Chapter 14 #2
“The ton did not appreciate my Scottish upbringing. I was too bold, too direct, too... uncultured for their refined tastes. The ladies whispered about me behind their fans, and the gentlemen...” Her hands tightened on his arm.
“One gentleman in particular approached me with compliments and an ulterior motive.”
“What happened?” Richard's voice was very quiet.
“He approached me at a ball when I had slipped into the garden for some fresh air and showered me with compliments. I told him I was not interested, and he grabbed me and… tried to kiss me.” Isobel felt her face heat with a mixture of satisfaction and anger at the memory.
“I struck him in the face with my fist. I think I might have broken his nose.”
Richard had gone very still beside her, and when Isobel glanced at him, she saw fury etched into every line of his face. Then he seemed to comprehend her last two statements, and he grinned,
“Good.”
“He made a huge fuss about it,” she continued, casually.
“And I thought it was not going to be a problem. But the next day, there were rumors about me spreading on gossip sheets, claiming that I had tried to trap him into marriage, that when he refused me, I had flown into a violent rage. That I was unstable, dangerous, unmarriageable.”
“That is absurd,” Richard said hotly. “Anyone who knew you –”
“But they did not know me,” Isobel interrupted. “That was the problem. I was a stranger, a Scottish outsider, and he was the charming heir to an earldom. Who do you think society believed?”
Richard was silent, and Isobel knew he understood the answer.
“He even dared to suggest that I would come crawling back to him, begging him to save my reputation by marrying me despite my 'violent tendencies,'” Isobel continued, disgust clear in her voice. “As though I would ever willingly bind myself to such a man.”
“What did you do?”
“I went home to Scotland and swore I would never attend another society function again. And I have not. My siblings understood – they were furious on my behalf. My sisters wanted to fix it by tackling everyone involved, and my brother, Graham, even wanted to challenge the man to a duel, but I convinced him it was not worth it.” She looked up at Richard.
“That is why I decided to join a convent. At least there, I would be free from the expectations and judgment of English society. Free from men who think they can take what they want simply because they have a title and charm.”
Richard understood where she stood and what had caused her to arrive at the decision she had claimed. However, the part of him that had grown strangely attached to her ached at the thought of being just another face in a group that she fiercely abhorred.
Although he was not the one who endured all that she had and therefore had no say in the decisions she had taken, he couldn’t help but selfishly wonder where her choices would leave him.
‘Do you hate me too? As an Englishman?’ he wanted to ask.
After a moment, he made up his mind to ask, turning her as his lips parted to call her name.
But the voice that hit the air was not his own.
“Valerie!”
They both turned to find Nora and Cecil racing across the snow toward them, their faces bright with excitement. Isobel felt a pang of disappointment at the interruption, but she could not help smiling at the children's enthusiasm.
“Slow down!” she called. “You will fall in the snow!”
But the warning came too late. Nora's foot caught on her skirts, and she tumbled forward with a cry. Richard moved instantly, catching the little girl before she could hit the ground.
“Careful there, little one,” he said gently, setting her back on her feet.
Nora beamed up at him, completely unharmed and utterly charmed. “Thank you, Your Grace! You are so fast!”
“That is as a result of many years of practice catching falling ladies,” Richard said with mock solemnity, though Isobel caught the twinkle in his eye.
Cecil reached them a moment later, breathing hard but grinning widely. “We have been looking everywhere for you! Will you play with us? Please? The snow is perfect for building snow forts!”
Isobel glanced at Richard, expecting him to politely decline. She knew a man as refined as he was likely did not play in the snow with children. But to her surprise, he seemed to consider it seriously.
“Well,” he said slowly, “I suppose a brief diversion would not hurt. What do you think, Miss Wightman? Are you amenable to some snow fort construction?”
“I – yes,” Isobel said, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
Nora clapped her hands in delight, and Cecil immediately began outlining his strategy for the most impressive snow fort ever built. As they followed the children to a suitable location, Isobel found herself watching Richard with something dangerously close to affection.
This man, who could be so commanding and authoritative in private, was now listening earnestly to the architectural plans of a little boy for snow structures. The contrast was... endearing. Far more endearing than it had any right to be.
They spent the next hour building elaborate snow forts, the four of them working together and occasionally launching snowballs at each other when construction grew tedious.
Isobel found herself laughing more freely than she had in weeks, the simple joy of play washing away some of the stress and fear that had been her constant companions since arriving at Gramfield Manor.
Richard, she noticed, was careful with his injured shoulder but still managed to help the children roll enormous snowballs for the fort walls. When Nora declared she was cold, he shrugged out of his greatcoat without hesitation and wrapped it around her small frame.
“There,” he said. “Better? Though I recommend we head inside soon, so you do not get sick.”
“Much better,” Nora sighed contentedly. “You are very kind, Your Grace.”
“So are you, Miss Wightman,” Richard replied seriously. “It is a quality to be proud of.”
Isobel felt her heart clench at the gentleness in his voice. This was a side of Richard she had not seen before—patient, warm, genuinely engaged with the children rather than merely tolerating them.
Eventually, they all ended up sitting in a circle inside one of the completed forts, catching their breath. Cecil beamed at all of them, clearly delighted with the afternoon's activities.
“This is wonderful,” he declared. “I am so glad you two are getting along well now.”
Isobel felt heat creep into her cheeks. “What makes you think we were not getting along before?”
“It was quite obvious,” Cecil rolled his eyes in a way that was far too mature for his age. “You were always so stiff around each other at dinner. And Valerie, you kept making faces when you thought no one was looking.”
Isobel found it a little strange answering to her sister’s name still, but even more so when the children knew her real name. But it had been decided that to avoid exposure, they should call her by her twin’s name, just as everyone did.
“I did not make faces,” Isobel protested, though she knew that she absolutely had.
“You did,” Cecil insisted. “But now you are friends! Or something. Will you also be betrothed to… Isobel?”
He had asked the last part in a whisper, and it had confused Isobel because the sudden mention of her name was humorous. However, one detail in Cecil’s question caught her attention.
“Betrothed? Why will he be my betrothed?” Isobel asked with a nervous laugh.
Cecil glanced at Richard, who had fallen silent, before he answered,
“Because he was betrothed to Valerie previously.”