Page 73 of A Scottish Bride for the Duke
“If they had wanted to marry me so desperately, they ought to have offered for me,” she said.
“Well, Lord Moreton hardly had the chance.”
Isobel watched Eliza, who was watching her just as intently. This question was as much a test for her as her question about suitors had been a test for Eliza.
Interesting. So, Elizahadnoticed something, even if she didn’t know what.
But she couldn’t afford to tell her friend, even if part of her wanted to.
“And he won’t get the chance now,” she said lightly. “But I doubt he’s all that concerned.”
Eliza held her gaze for one long second before turning away with another easy smile.
“He’s asked after you a few times, but I suppose he was merely put out that he never so much as got a chance to dance with you before you married.”
“He asked after me?” Isobel asked, her voice a little higher than usual.
“A few times, but don’t worry, I got rid of him for you. I can’t say I like him an awful lot. You know what they say about younger sons.”
“I don’t,” Isobel said, intrigued despite herself. “Whatdothey say about younger sons?”
“Oh, merely that they were never born to inherit and thus are no good at the role in which they find themselves.” Eliza shrugged. “Heisa marquess now, but I think I can do better.”
“A duke?”
“A better man.”
The two ladies laughed, but when Eliza left, Isobel remained where she was, sitting quietly.
For one glorious week, she had lived in safety, but it was time to venture back into society.
Chapter Twenty
“What else have you discovered?” Joseph asked, his fingers tapping the side of his whisky glass.
Adrian leaned back in his seat. White’s was busy. Servants carried trays of drinks to the seated gentlemen, the cardrooms were full, and scantily dressed ladies perched on the knees of their paying clients.
“I had a letter from my Scottish contacts confirming that Isobel was at the ball with Moreton,” he said. “I didn’t doubt it, but it helps to have confirmation. No one saw them together, but that doesn’t matter. If he thinks she knows the truth, then his priority will be silencing her.”
Joseph watched him with unusual seriousness. “You’ve gotten yourself in deep this time, my friend.”
“I hadn’t exactly known about the mess when I asked her to marry me.” He threw his drink back, the scotch burning his throat.
Joseph cradled his whisky without taking a sip. When they discussed serious matters like this, they rarely drank heavily.
“Would you have done things differently if you’d known?”
Adrian sighed. “No. It was that or ruin her, and that would have put her in a worse position.” His stomach twisted at the thought of her not only not being his, but being in more danger. “The reason she fled the ballroom that night was because she saw Moreton. If she was now vulnerable to his advances—well, I don’t want to think about what might have happened.”
“You are fond of her, then?”
“She’s my wife.”
“My question still stands.”
“Yes, by God.” Adrian glowered at his friend. “I hardly see why you need to demand that answer from me at all hours of the day. Yes, I am fond of her. She is my wife, and I will not let anything happen to her.”
“What now?”
