by Diana Ballew
A short while later, they ended their visit, Isabella saying how she had much to do before the ball. She had an appointment at the seamstress, whom Alex said Whit had assured was the best, in an hour for a fitting. After that, she planned on stopping in at the milliner. She declined Alex’s invitation for dinner that evening. “You have spent too much of your time taking care of me thus far, Alex. You need a night off. Go and do wicked things to your mistress, who I’m not supposed to know about.”
As soon as he was gone, she sought out Alice and found the maid chatting with Edwards. Isabella and the others on her staff had taken an instant liking to the middle-aged butler. He was a quiet fellow, but quite brawny indeed. She felt very safe with him protecting her.
“Alice! I’ve a ball to attend tomorrow night.”
“Oh, my lady, what gown to wear?” Alice gave her a wicked grin. “The lavender, my lady?”
“Definitely.” He’d be there, and she would remind him just what he had turned away from.
The strategy she’d thought up was simple enough. She would try to show up every place he did. Given how he had reacted to her before, it shouldn’t be long before he was kissing her again. After that, she would just have to wait and see. Somehow, she would find a way for them to be together.
“Lord Stapleton and Lord Langley, my lady.” Edwards bowed to Isabella, then stepped aside to allow the young men to enter the parlor.
“Bella!” Alex boomed out. He suddenly stopped mid-stride, causing Whit, who was following close behind, to bump into him. “Good God, it’s a good thing there are two of us, with that gown.”
Whit peeked around his massive friend. “I say, Lady Isabella, it mended quite well.”
Isabella laughed at Whit, who was giving her a comically leering smile.
“Stop it, puppy. Are you ready then, me dear? Shall we go and knock them on their collective arse with your beauty?”
They rode in Alex’s coach, Isabella nervous beyond belief, and not only about all the strangers she would be meeting in a few moments. He would be there. Whit had confirmed it as they were leaving her little house. She chewed on her lower lip as the carriage came to a stop.
“Um, is it too late to change my mind? I think I’d rather just go home and read a book.” This was pure folly. She would make an idiot of herself, surely. What if he didn’t pay her any attention? What if he had another lady on his arm?
“Don’t be absurd, Bella. I didn’t put on me fancy togs for nothing.”
“Alex, she’s just nervous.” Whit followed his friend out of the carriage, then turned and offered her his hand. “Come, dear lady, you’re far above this worthless lot. Besides, you have two very capable escorts.” He nodded to her encouragingly.
“I’m sorry to be so silly, but” she said as she tentatively alighted from the carriage, “I’ve never been to so large a ball. I’m just your rural cousin, Alex. What if I embarrass you!”
“Damnation, Bella, then we’ll all have a good laugh.” Alex slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze before proffering his arm. “I can’t count the times I’ve embarrassed meself!”
Whit flanked her on the other side and offered his arm as well. “Shall we, Baroness?”
She gave them a grateful smile, took a deep breath, then allowed them to lead her forward.
“The Baroness of Kirkwood, the Earl of Stapleton, and the Viscount Langley!”
Goodness, Isabella had never seen so many people in one room before. And the jewels! She wondered how many thousands of pounds were on display this evening. She marveled, thinking how much land and supplies she could buy. And these people wore such wealth around their necks? It was quite absurd!
“Alex, Whit! Oh, my, who is this vision?” A short red-haired man approached them, openly ogling Isabella.
“Put you tongue back in your head, old sport. She’s me cousin,” Alex growled, leaning slightly toward the fellow.
“Lady Isabella Fitzhugh, Baroness of Kirkwood, may I present Lord Jeffrey Blake,” Whit offered.
“My most sincere apologies, my lady.” The little man looked uncomfortable indeed. “I fear your beauty caused me to loose my manners.”
“Thank you, Lord Blake,” Isabella murmured, not sure she should actually thank him for the remark.
“Do pass the word, Jeffrey, Lady Isabella is to be accorded every courtesy.”
