Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Where is the married couple? Tell them to come welcome me at once!”
Isabella had risen with the pale winter light, her sleep growing lighter these days, though she hardly minded.
Cassian had left for his morning ride before dawn, the faint scent of leather and cold air lingering behind him in the chamber that they now readily shared.
She had wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and gone downstairs with the intention of overseeing his breakfast herself, an entirely unnecessary task yet one she found herself willing to perform with soft, unbidden fondness.
She had just crossed the entrance hall when the bright, familiar voice rang out.
The words were full of mock outrage and unmistakable delight, spoken in the grandest tone of Lady Kendrick herself.
Isabella could not help but smile.
“Lady Kendrick!” she called, hurrying forward, skirts gathered delicately in her hand. “Or perhaps I should call you grandmama now?”
Lady Kendrick stopped mid-step, her footmen behind her loaded with parcels. Her eyes widened then crinkled with pure joy. “Oh, my dear child, you shall make me weep before I have even had my gloves removed.”
Isabella laughed softly, taking her arm. “You are not allowed to weep, not before breakfast at least.”
“Isabella,” Lady Kendrick sang, waving a hand dramatically. “Come, come, let us settle in one of the drawing rooms. I have returned with treasures, I assure you. A welcome befitting of the Duchess of Everthorne.”
The older woman whisked Isabella toward the nearest drawing room, the footmen shuffling behind with an alarming number of bags and hatboxes. Isabella stared, astonished.
“Good heavens,” she murmured, amused. “You appear to have purchased all of London.”
“That was the goal,” Lady Kendrick replied proudly. “I have failed only because my coach seats are limited.”
Isabella’s giggle filled the room as she followed her inside. Once the footmen filed out and the doors closed behind them, Lady Kendrick turned abruptly, grasping both of Isabella’s hands.
“Grandma?” Isabella asked, but Lady Kendrick’s expression changed in an instant, her eyes glistened, a soft tremble touching her lips as she looked up at Isabella.
Isabella stiffened. “Is something the matter?”
The older woman gave a watery laugh and dabbed her cheeks with a handkerchief quickly.
“Oh, heavens, do not fret, child. They are tears of joy, nothing more,” she said and grasped Isabella’s hand once more.
Still, Isabella’s heart beat wildly, worries spinning through her mind until Lady Kendrick squeezed her fingers, warmth seeping through her fingers.
“I am so very delighted things turned out this way,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “Ah no—that is not precisely what I meant.” She shook her head at herself, giggling a little before recovering her bearings.
“Forgive me. What I meant to say is, since the night of the fencing demonstration, I have coveted you as my granddaughter-in-law. Something about you appealed to me, the way you portray yourself, how you stand firm by your beliefs regardless of what others think.”
She paused and squeezed Isabella’s hands again. “I prayed relentlessly, that Cassian would open his stubborn eyes and see how absolutely wonderful you are … and thankfully he did.”
Isabella stared at her, stunned. “You—you wished for this? Even then?”
Lady Kendrick laughed, patting her cheek. “Of course, child. Although I hoped it would happen under more proper circumstances.”
Isabella colored fiercely.
“Do not blame yourself for failing to notice. I took great care to be discreet.”
Isabella’s smile wavered, touched with embarrassment and gratitude. She had known Lady Kendrick favored her greatly, but she’d been under the impression that it was her idea for the Laurel club that made it so.
“I had no idea.”
“And that,” Lady Kendrick said triumphantly, her shoulders high, “means I succeeded.” She released her hands only to begin opening the parcels on the table. “Now, come see what trifles I have brought you. One cannot be a duchess without the proper armor.”
Isabella leaned forward, intrigued, as Lady Kendrick unveiled an array of elegant gloves, soft kid-skin shoes, delicate bonnets trimmed in winter flowers, and jewels that sparkled faintly even under the muted daylight.
Each gift seemed to have been chosen with precision, care, and a keen understanding of what would suit Isabella best.
As Lady Kendrick held up a pair of sapphire earrings, Isabella felt warmth unfurl in her chest, just in time for the older woman to lower her voice and say, “And I did hope all of this would distract you until my grandson—”
A deep voice cut in from the doorway.
“So these gifts are all for the Duchess,” Cassian said, sounding more amused than disapproving. “And the Duke?”
Isabella turned sharply—and her breath caught in her throat.
Her husband stood firm, framed by the doorway, wearing a black shirt loose at the collar, two buttons undone.
His hair was damp, a tell-tale sign of exertion, sweat dripping down his temples and darkening the tips.
