Chapter 4
Four
The Dowager Duchess clapped her hands and Lady Evangeline began to play the pianoforte, the tune too fast for dancing. At least it was too fast for the dull old maid’s dance that she’d insisted on teaching Isabelle and Lady Victoria.
Lady Hyacinth lounged on one of the couches with a bowl of fruit. “Mama, you must teach them something that the men will surely want to dance to. A reel or the English Country Dance.”
“I will do no such thing. Every young woman should know a quadrille. It is a modern enough dance.” The dowager gave Lady Evangeline a stern look. “Stop this foolery, Evangeline.”
With a sly smile, Lady Evangeline launched into a Scottish reel, her fingers flying over the ivory keys.
Isabelle bit back a smile and caught the book as it slipped from her head.
The tome of Roman poetry had tried to make its acquaintance with the floor more than once and she suspected it would only be a matter of time before it did.
She was certain the dowager’s disapproving glare would then turn upon her, as it had only two days earlier, after the show of sneezing she had put on for the marquess.
Lady Victoria smiled and curtsied without losing the book on head. “I have an idea that shall make this a much more enjoyable lesson.”
Isabelle watched as Lady Hyacinth stood and snagged a piece of charcoal from the drawing desk while her mother’s back was turned. She snuck over to Lady Victoria and swiped a line of charcoal over her upper lip.
Lady Victoria laughed and bowed low. “Miss Alden, I would be elated if you gave me the honor of this dance.”
Laughing, Isabelle placed her hand in Lady Victoria’s. “You are quite the gentlemen, Lady Victoria.”
“Miss Alden, prepare to be swept off your feet.”
Lady Evangeline stumbled in her playing, her laughter barely smothered until she could no longer hold it back. She started laughing, abandoning the pianoforte to wipe the tears from her eyes.
The Dowager Duchess looked like thunder personified as she turned to Isabelle. “What is the meaning of this? Your mother did not send you to me to have you make a mockery of etiquette and proper society behavior, yet here you are, treating this lesson as if it is nothing more than a joke.”
“If Mama truly cared about my posture while dancing, she would have sent me to finishing school,” Isabelle said before she could stop herself.
She sighed and shut her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
Dealing with the dowager had not gotten easier in the few days Isabelle had been under her supervision.
The woman was nothing but a stickler for the rules of an older society, always insisting on proper manners, even when the occasion called for some relaxation.
The more time Isabelle spent in her presence, the more grateful she was that she had been raised in America with a mama who was not so stern.
“Miss Alden, you would do well to remember that you are a guest in the duke’s house.” The dowager planted her hands on her hips, looking down her angular nose at Isabelle.
Isabelle stood taller. The book fell from her head and landed on the floor with a heavy thud. “I have not forgotten, and I am grateful to His Grace, but surely you must see that the lessons are dull.”
“Dull!” The dowager scoffed. It was the most unladylike sound Isabelle had heard her make.
Though she was trying to ascertain which battles she could win with the dowager, she felt as if her head was going to combust. I cannot take much more of this loathsome dancing. The poor book would fall to pieces.
The Dowager Duchess jerked her chin in Lady Evangeline’s direction. “You will play, and Hyacinth, you will return to your governess at once or I truly shall send you to a finishing school to tame your wild ways.”
Lady Hyacinth scurried out of the room, the door swinging shut behind her. As soon as her sister was gone, Lady Evangeline was quick to return to the piano, playing the tune for a quadrille once more.
Isabelle did her best to keep her back straight and her head held high as she stooped to pick up the book. She plopped it back on her head. With a deep breath, she took one step forward and then another back before joining hands with Lady Victoria in the middle and turning in a slow circle.
As they parted, the book fell to the floor once more.
“Blasted book,” Isabelle muttered under her breath.
Lady Victoria giggled, her eyes shining with mischief as she inclined her head. Her book also fell to the ground with a loud crash, causing the Dowager Duchess to jerk ramrod straight.
“Miss Alden, you must keep your back taut and your head up, and you must look pleasant while doing so. It is troublesome enough that no man in his right mind wants to marry a woman your age, more so when all she does is scowl.”
Isabelle ground her teeth together as she picked up her book.
“She is not always this strict,” Lady Victoria whispered as she crouched beside her and retrieved her own tome. “I know that she is putting great pressure on you, but she will soon stop.”
“I doubt that.” Isabelle smiled and put the book back on top of her head, though the leather cover was becoming worn and torn from falling.
She hoped the Duke did not get angry about the damage being done to his property.
“If you cannot master a quadrille, then perhaps you should sit that one out. You will make a fool of us all and Windham will be the laughingstock of the ton.” The Dowager Duchess sighed and pressed a hand on Isabelle’s cheek.