“Of course, Alex. I shall make it abundantly clear, have no doubt.” He offered her an apologetic grin, his cheeks nearly as bright as his hair. “May I have the honor of a dance, my lady? I promise not to trod upon your delicate slippers, nor shall I allow your stunning beauty to again make me an ass.”
Isabella couldn’t help but return his smile. “Of course, my lord. I should very much enjoy it, knowing my toes to be safe for once and being well advised I will have to endure no braying.”
“Ha!” Jeffrey laughed. “She has a wit. Wonderful!”
“What is going on over there?”
“I don’t know, Mother. Would you like me to investigate?” Rafe offered.
“Don’t bother, dearest. Why don’t we slip out soon? It’s getting much too crowded.” His mother fanned herself. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
Rafe smiled indulgently. “Not at all.” He had only come to escort her. As they had already been there for quite a while, he was more than ready to leave. Numerous times he had caught himself comparing the young women present to Isabella and found them all sadly lacking. None had her glorious hair, her intelligent eyes, her allure. It had been nearly two weeks since he had left Bella and still she consumed his thoughts. Surely it was this unaccustomed guilt that made it so. Isabella was no experienced widow or coquette. He should not have taken such liberties with her.
He glanced across the room to see if the throng was still blocking the entry and was pleased to see the way finally clear.
“Come, Mother, let us make our escape now.”
Isabella laughed as Lord Blake whirled her expertly around. The man was surprisingly graceful. She saw Whit dancing with a pretty blonde in a bright red dress. Alex stood at the edge of the dance floor, watching her and talking to a group of men. He looked quite smug and she feared she was the topic of his discourse. She hadn’t yet spotted Rafe, although Lord Blake had assured her he was in attendance. He had apparently escorted his mother tonight. She had not yet summoned the nerve to ask how a lady could have her bastard son recognized by the Ton.
The music finally ended, but before Isabella could catch her breath, she and Jeffrey were surrounded by a dozen lordlings, all asking for the next dance with her.
“Gentlemen, allow the baroness some room, if you please.” Jeffrey straightened to his tallest, which had no effect on the crowd.
“Goodness, my lords, I do believe I should dance with my cousin, Lord Stapleton.” She was overwhelmed by their eagerness. Looking to where Alex had been standing, she was relieved to see him striding toward her, a dainty cup of punch in his large hand, his bushy brows drawn together menacingly.
“Step aside, puppies!” Alex frowned at them and they quickly dispersed.
“I leave the lovely lady to you now, Alex.” Lord Blake bowed over her hand, then dabbed at his forehead with a bright yellow handkerchief pulled from his dark blue coat pocket. “You are divine, my lady. I shall always be at your service.”
Alex watched the small man move away, only to be engulfed by several women, probably to interrogate him on his dance partner. “Bless me, Bella, you’re quite a hit. I shall have to hire several guards for you the next time. I can barely handle all these rascals by meself.” He handed her the punch, then looked around. “Where did that damn Whit get to?”
Isabella sipped the slightly tart drink. “Oh, thank you, cousin, this quite hits the spot. I saw him dancing with a blonde in a red gown just a bit ago.”
“That would be Melanie, I’m sure.” He cleared his throat. then took Bella’s arm, escorting her further from the dance floor.
>
As she finished her punch, Isabella surveyed the room. She wished she were taller. He must be here, somewhere.
“Looking for anyone in particular, me dear?” Alex chuckled. “Has some dandy already caught your eye?”
“Oh no, Alex. Don’t be silly. I just thought that I might see Rafe. I would like to surprise him. You did say he was coming?”
“Yes, I’m sure he’s here somewhere. His mother wanted to come.”
“His mother? Would that be the Lady Anne Lord Blake mentioned to me?”
“Ah, there you are, boy-o!” Alex slapped Whit on the back. “You can’t leave me here alone to handle all these idiots drooling over our Bella.”
“Nonsense, you’ve been glowering quite well by yourself. You succeeded in frightening numerous young fops away without my help.” Whit grinned down at Isabella. “Are you having fun, my lady?”
