By the time I finished the letter, I had crushed it between my fingers. Tears of sorrow, laced with underlying anger, trickled down my cheeks. In my heart, I knew that Reginald did not wish us to part. Nevertheless, my father must have interfered and put his foot down as he had warned. Hatred for my parents consumed me to such an extent that I feared I would run downstairs and stab my father with the cutlery on the breakfast table.
Undeterred and defiant, I wiped my tears from my cheeks. The letter found a place in the bottom of my dresser drawer underneath my slips. After powdering my nose again, I descended the stairs to join my family for breakfast. Two can play this game, I thought to myself. And play it to the end, I would.
“Good morning,” I gleefully announced, heading for the sideboard and grabbing a plate. Father sat, going through the morning mail. Needless to say, I loathed the despicable man. After filling my plate with food, I sat down, flipped open the linen napkin, and placed it on my lap.
“I’ve been thinking,” I stated. “If you wish me to make a good impression at the opera this Friday with Lord Ridley, a new evening gown might do the trick.” Instantly that comment perked my mother’s ears that I should suggest enticing the man with a new frock. Father, who never remained quiet when money was mentioned, took no time answering after considering the merits of my suggestion.
“I have no objection. You may charge it to my account, but don’t overdo it,” he warned.
“Thank you. May I have the driver take me into town around eleven?”
“Do you wish to accompany Isabella?” My father glanced at my mother, suggesting to ruin everything.
“Oh dear,” she sighed. “I’m afraid that my lady’s bridge club meets this morning here at our home.”
Too blind to see any untoward motives on my part, she relented.
“You may take the car and go. Will you be seeing our usual dressmaker?”
“Yes, no doubt,” I replied. “However, if I find nothing to my liking, I may try a few other shops.”
Father placed his hand inside his vest and pulled out his wallet. To my shock, he opened it and grabbed fifty pounds, handing it over to me.
“Here, take this in case you need anything else.” He held out the crisp notes.
Devil, I thought to myself. He is going to shower me with clothes and money to purchase my willingness to court the snake. The two of them were in cahoots regarding my future, which bordered on criminal. My mother appeared to be uninformed, but I wondered about her involvement too. Naturally, I grabbed the offering without guilt.
“Thank you,” I said demurely. “It’s very kind of you to offer.” I folded the bills and shoved them in my skirt pocket that had recently held Reginald’s letter. Little did my parents know that I planned to break the barrier between the two of us while dress shopping. Frankly, I felt gleefully wicked.
AS I PACED UP AND DOWN the street, keeping an eye on the firm’s office door, I anticipated that Reginald would eventually leave for lunch. For my daring plot to work, I prayed earnestly that he would be alone rather than eat with a coworker. My wristwatch had just moved its hand toward noon. Inwardly, I despaired he would appear. I halted for a moment, wringing my hands in worry, when the door flew open and Reginald bounced down the stoop to the sidewalk. He turned toward the left unaware that I stood only a few yards away. As he traversed the crowded walkway, I gained distance until we strode side by side.
“Hello, Reginald.” Naturally, I could not contain the giddy smile spreading across my face. He halted in his step when he heard my voice.
“Isabella!”
A mixture of surprise and fear flashed in his gaze, which caused me to doubt the wisdom of my actions. The last thing I wanted to do was cause him trouble.
“What are you doing here?”
He glanced around at the people surrounding us as we stood still in the midst of a rambling crowd, appearing fearful that we might be seen together.
“I needed to see you,” my voice quavered.
“Didn’t you receive my letter?”
“Yes, of course, but—”
His eyes darted over my shoulder, and alarm spread across his face. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me through the door of a nearby flower shop. With apprehension etched across his face, he watched another male pass by the door.
“That was close.” His chest heaved. “Our clerk could have seen us together.”
Reginald turned his attention to me, and I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him until my lips swelled. The aroma of the flower shop’s blooms filled my nostrils, sending romantic notions swirling through my head.
