Chapter 13 #2
“I see the Earl of Bedfordshire. We have estates bordering one another in the country, and I must discuss the tenancy agreements before he leaves the city. It is one of the important matters I must see to while we are in London. It will not take long.”
Isla simply nodded, his command still ringing in her ears. “Aye, Yer Grace. I shall remain here.”
As soon as the Duke melted into the crowd, Isla felt the protective shield drop away.
She quickly scanned the room and spotted them.
Oh, thank goodness.
At the other corner of the room, Callum, Eilidh, and Aunt Honoria clustered near some ornamental evergreen trees decorated with sparkling gold garland.
Isla walked quickly toward them, her steps wide as she closed the space.
“Isla!” Eilidh cried, her eyes wide and sparkling, rushing forward to hug her sister tightly. “Oh, ye are magnificent in that shade of blue! Everyone is starin’, but only because they are consumed with envy.”
Isla returned the hug, relieved by the familiar, genuine warmth of her sister’s arms. “Nonsense, a ghraidh,” she whispered with endearment. “But it is good to see friendly faces here. Ye ken how much I hate these things.”
“Surely I do, it is a wonder ye have been able to avoid so many of them!”
“Being a scarred spinster for most of me life helped—”
“Has he been treating you well, Isla?” Callum asked without preamble, his voice low as he raised an eyebrow to Isla. “Has he been unkind to ye? Because if he has, Duke or no Duke I swear I will wipe that damned—”
Isla offered a placating smile as she put a hand on his arm, silencing him. “No, Callum, he has been perfectly proper. In fact, I have been enjoyin’ me time with his lad, Oliver. He is such a lovely, clever boy.”
“It is nice to see you too, dear,” Aunt Honoria said with a customary kiss on each cheek.
She adjusted her jeweled headpiece to sit on her head and fluttered her fan as she surveyed the room.
“Oh, look, Eilidh! The young Lord Barrington is quite fixed on you tonight. I can see him staring at you! He is positively drooling!”
Eilidh let out a sigh as she propped her cheek on Isla’s shoulder, shaking her head.
“Now, no sighs! Let your aunt do her work. You keep me alive,” she said as she gently nudged Eilidh.
“No pressure,” Isla joked to Callum, only with a light nudge.
“Just a quick turn about the room, dear. We must ensure he is well and truly snared before the third dance!” Aunt Honoria pushed.
Eilidh sighed, more dramatically this time. “But I just arrived, Aunt, and I am still catchin’ up with Isla!”
“Go on,” Isla encouraged with a soft push. “You shine, Eilidh. I shall be here later, enjoyin’ a moment of peace with a flute of champagne if I can find one.”
“The holiday punch is divine,” Aunt Honoria said with another flutter of her fan. “You should be sure to try some!”
With a final, obedient smile, Eilidh allowed Aunt Honoria to tow her into the throng of dancers.
Isla turned back to her brother, who was watching them. “And how are ye faring with the London lords, bràthair?”
Callum scoffed, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing servant.
“That well, aye?”
“Pompous. Every single last one of them. They talk of wheat prices, huntin’ for sport as if the world depends on it.
I yearn for a good ride in the country, where I can break free.
But still…” he conceded, straightening his jacket and standing tall.
“I must brave it for the family’s sake, until Eilidh secures a match… perhaps even meself?”
“That is wise, surely you will have your pick of ladies.”
“If all else fails, we can always return home. Aye?” he joked, though Isla noticed the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
A familiar ache of homesickness tightened Isla’s chest at the thought of Dalrigh and simpler times when their mother and father were with them. She pushed it down as a passing servant handed her another flute of champagne. She took a long sip, letting the bubbles tickle her nose pleasantly.
“You can always come to me, Callum, if you need anythin’…” she finally said.
He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Stop that, Isla. You cannae keep carin’ for me, or Eilidh, or anyone else, all the time. Ye are the Duchess of Ealdwick now. Ye must live yer own life. I am growin’ into me own. Ye cannae worry about me forever.”
“Aye, I daenae ken about that. I daenae think I can.” Isla smiled, but inside, she was uncertain how to even begin doing such a thing.
“Oh, bloody hell. I see one of those English lords we were talkin’ about… mind if I greet him? I can introduce ye, or I can be back in a moment and—”
“Ye daenae need to worry about me either, Callum. I will be fine. I am a duchess after all. Who would have thought?” she said as she drained the last of her flute. “Go on, enjoy the party.”
Isla took another flute from a passing waiter and took another sip.
I must pace meself, but I need somethin’ to steady me nerves and do with me hands.
It took only seconds after her brother’s exit for the predators to descend like hawks.
A group of three ladies, all fashionably dressed and perfectly manicured, approached her. Isla noticed the other two were led by a woman whose smile was wide and laced with pure venom.
