“If there’s a strange suspicious person in this tale,” Isabella snapped, “it is you.”
Sarah put her hand on her chest as if she had sustained a mortal blow, her mouth open in shock. “You see, that is what you don’t understand. This is no tale!”
* * *
Isabella could not believe her sister. The nerve of her to take it upon herself to go and insult Isabella’s beau! It was beyond scandalous. What must Emmanuel think of them?
First, her father, now her sister, had completely lost their heads! She needed to speak to her mother about all this and ask her to have a talk with both Father and Sarah. They were clearly suffering from some major delusions.
She jumped out of the curricle as soon as it came to a stop and hurried inside the house, calling for her mother.
“Where is the fire?” her mother emerged from the parlor, closing the door behind her, “I am entertaining guests, Isabella, could you keep your voice down?”
She waved away her mother’s concerns, clutching her arm and pulling her to the dining room. “Mother, you have to speak to your daughter.”
Lady Gefferton gave her a strange look, her hand rising to her ears to check that her diamond earbobs were still in place. “Whatever do you mean by ‘talk to your daughter’ Isabella? Are you speaking of yourself in the third person?” Her hand crept to her neck where she gave a magnificent imitation of clutching her pearls.
“No indeed, Mother. I am not speaking of myself but your other daughter who is in Town, Sarah.”
Lady Gefferton sighed tiredly. “Oh, Isabella, don’t tell me you two have managed to get in a fight already.”
Isabella puffed up like an adder, so angry was she. “She went to see His Grace! By herself! And said insulting things to him!”
Lady Gefferton frowned. “Whatever do you mean by that? Sometimes I just don’t understand you young people.”
“I mean exactly what I said. Sarah went to the Duke’s house, and started asking him all sorts of insulting questions, telling him to stop courting me.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know! I think Father put her up to it.”
“Stuff and nonsense! He would not do that.”
“Oh, but he did. Sarah told me so.”
Lady Gefferton simply gawped at her, mouth agape.
“Yes, Mother! You need to talk to your daughter.”
Lady Gefferton shut her mouth with a click, turning away from Isabella, still fingering her pearl necklace, the myriad of jeweled rings on her fingers glinting in the sunlight. “You must have been mistaken. Why would she do that?”
“You should ask her.”
Lady Gefferton sighed. “Leave it with me, Isabella. I’ll find out what is going on.”
Isabella nodded curtly. “All right, Mother. Please do it soon, though. I do not want the Duke to get cold feet.”
“Of course, darling. You should go and lie down, you’re evidently a little upset.”
Isabella huffed and strode out of the room, mumbling to herself.
* * *
A letter was delivered to Emmanuel’s residence that evening and he received it with relief and opened it at once.
Dear Duke,
I would like to sincerely apologize for my sister. I do not know what got into her head to encroach upon you in such a way. I want to emphasize that I had no prior knowledge that she was planning such a thing. Please believe me. I hope that this unfortunate incident will have no effect on our future plans.
I await your reply with bated breath.
Yours sincerely,
Isabella.
He stared at the ‘yours sincerely’ like it might hold the key to her soul.
Is it mine indeed?
Did she truly belong to him or were she and her family playing some kind of game with him? He just did not know.
For the time being, he decided to take her at her word. He picked up a quill and pulled a paper to him.
My dear Isabella,
I believe we have an appointment at Gunter’s tomorrow. I look forward to seeing you there.
Yours faithfully,
Emmanuel.
He called the footman to deliver it and then turned his attention to the administration of his estate.
* * *
Gunter’s Tea Shop was quite busy as usual, as they drew up in a curricle, its burnished wood trimmed in gold and glinting in the sunlight. Emmanuel carefully stepped down from his driver’s seat and then turned to help Isabella descend. She could not help the wide smile on her face as his hands spanned her waist and he lifted her with his strong arms and placed her on her feet.
“Oh. Strong.” Her cheeks were flaming with heat and she could feel eyes on her. The haute ton was probably quite shocked that the cripple and the bluestocking dared to show their faces in such a fashionable place. Emmanuel gave her his arm and she looped her hand through it, smiling uncontrollably all the while.
She followed him, head held high, as he led her to the shop.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace. It is indeed an honor to have you in my shop. What may I get you today?”
Emmanuel turned to Isabella, “What will you have?”
Isabella made a show of examining the choices on offer but she already knew what she wanted. “I think I’ll have the chocolate cream ice.”
