Page 69 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Lady Alison Heymouth,” the butler said as he led Alison into the drawing room. Teresa was already there, talking to Lady Isabella.
“Oh, you’re here!” Isabella rose from her seat and rushed over to Alison, taking both her hands and squeezing them. “It’s so good to see you. It seems like an age since the garden party.”
“It does,” Alison said, nodding and chuckling at the same time. Isabella always gave the warmest of welcomes. “Come. Now all three of us are here, our afternoon can begin in earnest. I suspect we have a lot to catch up on.”
Alison almost laughed at that statement. How true it was, and yet Alison hadn’t a clue where she would even begin. Still, of all the people she loved in the world, the two she loved the most were in that room.
Teresa rose from the seat and gave her sister a quick kiss on the cheek before returning to her seat.
The drawing room was a large room, airy and bright with windows that lined one wall. It was the room in which Alison and Teresa had first realized their connection, and it was a room that held many memories for each of them.
But in the year since that had happened, Isabella had insisted on redesigning the whole room, hoping to wash away any lingering ghosts. Gone were the deep-red drapes, only to be replaced by a lemon yellow that were lighter and brighter, and matched the new upholstery.
The carpet, though similar, had been switched for another, and the wallpaper above the mahogany surround was now covered in tiny birds and flowers. The only thing that could be easily recognizable was the detailed gold surround of the fireplace.
The room had a positively more feminine feel to it now, and Alison approved of the changes very much. She walked up to the large table that took up the bulk of the space. It was round and had been laid with a pristine white-lace tablecloth. Isabella had always been a stickler for white, and Alison knew how hard the servants worked to keep up with her demands.
“This looks lovely,” Alison said, taking her seat.
There was the tea set, of course, but also a selection of sweet treats. Along with the cakes and biscuits, there was a plate of fresh strawberries. They were a bright and brilliant red, so plump to be almost bursting, and Alison couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into one. That Isabella had managed to find such perfection really was something.
“Only the best for my truest and most lovely friends in all the world.” She clicked her fingers and the maid came running forward, pouring tea into Alison’s cup without needing to be asked.
“You do not know everyone in the world,” Alison said with a laugh. “So how can you possibly know we are the loveliest?”
“I just know,” Isabella said. “I don’tneedto meet anyone else to know.”
“You are the sweetest thing,” Teresa said before taking a sip of her tea.
The maid offered Alison a drop of milk, but Alison shook her finger, declining. She wanted to taste the bitter harshness of unadulterated coffee, a reminder, perhaps, that she was still in charge of some parts of her life, at least.
“Now,” Isabella said, “tell me everything.”
She looked from Alison to Teresa and back again, and Alison couldn’t help but chuckle. Isabella was always so bright and full of life, her tight black curls dancing around her face as she moved. Her gowns were always of the latest fashion, and her face always clean and fresh. She and her husband, the Earl, seemed to have everything from love to wealth and everything in between, and Alison adored her.
“Teresa knows,” Alison said.
“Teresa knows?” Isabella repeated, blinking at Alison. “Everything?”
Alison could see she was trying not to reveal too much, for fear that Teresa didn’t, in fact, know. The three sat around the table, their backs straight and their ankles together, each with a delicate teacup in front of them.
“Yes,” she said. “Fret not. I’ve told her the whole sorry story.”
“It’s not a sorry story,” Teresa said, putting her cup down on the saucer. Her own curls, longer than Isabella’s, fell forward as she did so and she shook her head to remove them from her eyes. “It’s a delightful story—or at least, it will be when it is finished.”
“Finished!” Isabella declared. “Goodness me, Teresa. You make it sound like they will all die in the end.”
Teresa tutted. “That is not what I meant and you know it,” she said, and although her tone was harsh, the upturn of her lips showed she was teasing.
“Teresa’s right,” Alison said. “At the moment, nothing is right. Not a single thing. But hopefully, with time—”
“What on earth has happened?” Isabella asked. “You were almost delirious at the party, so in love. And now, well, now you seem rather downhearted about the whole thing.”
“Luke and I declared our love for one another,” Alison said, a gentle smile on her face.
Isabella clapped her hands together in delight. “Oh, that is wonderful news,” she said, grinning wildly.
