Chapter 5
Isolde woke with the sun on her face, confused by its warmth and how her bed sheets felt strange to the touch. Then she remembered – she wasn’t at home. She was at Hartington.
And the sun had woken her because she’d been sitting at the window last night and had been so distracted by her thoughts that she’d forgotten to close the curtains.
She stretched, enjoying the softness of the bed. It was nicer than hers, and she seemed to have slept deeply despite everything on her mind.
Now that she and Thaddeus had a plan, the world seemed full of possibility. She felt light-hearted as she went down to breakfast and was even a bit disappointed to find Thaddeus had taken his meal earlier and already gone out.
Everyone else in the household had plans, as well, and so she took Tatiana’s very enthusiastic advice to spend the morning in the library.
The room was big, and the number of books overwhelming, so rather than trying to choose, Isolde settled on the window seat and looked out at the meadow that separated Hartington from her own home.
It was a bright morning, and she wanted to open the window to feel the cool morning air on her cheek but wasn’t sure she was allowed.
A footman’s voice pulled her from her reverie.
“Miss Fairchild, you’ve a visitor.”
“Me?” she asked, turning toward the footman as he stood in the doorway. “Whoever could it be?” she wondered – mostly to herself, but the footman answered.
“Miss Annora White to see you, Miss Fairchild.”
“Annora! How wonderful!” Isolde had not been expecting her cousin to visit, but her heart leapt with happiness.
“Shall you receive the lady in here?” the footman asked. His tone made it clear that he found that idea rather odd.
“No, thank you.” Isolde scrambled to her feet, face flushing. “Would you please show her to the drawing room, if it’s not occupied?”
“Very well, miss.” The footman nodded and disappeared. Isolde smiled to herself as she straightened the cushions, wanting to leave the window seat as she had found it, and hurried toward the drawing room.
“Isolde, darling!” Annora barely waited for Isolde to get through the door before she threw her arms around her, enveloping her cousin in a warm hug. Isolde laughed and returned the hug.
“Let me look at you,” Annora gasped, dropping her arms to stand back and look Isolde over. “You look as pretty as ever. I thought perhaps you might look different, now that you’re engaged to marry a marquess – but you look the same, just my dear cousin, sweet as always!”
“Don’t tease,” Isolde said, laughing some more.
“I’m not!” Annora objected. “You’re lovely as ever, and I’m only a tiny bit miffed that I had to hear the news of your engagement from Thomas, and not your own lips.”
Isolde felt a flush rising to her cheeks. “I am sorry. It all happened rather fast.”
“Oh, look at you, blushing! Are you very much in love with him? Tell me everything.”
“Oh, Annora, nothing like that,” Isolde said, her cousin’s misinterpretation of her expression making her feel guilty. “It’s actually all a bit of a mess, but I have hope we might fix it yet.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Annora asked, suddenly looking concerned.
“Don’t worry, please. It’s all right. Here, sit, and I’ll tell you everything like you asked.”
So they sat, Annora linking her arm through Isolde’s in a habit she’d done since they were children. Isolde told her the whole story, and Annora gasped and looked indignant and generally made all the right sort of faces at the right moments.
“Well, I never,” she said when Isolde was finished.
“I’d never have thought you, of all people, would get entangled in such an affair!
” Seeing Isolde blush again, she shook her head.
“No, darling, don’t feel bad! None of it is your doing.
And between you and me, it’s all a bit exciting.
But come, dear – are you really going to go through with this ridiculous plan? ”
Annora’s words stung a little, and Isolde stood up, blinking away tears.
“I don’t think it’s so ridiculous. I like his plan.”
“Oh, don’t be upset, please don’t!” Annora jumped up and hugged Isolde. “I only meant that a marquess is such a good match! Surely you don’t think you’ll find someone better?”
Isolde turned the question over in her mind, answering slowly.
“Perhaps not better … but I should like to marry for love, Annora. It may be a silly dream, but if there’s a chance I can make it happen, then I must take it. And this could be that chance. It could be my only chance.”
She looked at her cousin, her throat tight as she held back more tears.
“Say you’ll help me, please? I know I have a better chance with you by my side.”
“Of course I will, darling! You don’t even have to ask. I think it’s madness to throw away being a marchioness, but if you want to look for love, then that is what we shall do.”
“Thank you, Annora. Truly, thank you.” Isolde felt a wave of relief run through her, and for the first time, she felt less alone in this situation.
“But first,” Annora continued, “we do have a more pressing matter, the thing I actually came to speak to you about.”
“What?” Isolde asked, her heart pounding. What could be more serious than this?
“Why, Mother’s ball, of course!” Annora said, laughing. “You know she always hosts the first ball of the season.”
“Oh, of course,” Isolde said, sighing in relief.
“I know you don’t attend many balls, but of course, you must come. And just think …” Annora smiled, her grin a little wicked, “this will be the perfect place to put your engagement charade to the test – and to look for a real true love!”
***
The night of the ball arrived, and Isolde was full of jittery anticipation. This would be their first public outing since the engagement.
Thaddeus exited the carriage first and then held out his hand to help her down. She had worried that he would be annoyed at her suggestion to attend, but he had agreed readily, and she was grateful he seemed committed to their plan.