Emmanuel nodded approvingly. “Good choice. I shall have the burnt filbert cream ice.”
“Excellent,” Gunter nodded, “Will you be eating it in the shop or shall my waiter bring it out to that magnificent curricle I see outside?”
Emmanuel looked at Isabella, eyebrow raised.
“Let us eat in your curricle, Your Grace.” She murmured softly.
Emmanuel nodded and conveyed their preference to Gunter before leading her back to the two-wheel curricle. He put his hands on her waist again and hoisted her back into her seat. She was quite flustered, thinking about what else he could do with those strong hands.
He circled to his side of the curricle and climbed aboard. They sat in silence for a moment, simply regarding each other.
“Everyone is looking at us.”
“No, they are too busy with their own ices.”
Isabella snorted. “It is not the ices that bring people here, you know. It is to be seen.”
“And to be able to spend time with a gentleman without offense.”
Isabella could not help but smirk. “That is true.”
They beamed at each other.
“Your ices, Your Grace and madam?”
The voice startled them both and they turned to see a waiter with a tray, two glasses filled with ices on it. Emmanuel reached down and retrieved them, passing Isabella her chocolate confection.
“Thank you,” she spooned up a morsel to have a taste, her eyes brightening as the cream chocolate melted in her mouth, “Mmm, it’s delicious.”
Emmanuel held out his spoon, “Would you like a taste of mine?”
Isabella looked around at the audience they had. “Maybe not just at the moment.”
Emmanuel brought his ice-filled spoon to his lips, putting it into his mouth slowly. “That’s a pity because…well, it’s delicious.” He slurped his ice loudly making Isabella grin.
“It cannot be better than mine.” She flicked her tongue around the spoon full of ice, her eyes on Emmanuel. He gasped, stiffening in reaction.
“Please don’t eat like that,” he begged.
Isabella cocked an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Because I like it a little too much.”
Chapter 13
Investigative Musing
“Because I like it a little too much.”
Those words played over and over in Isabella’s mind. She gave them different inflections, savoring the words, pondering them.
Did he mean what I thought he meant?
She suspected that their behavior at Gunter’s might have been just a little bit scandalous. The way he had looked at her, his eyes hot, skin f
lushed, his hand twitching slightly at his side as if he wanted to do more than just lick a spoonful of ice. She shivered, half wishing he had done whatever it was he wanted to do, half relieved that he hadn’t.
She straightened, frowning.
I should ask Mother about marital relations.
She got to her feet, heading for the door. She hesitated in the corridor, remembering that her sister was still around despite her incredibly terrible faux pas. Perhaps she would make a more truthful source of information. Isabella did not know if she could speak civilly to her, but if Sarah could tell her what she needed to know about the ways men and women related, it might be worth it.
She had yet to come across a book that explained it adequately. They probably existed, but there was no way she could get her hands on one. She sighed deeply, deciding to confront her sister.
She realized belatedly that she and Emmanuel had not even discussed her sister’s visit. She had no idea how he felt about it all. If she were to judge by their outing to the Gunter’s, she would say that he was unbothered by her sister’s antics but there had been no letter from him this morning…
What does that mean? Did he forget? Was he too busy? Or is he losing interest?
Isabella anxiously wrung her hands together. Making up her mind, she marched down the stairs and to the music room where her sister was ensconced at the pianoforte, picking out a tune as her mother knitted a scarf. It was her second most favorite activity after collecting jewelry.
Isabella hesitated at the doorway as her mother put down her knitting and Sarah stopped playing.
“Isabella! Come in.”
Isabella was already shaking her head. “No, I…wondered if Sarah would walk with me in the gardens.”
Lady Gefferton looked disappointed. “Are you two still fighting? It is quite unseemly at your age.”
Isabella held up her hands. “I don’t want to fight. Just to talk.”
Sarah stood up from her seat. “Very well. Let us talk, then.”
She strode purposefully out of the room and Isabella followed as their mother rolled her eyes.
They landed in the bottom garden where a glasshouse had been built for their mother’s hothouse flowers. Outside of the building was a bench at which one could sit and enjoy the sight of the flowers.
Sarah took a seat and looked up at Isabella expectantly. She sat down next to her sister, avoiding her eye while she cleared her throat and tried to find the words to ask her questions.
“Well, Bella? Why have you brought me here?”
“I, I, I wanted to ask you something.” Isabella risked a glance at Sarah, her face flaming.
