Page 17 of Her Beast of a Duke
“I thought a spontaneous visit was best,” she said.
“That merely means you have heard the news,” Isabella all but sighed.
“Lord Harcross’s balls are not quiet affairs,” Hermia noted. “It is no surprise that the news has traveled fast, but I am rather offended I was not told personally.” She smirked, cocking her head at Isabella.
She came over to the pianoforte, leaning her arms, unladylike, on the shiny surface of the instrument.
“Do fill me in, sister,” she invited. “For, if I recall, I could not escape telling you all ofmywedding arrangements and life thereafter.”
“That is because there was a story to tell,” Isabella pointed out, pretending to turn back to her playing.
In truth, she had half-forgotten the melody she had begun to work on. Hermia, of course, was relentless.
“I love a story whether it exists or not,” she teased. “And I do believe this one does. Mama, do give us a moment.”
“But—”
“Please,” Hermia added.
Despite Hermia and their parents’ differences in the past, Isabella could not help but notice that Hermia had garnered quite a bit of respect since becoming the Duchess of Branmere. It all played into their mother’s love of hierarchy.
As their mother left the room, Isabella spoke up. “I wonder if she will finally listen to me once I become the Duchess of Rochdale, as you are the Duchess of Branmere.”
“Well, Mama can say at least two of her daughters are duchesses,” Hermia pointed out. “I am certain she is very pleased.”
“She was not last night,” Isabella muttered and began to recount the tale of the whole evening. Her sister’s face darkened at the turn of Lord Peregrine’s character and became even darker when she heard of Isabella’s torn dress.
Idly, she wondered if they both thought of Sibyl and the ordeal she had gone through with Lord Grenford at the garden party hedge maze a year ago.
“Sister,” Isabella began, before hesitating. “I… What is it like, being a duchess to a man who is…”
When she struggled to find a kind enough word, Hermia smiled knowingly. “Not theton’sfavorite gentleman? A rough man with little politeness to him, except for unexpected moments? A duke who does not abuse his power?”
Isabella blanched but nodded. “I suppose.”
“It was hard for me at first,” Hermia admitted. “I tried to hide most of that from you all, but it… it was indeed trying at times. Not only did I shoulder my own reputation, but the scrutiny that came with marrying Charles. However, look at me now. Everything worked out rather beautifully.”
She ghosted a hand over her stomach, a soft smile on her face.
“Isabella,” Hermia said after a beat of silence. “Are you certain this is what you want? Just a week or so ago, you were left at the altar, only to now face it again in several days. It is an unfair question to ask, I know, for if I had been asked the same thing, I would not have been certain. But I must look out for you.”
“I know,” Isabella insisted. “But you do not need to. I have accepted the proposal, and His Grace and I agreed this is the most logical solution.”
“Is logically the way you wish to approach your future?”
“Hermia,” Isabella sighed. “What other choice do I have? I do not have time to go through the marriage mart, and even if I did,no lord looked at me last night with any interest. And why would they? Why would they look at a jilted bride?”
Until the Duke.
“I do not want you rushing into something that does not feel right.”
“And I cannot afford any other option,” Isabella answered. “I am fine with this.”
“But fine is not?—”
“Hermia,” she said gently. “I know what I am doing. If anything, I am following in your footsteps.”
“Still,” she sighed. “I wish to remind you that Charles and I can use our influence to get you out of this arrangement. We can fix your reputation to give you another option.”
