Page 57 of A Scottish Bride for the Duke
Isobel struggled with her words, but eventually, she managed, “Does the duke know?”
“Of course. I informed him before coming over here. All the arrangements are made—there is nothing you can do to prevent me. And, with a little reflection, you will be extremely pleased that I left you both alone to come to terms with this new life of yours.”
Isobel wasn’t so sure she would find that relief. The dowager duchess had acted as a buffer between the duke and herself. Without that buffer, she didn’t know how their life together would go.
But she knew better than to confess to such feelings, so she merely raised her chin and smiled.
“Ye are too good, Yer Grace,” she said, and that was that.
Chapter Sixteen
“Iset a bath going for ye, Yer Grace,” Jane said cheerfully, leading Isobel into the nicely appointed suite. “I thought ye might want a chance to clean off before?—”
She bit her tongue, but Isobel suspected she knew what she had been about to say.
Before your wedding night.
Isobel almost asked if she could not have her old rooms back before clamping her lips tightly shut.
It took several hours for the wedding breakfast to fully come to an end and for the rest of the guests to leave the house.
Before Adrian could do or say anything, Isobel had mumbled an excuse and fled upstairs. Her maid had waited, guiding her to the duchess’s chambers adjoining Adrian’s rooms.
Isobel stared at her reflection in the mirror as Jane unlaced her dress and helped her step out of the remainder of her clothes. The water in the clawed bathtub steamed a little in front of the fire, and the hot water felt almost too hot to the touch as she sank in.
“Och, there ye go,” Jane said. “That’s better, aye?”
“Aye,” Isobel murmured, closing her eyes.
The steam smelled slightly of roses, and she felt her muscles relax under the influence of the heat.
She was a duchess. She couldn’t quite believe it, as though denial would bring her some measure of peace. But there would be no peace here. She had married the duke, and although he had volunteered himself for the task, he did not want to marry her.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
“If I may, Yer Grace, is there something wrong?”
Isobel opened her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Och, only that ye look a little sad, ye ken.” Jane bustled about the room, fetching fluffy towels and placing them over the divider that separated her bath from the rest of the room.
“It’s just…” Isobel sighed. “I never wanted to marry the duke.”
“Aye,” Jane murmured. “I ken.”
“And I never expected to marry him. That’s not why I came down here.” She swirled her hand in the water. “And he dinnae want to marry me.”
Jane settled on a chair, her eyes distant as she thought. “It would’ve been better for ye to have a love match,” she agreed. “It is unexpected, aye, but mayhap something good can come of it.”
Isobel raised her brows. “To hear everyone talk of it, something already has. I am a duchess now.”
“Aye, well. That’s something, to be sure.”
Isobel nodded, letting herself sink further under the surface of the water.
For all that Jane was a romantic, Isobel didn’t think her maid would understand. After all, to a servant, the idea of such social elevation was one of the most wonderful things that could happen.
No doubt Jane thought she could put up with a great deal to be a duchess. But Isobel had never intended to be so far pushed in the ton’s vision. She’d hoped to retire to her husband’s country estate and allow him, and her new position, to protect her.
