Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Richard barely managed to restrain himself from slamming the door to the empty study once he and Adrian were inside. His friend looked quite confused and alarmed, but Richard could not bring himself to care about Adrian's comfort at the moment.
All he could think about was the way Adrian had been holding Isobel's hand. The way he had looked at her with such joy and affection, believing her to be Valerie.
There was no reason for that brief moment to bother him so much. Adrian was betrothed to Valerie – of course, he would be happy to see her. Except that he had not met Valerie, but her twin, Isobel.
It had taken every ounce of self-control within Richard not to succumb to the surge of jealousy and physically remove his friend from Isobel's presence.
“Richard,” Adrian Holbrook, duke of Norwich, said carefully, “What in God's name is going on? Who was that woman?”
Richard forced himself to take a breath, trying to compose himself into a calmer state of being. “How was your journey? Uneventful, I trust?”
“My journey has passed and therefore is irrelevant. What matters is the present and presently, I am very shocked to have faced a woman who looks exactly like my wife to be, but apparently is not,” Adrian warned, his own patience clearly wearing thin.
“I would appreciate it greatly if you did not attempt to deflect with pleasantries. I could tell immediately – the way she looked at me, as though she had never seen me before in her life. Who is she, and where is my betrothed?”
“Valerie is fine,” Richard said quickly, and he also felt calmer when he noticed some tension leave Adrian's shoulders. “She is upstairs in the attic, recovering. But she has been... unwell.”
“Unwell?” Adrian's expression darkened with concern. “What has been recovering from? What happened? Is she –”
“She was poisoned.”
The words hung heavily in the air, and Adrian went very still, his face paling rapidly.
“Poisoned,” he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. “Someone poisoned Valerie?”
“A little over a week ago,” Richard confirmed with a nod. “She collapsed the first night of the betrothal party, and she has been unconscious ever since – until last night, actually. She woke last night, and she appears to be recovering well.”
“Who?” Adrian demanded, his eyes alight with dangerous rage. “Who would dare –”
“We do not know yet,” Richard interrupted calmly. “That is what we have been trying to discover. The woman you met – her name is Isobel. She is Valerie's twin sister.”
“Twin sister?” Adrian looked stunned. “Valerie has a twin? She never mentioned –”
“She did not know. Or rather, she knew she had a sister somewhere, but they were separated as infants. Lord Gramfield gave Isobel up for adoption in Scotland.” Richard's voice took on a bitter edge.
“When Valerie was poisoned, Gramfield panicked. He was afraid that if the wedding were canceled, it would cause a poor situation. So he sent for Isobel and convinced her to pretend to be Valerie while we investigated who was responsible.”
Adrian took in this information gradually, his expression cycling through shock, anger, and eventually something that looked like admiration settled upon his face. “She agreed to put herself in danger for a sister she barely knows?”
“She did.”
“That is...” Adrian shook his head. “That is incredibly brave. And incredibly foolish. Whoever poisoned Valerie could easily target Isobel as well.”
“I am aware,” Richard said, unable to keep the stiff edge out of his voice. “Which is why I have been doing everything in my power to keep her safe.”
Something in his tone must have given him away, because Adrian's eyes sharpened with sudden interest. “Keep her safe. How... concerned are you about this woman, Richard?”
“She is merely an innocent woman caught up in a dangerous situation that should have nothing to do with her in any way,” Richard said stiffly. “Of course I am concerned.”
“Mm-hmm.” Adrian's lips twitched with amusement. “You pulled me away from her rather forcefully just now. One might almost think you were jealous.”
“Do not be ridiculous,” Richard snapped, but he could feel heat creeping up his neck.
“I have known you for a long time,” Adrian said, crossing his arms. “I have never – not once, in all our years together as chaps – seen you react with anything approaching genuine emotion when it comes to a woman. You are always so controlled, so measured. But just now, when you saw me holding her hand? You looked ready to call me outside for a duel.”
The grin on his friend’s face was rapidly filling Richard with immense annoyance and irritation.
“I was merely concerned that you might inadvertently expose Isobel's identity and ruin her hard work,” Richard lied.
