Taking Mary’s arm, she inclined her head. “Come, we are finished here.”
But before they turned away, Isabella glanced once more at her former fiancé. “And Lord Stanton? Do take care with your next engagement. Not every lady is as lucky as I was to find her freedom rewarded with better fortune.”
With a sweet smile, she finally pulled Mary away from him, leaving Lord Stanton staring after them both.
Over the next two days, Oscar threw himself into work, trying to distract himself from everything he was not saying to Isabella.
Namely, the fact that he had gone to ask her twice now to dine with him, and both times he had been unable to.
Then there were the incessant thoughts of Stanton anywhere near his wife, hating the fact that she had a history with him at all. The jealous possession raged through his waking hours, haunted his dreams, and Oscar was restless with it all.
She washiswife, and yet he could not even ask her to have dinner with him.
Every time he saw her, he thought of the hurt flashing on her face after he had pushed her away following their kiss. It sent him backward, distancing himself from her so he wouldn’t cause such a reaction. It was half a protection of not wanting to see the horror on her face and not wanting to hurt her.
But he sat now in his study, his pen hovering above the letter he was writing.
He wished to make a business proposal to a marquess in a nearby village. Although thetonhad their opinions of Oscar, men saw the business angle he provided them with. They could endure such beastly appearances for the sake of money, and Oscar used that to his advantage from afar.
“It seems that the thunderstorm will not let up,” Mr. Ashley noted, setting down the glass of brandy Oscar had requested.
He was half tempted to order his butler to leave the whole decanter and a glass, but he wanted to keep his mind clear.
“Indeed,” Oscar agreed without looking up.
As if on cue, thunder rumbled through the countryside outside. Moments later, it was followed by a flash of lightning. He stopped, thinking of Edmund’s questions from a while ago.
You do not know her favorite wine, or what she does indoors when it rains?
“What is Her Grace doing at the moment?” Oscar asked, telling himself he did not truly care.
“She was reading in the library the last time I saw her,” he told him. “Shall I call her for you?”
“No need. Is she… all right?”
Mr. Ashley eyed him all too knowingly. “If I may suggest, Your Grace, you always could seek her out and ask her. It is a terrible day to be stuck indoors, and I fear Her Grace grows restless easily.”
Oscar didn’t answer, and the butler left. He was left staring at the brandy set on his desk, half considering doing what his butler had advised. Shaking his head, he went back to his work instead.
But not even a half-hour later, the door to the study creaked open.
Oscar was already prepared to berate whoever dared to disturb him without being called to do so, but the words died on his tongue when he faced Isabella. She appeared slightly paler than usual.
“Good afternoon.” Her hands were tucked behind her back, and she rocked on her heels, as if unsure of whether she could enter the study. He didn’t think to tell herno, not like he would have at the start of their marriage. “How is work going?”
“Well enough,” he told her.
“I have been reading,” she said. “And… and I was thinking, for there is a description in the book of a study. I did not see a lot of my father’s study, so I thought I would come in here. One must fully picture a scene to enjoy it, no?”
“You… came here to enrich your reading experience?”
Isabella’s mouth curled into a smile as she hummed her acceptance. Only, her composure broke momentarily when another clap of thunder echoed outside. Her head jerked to the window, and he noticed the tremble of her shoulders.
“Well,” she said quickly, “I have envisioned it now, so I shall leave you.”
“Isabella—”
His wife had already scurried out, and Oscar swore he heard a shaky breath coming from her.