it. Everything felt so difficult and so miserable.
“Isla?”
Please don’t.
She struggled to lift her gaze. “Yes, Genevieve?”
The other woman scooted to the edge of her bench, leaning forward while she held onto the seat. The lamps of London shined across her face in glimpses while they made their way down the street. Beautiful in a gown of dark purple and red, the other duchess offered a tentative smile to her.
“I cannot help but be curious if something is amiss. Particularly if there is something I can do to help you. I did not expect, you may imagine, to find myself going from the townhouse that Ronan owns to your mother’s house.
Is there anything you might be willing to share with me? I won’t share with anyone, of course.”
“No.” Isla gulped down the nausea. “No, thank you. All is well.”
The other woman was more persistent than she might have anticipated. Though Genevieve attempted to remain calm, the way her eyes darted about belied the truth. “I’m afraid that’s not all that sparked my curiosity. There is talk about town regarding your current… situation.”
No longer able to look her in the eye, Isla turned toward the window. The moving scenery didn’t help. Nor did the musty smell of the streets passing through. She clenched her hands in her lap.
They were close to her home now. Or rather, her mother’s. All she had to do was survive until then. Survive while her stomach twisted and her skin itched all the way to her ears and she couldn’t think of doing anything but crying.
“I’m not particularly certain about what exactly she is saying.
” Genevive had decided to keep speaking even though Isla wasn’t engaged.
“There are a few versions, I’m afraid. None of them are particularly generous of you or your marriage.
Some say you found the duke incompetent.
Some say he attempted to hurt you, or worse.
Someone even said you’re leaving him for someone back in Scotland.
Are you leaving London? Leaving England? ”
“No, I… I mean, yes. I don’t know,” Isla stammered, her tongue twisting over the lies. “I don’t know what she is saying.”
“It must be difficult, whatever this is. I cannot imagine… Might I be able to assist you? If you can tell me even a note of what is happening, perhaps I can be of some service,” Genevieve added gently.
A hand reached out for Isla and she jerked back this time. “No! I…” Before she knew it, she was knocking on the roof of the carriage. It started to slow. In front of her, Genevieve looked at her with an open mouth of surprise. “I need to go.”
“What? I don’t understand. Did I say something wrong? I’m awfully sorry, Isla. Please don’t go. We’re not yet to your house. I would hate––”
But Isla was already out of the carriage and closing the door.
“Isla!” The duchess called to her through the window. Desperation and exasperation lingered in her tone. “What is it? I only want to help. I am worried about you. I would like to be your friend.”
“No. No, I cannot!” Isla called over her shoulder. She hurried off the street, her blood pumping and part of her feeling guilt the more distance she put between them. “I fear we shall never speak again. It’s for the best. I… I’m so sorry.”
She looked back to show that she meant it, a bitter smile that only lasted a moment. And then Isla hurried down the lane past the three houses before reaching her house.
Fortunately, she had a house key in her reticule. In case of Genevieve or anyone following her, Isla hastily made her way inside and closed the door behind her.
“Back so soon?” Her mother appeared from the nearby parlor. She had a small plate of biscuits in hand. “Whatever are you doing here? I thought you were at a dinner party.”
“I was. Now I’m back.”
“You look cold. Are you crying?”
Her cheeks were wet now that it was mentioned. Isla hurriedly wiped at her face, wrinkling her nose. “No. I don’t know. It was cold outside. That’s all. I am going to bed, Mother.”
She hoped that was enough. It should be. She didn’t know what her mother was doing lately but it didn’t matter. There was no way for her to keep talking with the woman in case the truth spilled out. Or anything awful could happen. She just needed to be alone.
Footsteps trailed after her toward the stairs. “Bed? You’re always abed now, Isla. You’re not even supposed to be here. Why won’t you go back to your husband? I can’t imagine you mean anything you’ve said here.”
“Can’t I? I always mean what I say, Mama.”
“But you’re a married woman. A duchess. The Ton looks to you, darling, and you cannot disappoint them. Or your husband. Perhaps I should bring him back here. You know, he––”
Stumbling on the steps, Isla couldn’t fathom seeing Ronan again. No, she couldn’t bear it. Seeing him again would surely break her.
It’s not like he would ever be willing to even look at me again. That look on his face… I will never forget how badly I hurt him.
“No,” Isla told her mother sharply. “Can’t you leave it alone?”
“Whatever for? I am only trying to help!”
Everyone keeps saying that! Why don’t they understand? Why does no one understand what I am telling them?
“No! I don’t need help.” Isla’s voice fractured as she made it up the stairs, leaving her mother behind. “I’m trying to protect this family. Now leave me alone!”
Knowing her sisters would be abed in their room, she took to the small upstairs library instead. She shoved a table against the door so no one could come in. There was no proper place to sleep but the window seat, but she didn’t care. Most likely, there would be no sleeping tonight.
Just more tears. Isla was beginning to wonder if she was made of them.