Page 26 of The Notorious Dashing Viscount
“No doubt,” Isolde echoed. So, this was how things would go now. She was going to be tricked and manipulated into social events. Lovely.
“Lady Wrenwood does host such remarkable events,” George sighed, shaking his head. “I was quite desolated not toreceive an invite. I suppose you’ve heard of the latest scandal in the Camden household? Lord Auric Wrenwood is said to be…”
“We’re understandably distrustful of gossip at the moment, Lord Raisin,” Beatrice interrupted neatly, not glancing up from her embroidery. “Since the scandal sheets print such lies about us, we must distrust any gossip we hear.”
That was a little harsh, in Isolde’s opinion, but she had already heard enough about Lord Wrenwood. He was said to be a violent man, a cruel husband and a worse father.
Something clicked in her mind, a connection amongst the endless members of the Ton.
“Lord Wrenwood is Viscount Henley’s father, isn’t it?” Isolde heard herself say.
George looked deeply displeased. “Well, yes, but I’m not sure why you would like to discuss that man after what has happened.”
Isolde resisted the urge to point out that nothing had happened, but George was already launching into another subject, pointedly asking Isolde’s opinion on the matter.
She was obliged to answer, and the hands on the clock crawled round until exactly fifteen minutes had gone past. Almost to the second, Lord Raisin rose, smoothing down his waistcoat and flashing a self-indulgent smile.
“Since we shall not see each other tonight, Lady Isolde, perhaps I could request the pleasure of your company in Kew Gardens, perhaps in three days’ time?”
Heavens, no, were the first words that popped into Isolde’s head. She opened her mouth, ready to make a polite demurral, but then noticed Beatrice’s expression.
It was a warning, pure and simple.
Isolde bit the tip of her tongue.
“Very well, Lord Raisin,” she managed. Not the most gracious of acceptances, but it was an acceptance, nonetheless.The anxiety drained from Beatrice’s face, and she gave an approving smile.
George beamed and bowed low over her hand.
“Until then, Lady Isolde. Your Grace, good day.”
And then he was gone, humming under his breath as he bustled out.
Isolde stayed silent until the door had closed behind him. She longed to go to the window, to watch him leave, but he might see her at the window and draw his own conclusions.
“He is not a bad man, you know,” Beatrice said quietly. “There are men in the world like Lord Auric Wrenwood, but George would not give you a life like that.”
“I’m not saying he is a bad man, only…”
“He’s pursued you through several Seasons. Does he not deserve a chance?”
Isolde turned her back. “Persistence is not love, Mama. One can’t earn a person.”
“The Marriage Mart would disagree. If you marry Lord Raisin, you’ll be safe and happy forever. Safe, happy, and respectable.”
“But at what cost?”
Beatrice bit off the end of her thread, holding up her embroidery for inspection.
“One could say the same about insisting on staying single. Isolde, as your mother, I must insist that you accept Lord Raisin’s attentions. Your Papa and I won’t force you to marry, but the time has come to think seriously about your prospects, do you hear?”
“I hear, Mama.”
“And you are going to Lady Wrenwood’s party tonight.”
A prickle went down Isolde’s spine. “Won’t Viscount Henley be there?”
“It’s possible,” Beatrice acknowledged. “Lord Wrenwoodwill likely not be in attendance – he’s known to avoid these things – but he is the viscount’s father, and Lady Wrenwood is his stepmother. But you are going, all the same. Show the Ton you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