“You are beautiful for your age, Miss Alden, and it would do you well to make use of that youthful smile while keeping your temperament at bay.”
Lady Victoria eyed her mother. “Really, Mama, she is doing the best that she can. I suggest we take a break. I have been meaning to ask you a few questions about my Italian studies.”
The Duchess sighed and nodded. “Very well, we will practice the waltz, although I believe it is far too improper, the young men and women do love it. If you cannot master those steps either, we shall break for lunch.”
Isabelle nodded. It was as reasonable an offer as she was going to get.
Lady Victoria giggled. “Mama, the waltz is not too improper.”
“It is quite. Young women and men have no business being pressed to each other while they dance. Why the Queen encourages it is not for me to say, but I will also not have my daughters and my charge the center of cruel mutterings because they do not know the popular dances. Now, get into position and Evangeline, play properly.”
This entire affair would be easier for us all if the Dowager Duchess would believe me when I said I refuse to marry.
There would be no need for the dance lessons, or to sit through another morning of men who came to call on her without having a single notion of who she really was.
She knew that word of her arrival was spreading around the ton.
People wanted to see the newcomer and right now she was the object of the men’s attention.
Eventually the novelty of the American would wear off.
At that point she hoped that the Duke of Windham and the Dowager Duchess would give up their efforts to see her married.
Oh Papa, why did you ever agree to this?
Lady Evangeline began to play and as she did, Lady Victoria showed Isabelle the steps of a waltz. No matter which way she seemed to go, it always felt as if she was tripping on her skirts.
The Dowager Duchess held a hand up just as the book slipped from Isabelle’s head once more. She pressed her lips together, thin lines creasing the corners of her mouth. “I think perhaps it is time we break for lunch.”
With one last long look at Isabelle, the dowager swept out of the room with Lady Evangeline trailing behind. Lady Victoria knelt with Isabelle as she retrieved her book once more. Her smile was sympathetic.
“Mama can be difficult, but she truly does mean well.”
“I feel as if I am never going to be the woman she expects me to be. It is as if she thinks I should be an accomplished young debutante, when in fact I am truly reaching my expiry date on the marriage market. Worst of all, she completely ignores the fact that I would rather remain unwed!”
Lady Victoria took the book from the ground and held it out to her. “I know that things appear dire now, but you are doing a wonderful job with your lessons. Dancing is horrid at best. Hyacinth and Evangeline enjoy it, but I believe there are better ways to get to know one another.”
“Perhaps you should tell the Dowager Duchess that is your belief. It may sway her opinion of what I must do.”
“I fear there is no swaying her opinion,” Lady Victoria said as they stood, her tone soft and gentle. “I will be joining them for lunch. Will you?”
Isabelle shook her head before taking a deep breath and placing the book on her crown once more. “Though I loathe the lessons, my own mama would hate to receive word that I am considered difficult. If learning this dance is what it takes to please the Dowager Duchess, then that is what I shall do.”
Lady Victoria beamed. “You will learn the steps eventually. I find it best to hum the tune to yourself as slow as you like until you learn the basic movements.”
“Thank you.”
Lady Victoria departed, shutting the large doors behind her and leaving Isabelle alone in the drawing room.
She took another breath. “I can do this.”
Though it might have been a lie she told herself, she still held her arms out as if she was dancing with a partner. As she hummed the tune beneath her breath, she moved with the steps of the dance.
Until the book hit the floor once more.
With a groan, she again plopped the book onto her head. She just needed to finish the waltz once without the book falling and then she would permit herself to go get one of the meat pies the chef had prepared.
I can do this. It is as simple as walking.
If walking was the same as slipping on ice while trying to stay as tall as a tree.
She took the steps a little at a time, first moving forward with her left foot, then using her right to step to the right. When she brought her feet together without the book falling, she expelled the breath she had been holding.
Maybe this is not as difficult as I thought it would be.
Her skirts swished around her ankles, almost tangling around them as she stepped back with her right foot. Blood rushed in her ears as her pulse pounded and the book wobbled.
Please do not fall. Please do not fall.
The poetry book remained on her head, steady as she stood still and counted her heartbeats. She fixed her posture a little. It was enough to keep the book steady as she stepped sideways with her left foot.
Her hip nudged into something hard. The corner dug into her flesh as she tried to remain standing tall and perfect.
However, the poetry tome had different ideas.
The book slammed into the table to her right, nearly toppling an oil lamp onto the floor.
“Blasted thing.”
Isabelle knew her mother would be scandalized to hear her language. The Dowager Duchess would likely put her back on a ship to America.
In that moment, she could not bring herself to care. It felt as though her life was crumbling down around her, and it was all at the hands of others who thought they knew what was best for her.