Absolutely serpentine.
“Your Grace we presume,” the snake purred, her eyes flicking over Isla’s face with a deliberate slowness. “We must congratulate you on your nuptials. Such a whirlwind affair! One hardly had time to send a proper gift to Your Graces! Please forgive me!”
“It was rather sudden, but please trust we are most content in the country,” Isla replied coolly, maintaining the composure Society demanded. “Whom do I have the pleasure of—”
“Oh. of course! Where are my manners? I am Lady Hodges, a close friend of His Grace’s late wife.”
His Grace’s late wife, of course.
“I see… well, it is a pleasure to make yer acquaintance,” Isla said, her voice barely a whisper.
“And I am Lady Mellors. It is quite brave of you, I must say,” the second lady chimed in. “To move from the rough charms of the Highlands straight into the formality of a ducal seat. Talk about rags to riches?”
“Lady Mellors, mind your tongue,” Lady Hodges said with a teasing tut in her voice. “You and your family hail from… oh, what is it called? Doggy Hall?”
“Dalrigh,” Isla said through gritted teeth, as she nearly snapped the champagne flute in her hand, not caring if she caused more scars.
“And with your… well, with your unique appearance, one might have expected you to prefer a more secluded life. You are so brave!”
The insult is perfectly cushioned, a backhanded compliment wrapped in a velvet glove.
Isla felt the heat return to her cheeks as she took another hasty sip of champagne.
“I find that me upbringin’ has prepared me well for duty,” she said stiffly, not offering more fuel to their fire.
“What I have been through in me life has well-prepared me for anythin’, least of all my current role. ”
“Of course,” Lady Hodges said, her reddish-brown eyes glinting in the light of the candelabras around them. “Such a fiercely loyal nature is rare to find in an English wife.”
Isla’s composure was rapidly failing, and she looked around for a familiar face to no avail. Just as she opened her mouth to at least attempt a cutting but diplomatic reply, she was saved by a new arrival.
“Ladies,” a male voice interrupted, as polished and smooth as the finest china. The three women immediately turned, their sour expressions melting into admiration. “Most lovely to see you this evening!”
The man was handsome if not a bit plain, at least compared to the Duke.
He looked like he was about Benedict’s age, with dark, angular, precise features and an air of entitled confidence that belonged only to the highest ranks.
He was as tall as Isla, which was not to say he was short.
She stood at almost five feet ten inches in her current footwear.
“It is a pleasure to see you as well, my lord!” Lady Hodges said with a bright smile. “I had hope we would find you here this evening as well. I think at the last ball we had a most interesting conversation of your travels to France!”
“An excellent memory, Lady Hodges. You do not miss a beat… but you must forgive me, I seem to have overlooked a new face there,” he said, turning his attention quickly to Isla. He offered a slight bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Harcourt Davis, Viscount Lamfort.”
Isla curtseyed, grateful for the interruption, and offered a wide smile. “Pleasure to make yer acquaintance, me lord. I am the Duchess of Ealdwick.”
“Ah, yes! It is such a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Grace,” he said, his eyes holding hers a moment longer than necessary. His smile was charming, but there was something oddly fixed behind his eyes. “I have heard much about your sudden arrival in London. Most intriguing.”
He casually dismissed the trio of ladies with a polite nod, angling his body around Isla to shield her from them.
“Your Grace, would you accompany me to the beverage table? I find the holiday punch Lady Featherstone has to be the only thing to cut through the heat of this season’s gossip… Even in spite of the cool December air.”
“I think you are quite right, me lord,” she said immediately, eager to escape the spiteful women. “A pleasure to meet ye ladies…” She called over her shoulder.
“I must confess… well, I am Cecilia’s cousin, you see,” the Viscount said as they walked.
“Cecilia?”
“Yes, the late Duchess…”
“Oh. Me goodness… I am so sorry for yer loss, me lord.”
“Please, do not fret. It was a long time ago now. All I wanted to say is, well it is a pleasure to finally meet the woman who has taken on that role for the family. Especially considering young Oliver.” He paused. “How fares the boy? He must be delighted to have a new mother.”
“He is a sensitive, intelligent child,” Isla replied, sticking to the basics. “We are both adjustin’ well to the arrangement, but I daenae pretend that I am his maither.”
Lamfort’s expression remained friendly, but Isla could perceive a sliver of coolness entering his eyes as he assessed her. “I am glad to hear it. He needs a steady hand, given his… affliction.”
Before Isla could respond to his incorrect phrasing, the music swelled, signaling the start of a waltz. Lamfort stopped short and turned toward her, his polished charm back in full force as he offered a wide smile.
“Your Grace,” he said, extending his hand. “I would be most delighted if you would join me in this dance. Would you allow me the honor?”