A few strands clung to his forehead above those unsettlingly grey eyes that found Isabella first, then Lady Kendrick, missing nothing.
The faint sheen on his skin testified to the ride, making him seem unguarded in a way Isabella had rarely seen. Her cheeks warmed instantly.
Lady Kendrick sniffed in disapproval, her nose in the air. “Is that how you greet your grandmother? With accusations? No wonder I did not feel compelled to buy you anything.”
Isabella bit down on her lip, struggling to stifle her laughter.
Cassian stalked forward, folding up his sleeves as he entered the drawing room. “Welcome home, General Marguerite,” he drawled. “I’m happy you are back in one piece.”
Lady Kendrick waved a dismissive hand.
“Even though your words reek of sarcasm, flattery will not earn you nothing from me, Cassian.” She paused, then brightened mischievously. “However, I did bring something for the both of you.”
Cassian’s brows snapped together immediately. “I do not like the sound of this.” Isabella giggled beside Lady Kendrick.
She had always admired the fondness between Cassian and Lady Kendrick. They acted like a cat and mouse, always at each other’s throats, yet they felt deeply for each other. Turning her attention to the situation at hand, Isabella raised a brow at Lady Kendrick in question.
Lady Kendrick reached into her bag and produced a sealed square envelope stamped with a noble crest. “Lady Charlotte Darby is hosting her renowned winter ball. It is the perfect opportunity for you both to appear as a married couple. As the Duke and Duchess of Everthorne! How exciting.”
Isabella saw Cassian’s jaw clench instantly, his lips parting, clearly prepared to refuse—until he met Isabella’s eyes. She lifted a brow silently, and his mouth closed.
“You decide.” He raised his jaw at Isabella, who stifled a smile.
Lady Kendrick grinned triumphantly. “I assume that it is a ‘yes’ for my sake.”
Cassian said nothing, but Isabella noticed the muscle in his jaw ticked still.
Isabella accepted the envelope and opened it delicately, scanning the beautiful script. While she did, Lady Kendrick spoke.
“I was also thinking,” she raised her voice with a flourish, “that the Laurels might attend as well. Perhaps they could give a small demonstration, to show the ton that we are not merely a gossip mill.”
Isabella exchanged a slow, wary look with her husband, but he shrugged faintly, clearly resigned.
Isabella turned back. “It is a lovely idea,” she began carefully, “but our reputation among the ton is not the most favorable.”
“All the more reason to prove them wrong,” Lady Kendrick insisted brightly. “A demonstration would stun the ton into silence about us.”
Isabella chewed her lower lip, thinking. Then, lifting her gaze to the older woman, she replied gently, “If Lady Darby agrees to it… Then I shall prepare the Laurels for a demonstration.”
Lady Kendrick clapped her hands once in delight, jewels on her wrists chiming softly. “That is precisely what I wished to hear!”
Cassian groaned under his breath, which only made Isabella smile.
The evening air was sharp with winter when the Everthorne carriage rolled towards Lady Darby’s townhouse, its towering windows glowing gold through the icy dusk. Inside the carriage, Isabella sat slightly trembling with both hands clasped in her lap until a warm, calloused hand settled atop hers.
Cassian’s hand.
She looked down at the unexpected gesture, then up at him, a question in her gaze. He watched her with an unreadable expression, though something gentle flickered beneath it.
“You seem nervous,” he said quietly.
“I am,” she confessed.
He brushed his thumb once over her knuckles. “You should have told Grandmother if you had other thoughts about this demonstration.”
Isabella shook her head.
“No. She is right. We have every right to defend ourselves. To prove to the ton that we are not what they say we are and that we can do more than they think we can.” She drew a breath. “After tonight, I fully expect the Laurels’ numbers to grow tremendously.”
Cassian studied her, then nodded once, pressing the back of her palm to his lips. “If you say so.”
Their carriage slowed to a stop. Behind them, Lady Kendrick’s own carriage came to a halt, the older woman leaning forward eagerly in her seat, waving as though she had spotted long-lost family.
Darby Manor gleamed like a frosted jewel, bedecked in winter splendor.
Pine garlands draped the banisters, snow-dusted florals adorned crystal vases, and hundreds of candles cast warm light against walls painted in creams and silvers.
The ballroom was transformed into a winter forest—branches dipped in glittering frost, chandeliers dripping with glass icicles, and the scent of mulled wine threading through the air.
The moment Cassian and Isabella entered, heads turned.
No, every head turned.