A Matter of Sin

by Jess Michaels

  “You exaggerate,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I look no more at Lord Lyndham than I do at any man in the room.”

  Grace stifled a very unladylike snort. “Well, now I know you are pretending since your denial is far too obvious. I have eyes in my head, you know.”

  Isabel glared at her friend. “You look for things that aren’t there. I was attracted to Lord Lyndham when we arrived, but I’ve found it was a passing folly. Nothing more.”

  To her surprise, Grace was utterly silent. She stared at Isabel for a long, charged moment and then turned her attention back to the dance floor. “If you say so, my dear.”

  Isabel shifted. It seemed she had dodged a huge problem, at least for the moment, but somehow she felt less than satisfied by that fact. Especially since when she allowed herself to look for Seth from the corner of her eye, she found he was still in deep conversation with young ladies with far fewer years and far more appropriateness than she herself possessed.

  When Seth’s mother approached him with Sir Gregory Foxfire at her side, Seth had to suppress the urge to glare openly at the other gentleman. The man had been a neighbor to his family for as long as he could recall. In fact, Seth had always liked him, but now he could hardly stand to look at him. Not when he recalled the gentleman standing with Isabel, laughing with her, holding her attention for far longer than was necessary for mere polite conversation.

  His mother, oblivious to her son’s feelings, smiled as she asked, “Seth, my dear, did you say hello to Sir Gregory?”

  Seth extended a hand in greeting and forced what he hoped was a smile, not a grimace. “Sir Gregory.”

  As the man said hello, Seth seethed. In truth, he had tried to keep Sir Gregory from this party, holding back his invitation until the very last moment.

  “Will you gentlemen excuse me? The footmen are doing something odd with the seating by the dance floor edge,” his mother said as she disappeared toward the offending servants.

  Once she was gone, Sir Gregory turned toward Seth with an expression that was nothing but friendly. Seth almost felt sorry for hating the man.

  Until Sir Gregory said, “I must admit I’m happy to have your ear privately. I have something I wish to ask you about.” He shook his head. “No, someone.”

  Seth clenched his fists at his sides. There was only one someone he could think of that both he and Sir Gregory shared an interest in.

  “Oh?” he asked, unable to keep his voice from being thin and angry.

  “Yes,” Sir Gregory continued, apparently unaware of Seth’s feelings, for his smile never faltered. “During your country gathering I have had the pleasure of speaking to Lady Avenbury several times.”

  Seth barely maintained his composure. “Indeed.”

  “Yes, and what a lady I have found her to be.” Sir Gregory’s eyes grew distant, as if he was picturing Isabel even now.

  “Have you?” Seth asked on the barest of breaths.

  His companion nodded. “I am most impressed not only by her beauty, but her poise and grace and overall manner. I would be interested in perhaps pursuing her company beyond this party, and yet I wanted to know a bit more about her. I would ask your mother or one of the other ladies, but you know how they talk. I wouldn’t wish to cause the lady in question any embarrassment by creating gossip. I have the impression she wouldn’t like that kind of attention much.”

  Seth pursed his lips. The man didn’t know it, but he was asking far too much.

  “I wouldn’t really know, sir,” Seth said with a shrug.

  “Oh.” Sir Gregory’s face fell slightly. “Ah, well, I thought since she was invited that perhaps she had an intimate relationship with your family.”

  Seth flashed to a powerful image of Isabel spread across the bed in the gatehouse. He could still feel the paradise of sliding into her hot and heavenly body. And he could still taste her earthy flavor on his tongue. Certainly that was intimate.

  “No,” he finally managed to grind out past clenched teeth. “Not with the family.”

  “Oh, of course,” Sir Gregory said with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand across the room. “How silly of me. You must have an interest in her sister—that is why Lady Avenbury is here. An excellent choice, my lord. Lady Serena is a lovely girl.”

  Seth looked in the direction Sir Gregory had indicated and found Isabel’s sister amongst the partygoers. She was wearing a pale blue gown that was very flattering and her hair was done in a pretty style that accentuated her lovely face.

  And with all that, she did nothing to move him.

  He shot a side-glance toward Sir Gregory, who seemed to be waiting for him to respond. He could have been honest, but there would be no use to that. In fact, it would likely only encourage the other man to continue his line of questioning about Isabel.

  “Who would not think her lovely?” Seth asked with another false smile.

  “She is with another suitor now—you might think of approaching her,” the other man suggested helpfully.

  Seth ground his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was dance with Isabel’s sister as if he had designs on her. But now he was caught in this lie and he had to follow it through or risk raising suspicion.

  “A fine idea,” he said, “I thank you.”

  Sir Gregory waved him on toward Serena, and Seth slowly walked in the young woman’s direction. As he drew nearer, the girls around her noticed his approach and began to titter with unfettered excitement. His heart sank. The giggling younger women often grated on his nerves.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said as he reached their group.

  The young women said their hellos with a breathlessness that revealed their excitement as much as their flushed cheeks and bright eyes did. They were so different from Isabel and her more subtle attractions and reactions. And yet, she was considered inappropriate for him, despite their more well-matched temperaments and interests.