“Oh, yes, thank you.” She smiled sweetly, wanting to stamp her foot in irritation. She had almost managed to get some information out of Alex, just then. Now, another dance was starting and there were several gentlemen standing about them, trying to catch her eye. Suddenly, she was inspired.
“Whit, would you dance with me?”
“Why, certainly, my dear.” He gallantly bowed to her. “I am at your disposal.”
Alex took her empty glass and handed it to one young swain who watched with obvious disappointment as Whit led Isabella forward to join the other dancers. “Here, puppy, make yourself useful and get Lady Isabella a fresh cup.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen Rafe yet this evening?”
“I saw him leaving just a bit ago.”
“Oh, too bad.” It was hard to hide her crushing disappointment.
“Come, my dear, do try to enjoy yourself. You’ll see Rafe soon enough, I’m sure.”
“Do you think so?” She looked up at him hopefully.
“He’s sure to be at the party Blake is hosting two nights hence.”
“Excellent. Ah, that is to say I’m anxious to meet his mother.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. Lord Blake was telling me what a genteel lady she is.”
“Jeffrey called Anne genteel?”
“Oh, well, perhaps he didn’t actually say that.”
“I should think not. Anne is nothing if not sublimely cutting and I adore her. But ‘genteel’? Never.”
The music ended.
“My lord,” Isabella said as they made their way back to Alex, a calculating look on her face, “would you come to luncheon tomorrow? I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Ah, I thought you might, my dear. Of course, I shall be delighted.”
Chapter 14
They sat at her small dining table, which was covered with a delicate white lace cloth and several small plates of food.
“These crab cakes are delicious, my lady.”
Isabella watched as Whit finished off his third and reached for another, holding back the cuff of his hunter green day coat as he scooped the patty onto his plate.
“Yes, Rolands is very accomplished.” Isabella hadn’t even touched her food. She fiddled with the placement of her silverware and occasionally turned her plate to a different angle or sipped daintily at her lemonade. She was trying to think of how to begin. As nothing was coming to her, she took a deep breath and decided to just jump right on in. With practiced nonchalance, she plucked at the sleeve of her pale blue dress. Oh, this was awkward.
“Whit, I don’t suppose you’ll tell me the truth about Rafe, will you?” She toyed with her fork, held it up to the light streaming through the narrow window and rubbed at an imaginary spot with her finger. Her guest sighed and she dared to look up.
“Dear Isabella, I think it time you and I cleared up many matters.”
She exhaled with relief. “Goodness, yes!” Finally, she was to have her answers! “I want to know everything about him, my lord. Please be honest, hold nothing back.”
“But first, you must tell me something.” His look was so serious, she was afraid. “Did he compromise you, my dear?”
Her cheeks flamed scarlet and Whit cursed fluently.
“No! You don’t understand, my lord!” Isabella was alarmed, realizing he thought the utmost worst of the situation. “I am still chaste, but . . . The things he made me feel, well . . . ” She couldn’t look at him. He must think her awful to have allowed it to happen. Yes, she was a wanton.
“Isabella, I’ve never involved myself with my friend’s romantic dealings before, er, with one recent exception,” he cleared his throat,” however, it seems to me that I must intervene. For the sake of your honor, if not Rafe’s life.”
“What do you mean, ‘his life’?”
“Your large cousin, my dear, will kill him when he learns of what has transpired.”
“How could he possibly hear of it, when he couldn’t see it under his very nose at Kirkwood Manor?” Isabella thought he must be teasing her. Alex, for all his ‘brain-power’, was hopelessly dense about the attraction between her and his friend.
“Because I shall tell him, my dear.”
“Whit!”
He held up his hand to forestall her protest. “If Rafe has done the things I suspect to your fair person and refuses to do the honorable thing, then I can see no alternative.”
Isabella jumped up from the table and began pacing, with each sharp turn kicking her skirts out of the way. “I won’t have him if he’s forced, my lord. I won’t!” Goodness, this was not going how she’d planned. Whit, of all people, should be championing her efforts. He was, after all, the epitome of a rake and therefore should understand lust and love and all it entailed. Why, in heavens name, was he sounding so moralistic?