The night air was cool even under her heavy cloak, and she shivered. Thaddeus’ hand was warm, and she found herself wishing she could lean into him and borrow some of his body heat.
The bold thought made her blush. Of course, she’d never actually lean close to him. Thaddeus had made it clear he considered their arrangement as if it were a business one, and nothing more.
He was perfectly kind to her, but he seemed detached in all their conversations, simply enduring her presence until he could move on to things more interesting to him.
Isolde’s jitters heightened as they walked inside. It was much warmer in here, and full of color and sound. A quartet in the corner played a lively waltz, and her eyes struggled to take in all the swirling dresses.
Many of the women also wore brilliant, sparkling jewelry, having pulled out their best finery to start the season in style.
All the bodies moving around the room and the voices mixed with the music made Isolde feel almost immediately overwhelmed. She was relieved when Annora swept up to greet them.
Isolde introduced Annora to Thaddeus, and then Annora ushered them inside. Isolde was surprised when Thaddeus took her arm and did not let go.
In fact, he was suddenly very attentive, and she felt flustered every time their gazes met. It was as though stepping through the doorway and into the public eye had transformed him into the perfect doting suitor.
Confusion mixed with the nerves in Isolde’s stomach. He’d barely said two words to her in the carriage, had not looked at her once – how could he now gaze on her with such warmth and affection?
Annora introduced them to too many people for Isolde to keep count. She then begged their forgiveness as she went to help her mother with something.
Not long after that, a gentleman came up to Thaddeus and asked to speak with him about a business matter. They ducked off into an alcove, with Thaddeus assuring her he’d be back soon, and Isolde just nodded mutely.
She knew this would be a perfect time to move about the room, to speak to some other gentlemen, perhaps even dance – but her anxiety was bordering on giving her a stomachache, and the room felt too hot.
She now longed for the cool night air. Peering around and finding herself unobserved, she slipped out of one of the tall doorways into the gardens.
Sighing with relief at not just the fresh air but the lack of eyes staring at her, she made her way further from the house. Lanterns had been hung about the garden, and she followed their inviting glow.
Once she was far enough that the buzz and clamor of the party had faded, she settled herself on a stone bench. It was cold and hard, but the silence was so comforting that she didn’t mind. She sighed and tried to sort through her jumbled feelings.
“Well,” said a voice that made her spine stiffen, “who do we have here?”
Isolde turned toward the voice in dread, already recognizing it. And yes, indeed, Lord Crowley stood not five paces away, a wide grin on his reddened face.
“Lord Crowley,” she gasped, jumping up from the bench and stepping away from him. He pouted, his words slurring as he spoke.
“No, no, don’t run away. Why, don’t you know that’ll hurt my feelings? I’ll think you don’t wish to see me.”
Isolde pressed her lips together to keep from rising to the bait and informing him that was exactly how she felt.
He teetered toward her, and she could smell that he reeked of alcohol. She realized, belatedly, that he was between her and the path back to the house. Her heart started to race.
“Sweet little Isolde,” he said, taking a step forward and sitting down on the bench. She wrinkled her nose at his familiarity. He tapped the bench beside him. “Sit back down and speak with me a while, eh? Keep me company.”
Surely he was mad to think that she would do such a thing. Not only would sitting here in the near dark with him cause all sorts of gossip, should they be found, but there could hardly be a less appealing picture than the one before her.
Crowley was staring at her with thinly concealed lust, his mouth hanging half-open. She wondered, if she ran, if he would let her go. Or would he chase after her? A shudder passed through her at the thought.
“Fine, if you don’t want to speak to me, I’ll speak to you.
I bet I know something you don’t.” He laughed to himself, but his eyes stayed on her, sweeping up and down her body.
She felt sick. “Bet your precious marquess didn’t tell you how you came to be engaged.
But I was there. I know. It was a card game.
And he wasn’t even playing! It should have been between me and your father.
That’s how these things are always decided.
But he had to come poking his nose into other people’s business. ”
Crowley slumped down on the bench, anger spilling across his face.
“It’s jus’ luck, that’s all,” he mumbled.
“Men like him get all the luck. I was going to win the game. I know I was. You would have been mine. He stole you from me. What do you think of that, eh?” He peered up at her, alcohol and anger clouding his eyes.
She felt repulsion ripple through her body at his gaze but refused to show it.
“Lord Crowley, I’m going inside now,” she said, unable to keep a tiny tremor from her voice. Squaring her shoulders, she started to walk past him.
For a moment, she thought he was going to let her leave, but then just as she was nearly past him, he shot to his feet, his arm coming up in front of her. She stumbled back and found he’d raised his other arm as well, practically encircling her.
She twisted away from him, but he moved with her, the pair nearly falling as he pushed her up against a nearby hedge.
“Let go, let go!” she cried. Branches from the hedge scratched her back through the thin fabric of her gown.
“Stop squirming,” he snarled. “Should have been mine. Will be mine. Anyone finds us like this, what will your precious marquess say to that, eh?” His breath was hot against her face, and she fought back tears. She mustn’t fall apart now. She had to fight him off, get away from him, before anyone –
There were footsteps on the path, and Isolde’s eyes darted in that direction, hoping against all odds it might be Annora – but her heart sank.
There, staring straight at her as she stood pinned against the hedge by Crowley’s arms, was the Marquess of Hartington.