“May I help you?” A voice from behind the counter inquired as a result of our sudden presence. A small, stout, middle-aged woman smiled in our direction.
“What should we do?” I whispered.
“Purchase a bouquet,” he answered quietly. “Seems only natural.”
“Oh, I couldn’t take it.” I knew if I returned with flowers, my parents would question me relentlessly. Besides, I still needed to shop, and carrying around a dozen red roses in my arms would be rather awkward.
“Just one,” I replied. “Purchase one red rose for me to take away and tell me there is still hope that we will be together.” My desperation needed a sign.
“How can there be?” Reginald whispered in my ear. He looked at the clerk and implored her absence. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied. “I have things to do in the back room.” She grinned at the two of us as if she were watching a romantic dalliance play out before her eyes.
When she disappeared, I turned toward him. “Reginald,” I pleaded. “I do not wish to part.”
“Neither do I.” He reached out and grabbed my hand, holding it tightly between his cold fingers. “But darling, the choice has been made and we must.”
“My father threatened your livelihood. He told me would,” my voice boomed. “I hate the man.”
“Don’t,” he said. Reginald brought his hand to my cheek and glided his fingertips across my skin. “He has his reasons.”
“What reasons? He wishes me to marry an aristocrat. This is the twentieth century, for heaven’s sake, not the past where a woman had no voice in the matters of the heart.” My lungs heaved, rapidly inhaling air as I spewed my displeasure. Reginald, on the other hand, appeared resigned to our plight and calmer.
“Let us meet in secret,” I beseeched. “What harm can it do?”
“I’ve been told that your engagement is pending with Lord Ridley,” he sadly remarked. His gaze pulled away as if it hurt to admit the announcement.
“Yes, my parents desire it, and the snake wishes it.” I seethed in disgust. My hand began to tremble in Reginald’s as he continued to hold it tightly.
“Snake?” he asked quizzically.
“I think he’s a snake, and I have no desire to be his wife. Nevertheless, he...” My thought shifted into silence, holding back the secret he professed to hold. Surely Reginald would think me a foolish woman to be manipulated as such.
“Darling, you should do as your parents require of you,” he admonished me in a fatherly tone. “They have your best interests at heart. Besides...” He halted his words and gazed into my eyes longingly. “The responsibilities I bear between work and home make it difficult to pursue a courtship.”
My heart sank into an abyss of despair. “You don’t mean that,” I protested. “You love me, and I love you.”
“Isabella,” he breathed from his lips, imploring me to understand.
Not caring who witnessed my actions, I flung my arms around Reginald and kissed him ardently. My body and soul ached for him. An undeniable connection between the two of our hearts existed, and no matter how much he protested, it could not be denied.
Rather than resisting me in return, Reginald passionately responded. His kissed me deeply, and I felt my strength drain from my body as if I were at his mercy to do with me as he pleased even in a
flower shop. My heart adored him, and I wanted to be his wife. He pulled away from my lips, gazing at me as if he were in agony too.
“I adore you; you know I do,” he muttered, sounding tragically poetic.
Unable to commit further with words of love, he turned toward the counter. The clerk reappeared from behind a door, smirking at the two of us.
“One long-stem red rose, with a white ribbon,” he ordered.
Reginald pulled out a few quid from his wallet and handed it over. In return, she gave him a perfectly bloomed flower, with a bow tied around its stem. When he handed it to me, my heart leaped in my chest.
“Darling, this is all I can give you at the moment as a token of my love, but I can hardly give you any hope of a future.”
My trembling hand reached out and took the rose, clutching it to my chest. “Please, Reginald, let us see one another when we can,” I implored him.
He lowered his head in disappointment. “I cannot in good conscience encourage or agree to a duplicitous relationship. It does you, your parents, and even Lord Ridley dishonor.”
“Oh, Reginald,” I groaned. “Don’t...”