  He sighed before he asked, “I wondered, Lady Serena, if you have an open spot on your dance card?”

  Serena’s eyes went wide, but she recovered herself swiftly and nodded. “Indeed, my lord. I have the next dance free.”

  Seth stifled a groan. How could that be possible? He had so hoped she would have her entire night filled.

  “Wonderful,” he said with forced lightness. “Then may I?”

  She nodded as she took his offered arm and followed him to the dance floor. As the music lifted again, they moved. Seth looked for Isabel as they spun around the floor, but couldn’t find her in the milling crowd.

  “Thank you for asking me to be your partner,” Serena said, dragging him from thoughts of her sister. “I shall be the envy of my friends.”

  Seth smiled at her honesty. It made him like her a bit more. “I’m certain you already are, Lady Serena. I never hear anything but good about you.”

  She blushed rather prettily. “Oh, if that is true, it is all because of my dear sister.”

  With a start, Seth looked again at the girl. He had been forced into this dance by circumstance and societal expectation, but now he realized it could play in his favor. Who knew Isabel better than her beloved younger sister? If he tried a few subtle questions, he might have a whole new insight into the woman he had made his lover.

  “She raised you, did she not?” he asked with caution.

  Serena nodded and for a brief moment Seth glimpsed what kind of lady she would grow up to be. Something more like her sister, he thought. More serious. More thoughtful.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “After our parents died, Isabel and her husband took my sister and me in and raised us just as though we were their own.”

  “And what kind of man was Lord Avenbury?” Seth asked. The curiosity he felt about the last man who had been in Isabel’s bed was overwhelming, and she refused to answer questions about him. “I admit, I don’t recall him very well.”

  The young woman’s face became troubled by sadness. “Oh, he was the very best of men. I’
m sure it was a burden for him to take us, but we never felt it. He was so kind.”

  Seth frowned. He had only been thinking of Isabel’s late husband as her lover. He hadn’t thought of the other parts of their marriage. Now he wondered if she had loved him. If she still did.

  He saw Sir Gregory alongside the dance floor, watching the two of them with a satisfied, knowing smile. There was no doubt the other man would court Isabel in every way proper. He wasn’t interested in a lover, but a bride.

  “Do—do you think your sister would wish to marry again?” he asked Serena.

  She drew in a quick breath. “Oh my goodness,” she burst out. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? How I would love to see her married a second time.”

  Seth flinched. “And why is that?”

  Serena shook her head. “After all she sacrificed for us? She deserves nothing but happiness.”

  As they made a turn around the floor, Seth finally found the person he had been seeking. Across the room by a doorway, Isabel stood with her good friend, the Duchess of Jameswood. Although the two women were talking, Seth could see Isabel occasionally looking his way, only her expression was utterly unreadable.

  “Indeed,” he finally answered as Isabel turned away. “If your sister is all you tell me she is, it seems she would deserve everything you say and more.”

  Only what Serena hoped for was one thing Seth could never give Isabel.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “On the other hand, a true confidante is never to be underestimated.”—The Ladies Book of Pleasures

  As the midnight hour approached, Isabel felt no more certain about her agreement to meet Seth than she had all day. Yet she continued to ready herself for their tryst.

  “Foolish girl,” she admonished herself in the mirror as she smoothed her hair one final time. “To be so taken in that you cannot even maintain your dignity and stay away from the man when you sense his disinterest.”

  She shook her head as she turned from her reflection and toward her chamber door. She hadn’t gone but one step forward when there was a knock.

  Isabel tensed. The household had retired almost en masse over half an hour ago. There would be no reason for someone to come to her door now unless…

  Unless it was an emissary from Seth telling her to remain in her chambers because he no longer required her company. But would he be so cruel as to dismiss her that way?

  “What do you know of the man?” she murmured as she continued to stare at the door. “You may have noticed him in Society over the years, but you only just met him, after all.”

  The knock came again, this time more strenuously. Isabel knew she should move, she simply couldn’t force herself to do it. Facing whoever stood on the other side of that barrier seemed like a momentous task.

  “Isabel?” came a muffled female voice from the opposite side. “Are you already abed?”

  Relief flooded Isabel. “Grace!” she said as she hurried to give her friend access to the chamber.

  Grace drew back as Isabel threw the door open. “Goodness, you sound as though you were expecting something awful behind the door.”

  Isabel blushed. “Of course not, please come in.”

  Grace stepped into her chamber and quietly closed the door behind her. She stared at Isabel with blank confusion.

  “I’m surprised to see you are still dressed and that your maid is not in attendance.”

  Isabel looked down at the gown she’d worn to tonight’s ball.

  “Er, yes,” she said as she smiled at Grace nervously. She never had an easy time lying to the duchess. Her friend was simply too observant not to see through her when she tried. “I simply hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

  “And you seemed so tired when you refused my invitation to share a late drink in my chambers half an hour ago,” Grace said with a questioning tone. Her expression was rapidly brightening with suspicion. “So tired, in fact, that I worried about you and decided to check on you.”

  Isabel swallowed. “Oh. I appreciate the concern, of course, but I’m quite well. Just moving slowly.”