“Go ahead.” Sarah folded her arms as if in preparation for battle.
Isabella took a deep breath and closed her eyes, praying for strength. “I…wanted to ask you about ma-m-marital relations.”
Sarah stared at her, open-mouthed. “I beg your pardon?”
“I…you have been married for three years now and…I…am to be married soon. I just wanted to know what…to expect.”
Sarah burst into peals of laughter. “Really? The widely-read Isabella Addison does not know what to expect in the marriage bed? What fallacy is this? What kind of books have you been reading?”
Isabella snorted. “You know Mother would never let me near any book that actually told me something practical about marriage. All I know is kissing and…touching.”
“Kissing and touching…” her sister buffed her chin. “So adorable in your ignorance. Is that what the Duke sees in you? Does he wish to sully your purity? Corrupt all your goodness? I can see the temptation.”
Isabella turned away, clenching her jaw in anger. “Will you help me or not?”
“Of course I’ll help you. You want to know what happens in a marriage bed, I will tell you. All you need to do is close your eyes, and open your legs.”
Isabella turned back to her, brow furrowed in puzzlement. “What does that mean?”
“It means that your husband will place his…manhood inside you. And it will hurt—the first time most of all—but you will endure it and then it will be over.”
“Th-that’s all?”
“I’m afraid so, my dear. That is all.”
Isabella felt her heart sink. “I thought there might be more. All the books imply that it is a blissful thing.”
Sarah laughed. “And indeed it might be. But not likely with your husband. The marriage bed is for heirs and satisfying men’s lusts, it is not for female pleasure.”
Isabella’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”
Sarah merely smiled. “You asked me how it is, and I am telling you.”
“You imply that the female derives pleasure elsewhere. Where is that?”
Sarah leaned over and patted her knee. “I expect you’ll find that out for yourself quite soon. Patience, my dear.”
Isabella felt even more confused than she had before.
Perhaps I would have done better to ask Mother.
* * *
“What are you up to, Gefferton?” Diana walked into her husband’s study without knocking. The Viscount looked up from his ledgers, eyebrow raised.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Why are you trying to undermine your daughter’s relationship with the Duke of Helmsfield? What is your objection to the match?”
“I have no objection.”
“Oh, no? Then why did you send Sarah to coerce him into dropping his interest in Isabella?”
“I did no such thing!”
“So you’re saying she just took it into her head to go and confront the Duke by herself?”
“Sarah has always been high-strung.”
Diana gritted her teeth. “You’re up to something, Gefferton. I know it. I cannot fathom why you would think you can hide it from me. I will find out what you are up to.”
Lord Gefferton spread his arms out, his eyes wide and innocent looking, “I invite you to give it your best effort. There is nothing I am hiding from you.”
Diana sniffed and whirled around to leave. “We shall see, Colin. And if you are up to some sort of…chicanery…”
Gefferton laughed. “Chicanery? I am a Viscount, My Lady. I do not indulge in chicanery.”
“Very well then, husband, I apologize for my assumption. Please speak with your daughter and let her know her intervention between Isabella and the Duke is unnecessary.”
Lord Gefferton inclined his head. “I’ll do what I can.”
“She listens to you.”
“I said, I will do what I can.”
Diana sighed, shook her head, and reached for the doorknob. She walked out of the room without so much as another glance at her husband.
* * *
“You have to be more careful than that. You cannot afford to show your hand in such an obvious way. You know how reckless Sarah is.”
Lord Gefferton turned as his cabinet opened and his steward stepped out. It was a large cupboard, filled with ledgers going back years, debts he owed and was owed, land titles, and other documents. His steward had already been in there when Lady Gefferton walked in with her demands, and it made sense that he would simply stay in there until she left.
“Do not speak of my daughter like that.”
“Apologies, My Lord, I simply meant—”
“I know what you meant,” Lord Gefferton bit out, “And I asked that you cease and desist.”
George Chandler bowed his head. “Of course. Understood.”
“Now, did you find those papers?”
“Not yet, but I will. We must get rid of them, just in case.”
“Please continue searching, then, because time is of the essence.”
“Yes, My Lord,” George said, a glint in his eye that Lord Gefferton did not like. It was way too late to do anything about it now, so he cast it out of his mind and continued with his ledgers.
* * *
Isabella left Sarah sitting on the bench and took a walk around the garden, deep in thou
ght. Her sister’s words confused her even more and now she had no idea what to think.
A Sinful Duke She Can't Refuse (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 11