“I must go,” he said. He put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek as if I were a little girl in need of assurance rather than the woman he intimately longed to make love to.
“Will I see you again?” I asked on the verge of tears.
“I cannot say,” he replied indifferently. With those words, he flung open the door and sprinted down the sidewalk out of sight.
Too distraught to move, I remained standing by the door, clutching the rose. Even though all the thorns had been clipped from the stem, I felt as if one had lodged painfully in my heart.
“If it’s any consolation,” the clerk said, “it is clear to me the man is besotted with you.”
“Perhaps,” I whimpered. “But we cannot be together.”
“Don’t despair,” she assured me. “Love often wins.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
With a rose in hand, I stepped out into the fresh air, glancing to my left and right. Reginald had disappeared. Now alone and with money in my purse, I had the awful task of dress shopping for my engagement with Lord Ridley. The onerous task would not be an easy one. In a daze, I headed for the dress shop with a bleeding heart and reddened eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
The Out-of-Tune Aria
There I was, sitting in a box at the Royal Opera House, attempting to enjoy my evening. Adorned in an expensive new evening gown, I had to admit that I looked stunning. Lord Ridley, who now insisted that I address him as Edward, repeatedly complimented me on my new finery. When Father saw the bill, though, he showed less pleasure. Perhaps I did spend a tidy sum, thinking it apt punishment for his manipulation. Regrettably, I had come to the snarly conclusion that most men were schemers. Even Reginald had attempted to influence me to do the right thing.
When intermission arrived, I rose to my feet to stretch my legs. My intentions were to run to the ladies’ powder room and spend the next twenty minutes hiding from my escort. Edward apparently had other things in mind.
“Stay,” he said, reaching out and grabbing my hand. “I wish to talk.”
“About what?” I flashed a disgruntled look, conveying my annoyance. Ignoring me, he pulled me back until I felt forced to sit again.
“Talk with me,” he implored. “We have spent hours together already this evening, and you have barely uttered two sentences.”
I had been overly quiet and uninterested in Edward’s company. My mind would not stop thinking of Reginald. Nevertheless, having been schooled to be a lady, I had to admit that my behavior bordered on rudeness.
“I apologize,” I said, straining to keep eye contact with him.
“You are struggling. I understand,” he said. “If you would just surrender, Isabella, you would feel more at ease,” he entreated in a softly spoken tone. It did nothing to help his raspy squeak of a voice.
Surrender? I stiffened instead. I didn’t wish to give in to his advances. All I wanted was Reginald, but the gulf between us loomed even wider as I sat there with no other options to pursue. Regardless of how kind and attentive Edward had played his part, I felt we were out of tune on so many levels. The aristocrat before me had nothing that I wanted, except one thing.
“Do you really know where she is?”
The charm he had wielded earlier evaporated. His eyes grew dark as he warily looked at me. Underneath his tender pretense, I saw an exasperated man.
“And if I told you, would that make any difference?”
“What do you mean?”
“Would you allow me to love and marry you?”
He studied my reaction, but I merely recoiled at the thought.
“She is closer than you think,” he said, teasing me even further.
In my mind’s eye, I could see him dangling happiness before me like a bright, shiny diamond. Torn between my love for Reginald and love for my daughter, I inhaled a labored breath. The beating heart in my chest had been wounded time and again. I wanted Reginald, but I wanted to know of my daughter’s welfare. Edward’s eyes kept a steady stare on me as I contemplated my options.
“I’m weary,” I replied glibly. “You offer your love, but I am in love with another man who I’m forbidden to see.” Tears stung my eyes. “And now you tempt me with the singular promise of revealing my daughter’s whereabouts. It’s cruel.”
“Love can be cruel,” he replied coldly. “Nonetheless, Isabella, you must confess that when you gave yourself to a stable boy with no thought of consequences, you gave away more than your body. You relinquished your free choice in all aspects of your life, which changed its direction.” He hesitated for a moment and then continued. “Is it a wonder that your father insists on making decisions for you after the poor choices of your past?”