  Grace held her with a long, pointed stare for almost a full minute before she finally said, “Allow me to assist you, then.”

  She stepped back and reached for the pull that would ring the bell for Isabel’s servant. Isabel jumped forward without thinking.

  “No!” When Grace’s eyes widened and her hand hesitated at the bell, Isabel corrected her tone. “I-I only mean that I can call for myself after you go.”

  Grace shook her head. “All right, Isabel, what is going on? You have not been yourself almost since the first moment I arrived at this gathering.”

  Isabel shook her head. “I don’t know whatever you could mean.”

  “I have known you too long to believe that.” Grace’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me, I might be able to help.”

  Isabel squirmed and refused to meet her friend’s eyes. “Why, there is nothing for me to tell, I assure you—”

  “Great God,” Grace interrupted on a whisper. “You are having sex.”

  “What?”

  Isabel’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t even deny what Grace said, she was so shocked. How in the world had her friend reached that truth simply by talking to her for two minutes?

  Grace folded her arms. “You heard me. Are you or are you not engaging in illicit activity?”

  “No!” Isabel said, perhaps a bit too loudly.

  Add to that fact that she could feel a thin sheen of sweat begin to break out on her upper lip and she was fairly certain Grace wasn’t about to accept her denial.

  She was correct. Grace stared incredulously.

  “You are. I can see it on your face and my certainty only grows with each denial. You are flushed and although you seem to feel horror that I have unearthed your secret, I can see the affair gives you happiness.” Grace moved closer with a conspiratorial grin. “Who is he?”

  “No one.” Isabel turned away and paced a few feet from her too accurate friend. “There is no one! Your wicked mind is only overly imaginative.”

  “I will uncover the truth, my dear.” Grace moved on her, cornering her against the dressing table where she stared at her with intent focus. “You liked Lyndham. You were attracted to him. Is it him?”

  Isabel bit her tongue. There was no way she could look Grace in the eye, say no and be believed, so instead she turned her face slightly and hoped Grace would move on.

  It was a foolish hope. Her friend instead clapped her hands together wildly. “It is the marquis! Remarkable.”

  Isabel’s shoulders slumped in surrender and she shook her head.

  “Oh, do stop crowing,” she sighed as she sank down into a chair near the table she had been pinned against. “We weren’t supposed to tell anyone. It was even my own rule that we would not.”

  “Oh, but I’m not anyone!” Grace said with a laugh. “I am your best friend, so I don’t count.”

  Isabel smiled, but she felt little pleasure at telling her tale to Grace, who never seemed to doubt herself. And why would she? The duchess was a remarkable woman with vast experience and beauty to match. Often Isabel felt like an ugly duckling next to her friend’s swan.

  Isabel sighed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t think he wishes to continue an affair with me.”

  “What?” Grace took her hands and looked down at her in worry. “Why in the world would you think such a thing?”

  “He—he didn’t dance with me tonight. I think I was the only lady in the room who didn’t take a turn with him.”

  Now that she said it out loud, the statement seemed needy and foolish, so she waited for Grace to comment on it. But instead, her friend gave her a knowing smile.

  “Perhaps he didn’t dance with you, but you were the only lady in the room who he turned his eyes upon again and again.” Her friend shook her head. “Trust me, Isabel, he wants you. It isn’t very subtle.”

  Isabel couldn’t control her blush of pleasure at her friend
’s observation. Grace wouldn’t lie to her. She was blatantly honest, almost to a fault, so if she said Seth wanted her, it was because her friend believed that to be true.

  Only if Grace could see his desire, Isabel realized that perhaps his attentions were obvious to the group as a whole. That would be disastrous for both of them.

  “Oh no,” she breathed as she stared at Grace with wide eyes. “You don’t think the others know, do you?”

  Grace tilted her head slightly, and a curious expression touched her face. “No,” she answered slowly. “I’m not sure anyone is observing the two of you so closely. And even if they were, I’m not sure they would assume—”

  Her friend broke off her sentence suddenly and Isabel turned her face in embarrassment as she realized what Grace had been about to say.

  “I suppose you mean that no one would think Lord Lyndham was interested in me because of my age and the fact that I could not provide heirs to Hartley.”

  Grace hesitated, but her natural honesty kept her from cushioning her response and finally she nodded slowly.

  Isabel pondered that truth for a moment and let the sting she felt in response work through her slowly. She swallowed hard before she straightened up in her seat and said, “I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end. I’m only a lover to Seth. They are correct that I shall never be a wife to him…nor probably to anyone else.”

  She got up and paced to the window to look out over the dark garden below. She could make nothing out, but the action gave her some distance from Grace’s seeing stare and questions.

  Only her friend didn’t allow her much of a respite.

  “You seem troubled by what you say,” Grace whispered, her tone gentle.

  Isabel turned to face her with a shake of her head. “Of course I’m not. You mistake my meaning. I’m only stating a fact that my future probably won’t contain another partnership that promises forever.”

  Grace pursed her lips. “You know you could marry again if you wished to. Your earlier conversation tonight with Sir Gregory should have reconfirmed that fact to you without my having to state it.”