“Of course you were,” Adrian said, clearly not believing him for a moment. “Well, wherever this newfound protectiveness comes from, I am grateful for it. If you have been keeping Valerie's sister safe – whilst trying to find my bride’s attacker, then you have my thanks.”
Richard inclined his head, accepting the gratitude even as guilt twisted in his gut.
If Adrian knew exactly how Richard had been “keeping Isobel safe” – the kisses, the intimate touches, the way Richard had brought her pleasure with his fingers and mouth – his friend would likely have more to say to him than an expression of gratitude.
“Have you made any progress in identifying the culprit?” Adrian asked, his tone taking on a stern edge again.
“We have suspicions,” Richard admitted. “But we have yet to find definite proof of their involvement.”
“Where is Valerie now?” Adrian asked. “I need to see her. I need to know she is truly all right.”
Richard nodded. “She is in the attic. It was the safest place to put her. While she recovered. Only a few people know of what has happened, so it was important that she was kept out of sight.”
“Will you take me to her?”
“Of course. Follow me.”
As they made their way through the house, Richard tried to shake whatever lingering bitter feelings sprang up at the memory of Adrian's hand on Isobel..
He was not jealous. There was no point in entertaining such feelings, not when she was not his in the first place and never would be.
Even if every instinct in his body was screaming that Isobel was who he wanted more than the breath in his lungs.
Even if he was gradually realizing that this game he had led them to play was pulling him farther than he had ever intended, and that there might be no way back to the safety of indifference.
He had no right to these feelings. No right to want her the way he did.
But God help him, he wanted her anyway.
Isobel stared unblinking at her reflection in the mirror, her hands trembling slightly as a maid fastened the clasp of her final piece of jewelry. It was an emerald necklace, one that apparently had been their mother’s favourite, and the weight of it cut new wounds into Isobel’s heart.
But she did not have time to dwell on such emotions, so she shifted her gaze to the dress draping over her body.
The gown she wore tonight was exquisite – a deep sapphire silk that brought out the green in her eyes, with delicate embroidery along the bodice that glimmered in the light.
It was one of Valerie's finest gowns, and wearing it made Isobel feel like an imposter all over again.
Granted, that was exactly what she was, but at least now, there was an end to the farce in sight.
Although they had not found the culprit, Valerie had been kept safe, and her wedding was tomorrow, and as such, they could put this matter into more capable hands – constables, and she could return from whence she came.
Tonight, a ball had been organized for the guests to celebrate the upcoming nuptials. And she was expected to spend the evening on the arm of the Duke of Norwich, the man her sister loved
Since Richard had pulled him away with such an intense look, Isobel wagered that he had updated his friend on the situation at hand. But that did not mean she could rely on him wholly to keep up the ruse alongside her.
Whatever the case may be, she needed to do her very best to ensure that they made the picture of a perfect couple about to be wed.
Isobel could do this. She had to.
A knock at the door startled her from her thoughts, and her maid hurried to answer it. Isobel's breath caught in her throat as Adrian stepped into the room. She let herself stare, noting all the features that her sister likely favored.
He was tall – as tall as Richard, seemingly – with broad shoulders that filled out his evening coat nicely.
His hair looked darker now, still swept back from his handsome face.
His eyes were charged with curiosity, and Isobel realized she was being studied as well, and the intensity of his gaze made her feel exposed.
“Miss Wightman,” he said, his voice deep and formal as he bowed. “You look lovely this evening.”
“Your Grace,” Isobel replied, dropping into a curtsy that she hoped did not appear as stiff as it felt. “Thank you. I – it is good to see you.”
The part needed to be played for each witness, so it was best that she began with the maid who was watching them with a bashful expression, although Isobel felt dissatisfied with her performance.
Before she could dwell on her inadequacy, Adrian nodded and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Isobel dismissed her maid with a grateful smile and placed her hand on Adrian's arm, trying not to think about how different it felt from Richard's. Where Richard's touch sent sparks through her body, Adrian's felt... simply proper. Entirely devoid of any sensation of the sensual or improper kind.
A pang of disappointment rang through her, and she missed Richard suddenly.
They walked in silence down the corridor toward the ballroom, and Isobel scrambled for something to say, anything to break the heavy quiet between them.