His words pricked my heart. They were truthfully brutal. Nevertheless, I paid my price and matured as a result of it of that I was sure. I had evolved into a woman. Now a choice remained—what kind of woman would I be going forward? There were two options. A submissive girl or an independent female.
At that moment, the lights dimmed and my opportunity to escape to the powder room had vanished. Edward continued to hold my hand, rubbing his thumb across my flesh as if to soothe my sorrows. I turned and looked at him. Would it be so difficult to fall in love with another man? After all, he was titled, handsome, and wealthy, although I thought him rather of a serpent in character with a squeaky voice. The man knew what he wanted, which was more than I could say for myself. Did he possess the power to turn my heart from Reginald and give me the chance to see my daughter? I would never know unless I surrendered.
The remaining acts of the opera ensued, but like the first half, I found my mind wandering and not paying attention. As I heard the voice of the soprano reach the high notes, I relegated my struggle to an out-of-tune aria. There I was on stage. In the audience sat my parents. Reginald took a seat next to my mother while Edward sat next to my father. To be honest, I could never keep a tune, and I knew as soon as I opened my mouth they would laugh at my terrible pitch. Yes, my life had no harmony, and I needed to make a decision.
The performance ended, and Edward held out his hand to help me from my seat. When I glanced in his eyes, he had returned to an attentive escort. An adoring smile curled the corner of his lips, and for some odd reason, I returned the gesture.
“We should catch a cab, or we will be late for our dinner reservations,” he said, gesturing toward the exit.
“Of course.” His hand slipped gently around my waist to guide me into the hallway, and afterward, he offered his arm. As we traversed the crowded hallway, I scanned the crowd, hoping to see Reginald. Naturally, I knew it would be highly unlikely to cross his path. Perhaps inwardly I wanted him to arrive as my knight in shining armor on a white horse to rescue me from this road I found myself walking. When we climbed into the cab, I pushed aside the foolish thought because no o
ne would save me from the decision I needed to make.
AFTER SURVIVING THE evening with Edward, I woke up the next morning with a slight headache, attributing the pain to too much champagne at dinner. The thought of hiding under my down-filled blanket the entire day felt tempting. Regrettably, in my alcohol stupor, I had agreed to another engagement with Edward. As I glanced at the clock, I moaned at the hour. He would arrive at nine o’clock to take me to West Sussex, two hours away. Another important horse competition, the Goodwood Glorious, was in its fourth day of events. This particular track, owned by the Duke of Richmond, had also garnished aristocratic popularity over the years. The affair wasn’t as formal as the Royal Ascot, but I needed to dress appropriately and choose a hat. As I glanced at the window, I could see the sun seeping through the crack of the closed curtains. The English rain hadn’t arrived to give me a reprieve.
A soft knock came at the door, and I heard Mother’s voice.
“Isabella, are you awake?”
“Yes,” I groaned. In an attempt to get out of bed, I swung my legs around and sat on the edge. Mother, rather than waiting for an invitation to enter, did so anyway. Her familiar sour facial expression beamed with anticipatory glee.
“Did you have a pleasant evening last night?”
“Somewhat,” I answered, not giving her the satisfaction of bustling with delight over the affair.
“And today?”
“He is picking me up this morning to drive to West Sussex,” I responded, twisting my lips in protest.
“Oh yes, he mentioned his plan to take you with him to the Goodwood races.”
“I should think you would mind that he’s spiriting me off out of town for a day trip.” My motives were to incite worry in my mother regarding his behavior. Perhaps she would put a halt to the journey.
“No, not at all.” She nonchalantly brushed off my comment. “There is a vast difference in character, Isabella, if you haven’t noticed already, between stable trash and peers. Father and I trust him explicitly.”
Ladies of Disgrace Box Set Page 10