Page 49 of A Brilliant Match
“Lady Isabelle Shaw to see you, my lady.”
Dorothea’s heart began to thump. Had Miles confided in his mother about his proposal and her rejection? She hoped he had not. She would not like Lady Isabelle to think ill of her for having rejected her son, and she would surely do so if she knew.
She stood when Lady Isabelle walked through the door, thankful for once that her mother was never on time. She wished for a private interview, although she could not quite pinpoint why that was.
“Will you have a seat, my lady?”
“Thank you.”
Lady Isabelle came forward and sat on the chair nearest to Dorothea. Her dark hair held some gray in the temples, but otherwise she looked youthful—even more so than the last time they had met. She must have recovered from her tiring journey and difficulties at home.
Lady Isabelle assessed her with a kind smile for a brief moment then folded her hands on her lap. “You must be wondering what prompted me to pay a visit when we are so little acquainted.”
“I confess the thought did cross my mind.” Dorothea smiled, which ended in a nervous laugh. “But I wish to assure you that your visit is not an unwelcome one.”
The way Lady Isabelle regarded her looked so very much like Miles at that moment that Dorothea swallowed hard. Her heart should behave more sensibly than to act as though she missed him. It was more advisable to remain angry and to put an end to all further possibilities for a relationship. And yet, in absence of seeinghisface, her heart rejoiced in seeing one so closely related to him and with whom he shared such a likeness. The heart was a foolish organ.
“Well, I am generally one who comes straight to the point, so I have come to apologize to you.” Lady Isabelle lifted a hand when Dorothea opened her mouth to tell her such a thing was unnecessary.
“Please. Allow me to do so. I believe discussing our circumstances so openly must have been distasteful to you. You see, I have grown accustomed to frequenting a humbler set of people, where owning to some trouble seems to bring one closer, when the fact that I grew up the daughter of a London peer often makes a rift. I’ve found over the years since being married to Mr. Shaw that I was happiest with the other women of the village when I was speaking simply and without pretense.”
She gave a soft laugh. “I seem to have lost the art of dissembling required in London society.”
“I thank you for your forthright speech.” Dorothea gave her a fleeting smile, then knit her brows as she contemplated Lady Isabelle’s speech.
It hadn’t occurred to her that it would be as necessary to adjust one’s behavior when building friendships with women of more humble origins as it would with those of elevated ones. That Lady Isabelle did spoke well of her. Truly, Dorothea would rather have someone like Lady Isabelle as a model than a woman like Maryann Stanley. She decided to meet honesty with honesty.
“It did shock me a very little, I must own. But what you’ve said makes perfect sense, and I can only respect you for speaking so openly.”
Lady Isabelle dipped her head, looking almost shy. “I ask that you allow me a little more liberty. Miles has told me of your…friendship and the esteem he has for you.”
When Dorothea grew flushed, Lady Isabelle put up a hand. “Forgive me, this was more of my forthright speech. I do not mean to pry, I assure you. It is only that I hoped what I’d said has not been the source of any rift between you and Miles. I should not like to think that I have made him, or any friend of his, unhappy.”
She was uncomfortable, but she knew Lady Isabelle’s words came from a place of kindness. More than anything, she was struck by the fact that if Miles had indeed spoken of their friendship to his own mother, at least some of what he felt for her must be true.
“I assure you, there is no harm done,” she said softly. “I am sure Mr. Shaw and I will meet again soon. When we do, he may be assured of my continued friendship.”
I am glad to hear that.” Lady Isabelle turned from Dorothea as the door to the drawing room opened.
At last, Lady Poole, Sophia, and Camilla trailed in. Sophia darted a look of surprise at Dorothea. They had not heard the sounds of Lady Isabelle’s arrival. But Dorothea was glad for the time to have had this conversation with Lady Isabelle. It settled something in her heart that she had, until now, only vaguely allowed herself to acknowledge.
She had been just as ambitious as Miles had been. Only for her, it had been the ambition to secure a man with a title. What she had condemned in him, she had been guilty of. Yet he valued her enough to speak of her with his mother, and he had said he esteemed her. For the first time in days, rather than wishing to avoid him, she would not be opposed to a chance meeting.
Lady Isabelle stayed for a cup of tea, conversing easily with her sisters and drawing her mother out in a way Dorothea had rarely seen. When she left, no knock occurred to announce another visitor, and in the quiet of the drawing room, Sophia sent a bright smile to Dorothea.
“She is very kind. So much like her son.”
Dorothea nodded, still lost in her thoughts. Her mother filled her plate with two scones and reached for the teapot. Camilla leaned forward to take it from her and refilled her cup as Sophia adjusted the cushion behind Lady Poole. Their mother sat back and took a bite of her scone, and Dorothea could not help but look at her in surprise. Her mother had always been frail for as long as she could remember and scarcely ate what was on her plate, much less taking seconds.
“Lady Isabelle is indeed kind,” her mother said. “For all she may have slipped into poverty through her marriage, she is every inch the lady still. I should be glad to know her better.”
Lady Poole smiled at Dorothea, who could only stare back at her. Her mother had put together three sentences—volunteered an observation about someone else! And she did not look unhappy. What winds of change had swept through their drawing room?
* * *
It wasseveral days of going out to Society events, both in the afternoon and evening, before Dorothea saw Miles again. She knew they had not passed each other unnoticed, because everywhere she went, she found herself searching for that familiar swoop of hair—even if she firmly took herself to task afterwards for being so foolish.
When she perceived him at last, Dorothea was walking in Hyde Park in the company of Sophia and Camilla. Miles was in a carriage with one of his friends, arriving from the opposite direction when he spotted them.