Whit sighed, eyed the crab cakes longingly, and then also rose. “Perhaps we should continue this in the parlor.”
Neither said anything until they sat on the cream-and-rose colored sofa, and Whit enfolded her hands in his.
“Now, my dear, you must tell me something else – do you love him? I do not mean infatuation. I mean really love him. I must know if I am to help you.”
Tears of gratitude filled her eyes. “Thank you, my lord. This means everything to me. Oh, Whit, it must be love, this way I feel.”
It was onto this scene Alex entered through the open doorway. He blinked repeatedly and was silent for all of five seconds before shaking his fist and shouting at his friend. “Ah, ha! I knew it! You’ve been bloody well sneaking about behind me back, you dog! You got her to fall in love with you!”
“Alex, please!” Isabella jumped to her feet. Oh dear, what a time for her cousin to visit.
“You’re on the wrong track, you dolt. She’s not in love with me!” Whit, his perverse nature at the fore, started to laugh.
Isabella wanted to cosh him but good.
“What? The devil, you say. I heard her just now.” Alex continued to glare at him. “She said she loved you!”
“No, no.” Whit doubled over. Isabella hit him in the arm, hard, and he sobered a bit. “Cat’s out of the bag, Bella. I’m sorry.”
“Whit, we can’t tell him. You said Alex would kill him!” Isabella frantically tugged on the sleeve of his coat, while glancing between the two, hoping she could get him to stand and do something to ease the situation. She couldn’t allow Alex to think she loved Lord Langley, but she was terrified of what he’d do to the man she truly did love.
“Just whom should I kill, if not him.” A confused Alex jabbed his finger toward the other man.
“Oh, this is dreadful.”
“Now, now,” Whit said, as he stood and patted her shoulder with one hand, while the other tried to pry her fingers loose of his best day coat. “He probably won’t truly kill him, just bloody him up a bit.”
“Alex, you cannot! I forbid you to harm him, do you hear me?”
“How can I help but hear you, me dear?” he asked dryly. “You are shouting at me.”
Isabella marched over to him and began poking him in the
chest with her finger. “I love him, and if you hurt him, I’ll never speak to you again!”
Alex winced at each jab. From over the top of her head, he gave Whit an apologetic look. “Sorry, old sport. It’s Rafe, ain’t it?”
Whit nodded to him. “Afraid so.”
“Well, blast and damn!”
“Now, Alex -”
“Don’t you ‘now Alex’ me, you silly twit!” He picked Isabella up and dumped her on the sofa, then began pacing. “Good God! Right under me nose! The cad seduced you right under me nose! And I sent him to you! I should have known I couldn’t trust the man. He should be horsewhipped, I say!”
Whit and Isabella rolled eyes at each other as the huge man bellowed.
“That blighter!” Alex continued, now extremely red in the face. “I will kill him! I’ll tear him limb from limb! And then he’ll marry you, I can tell you that!”
The two conspirators snickered.
“All right, fine. First he’ll marry you, then I’ll make you a widow.”
“She won’t have him if he’s forced, old boy.”
“What? When did she get a bloody choice?”
That got Isabella’s dander up. She stood and placed her hands on her hips, her back ramrod straight, her chin thrust forward. “I am my own mistress, Alexander Fitzhugh, and I’ll thank you to remember that. The choice is entirely mine. How dare you!”
She ignored the stinging heat infusing her cheeks. She had had quite enough of her cousin’s interference.
“You force a fake butler on me after not having seen me in three years, leave me in the dark as to why I am harboring the man, and now think to dictate to me whom I am to marry?” She snorted with contempt. “I think not, my lord.”
“Damn me, she has a grand fire, don’t she, boy-o?”
“You have got that right. I rather wished she had fallen in love with me.”
“Oh! Both of you are impossible.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “I give up on you two idiots. I will handle this myself. Just go about your debauched lives, don’t have a thought about me, the one you thrust into this mess.” Her glare dared them to do just that. “No, please, go back to your mistresses and drink and gaming. I shall manage splendidly, I’m sure.”