Page 18 of The Duke's Scandal
The sound of her laughter mingling with his made Amos’ heart twist. It was such a beautiful sound, and his interest in her grew in an instant. No longer could he hold himself back, nor did hewishto hold himself back from her. If there was an interest there – and there most certainly was – then why did he need to worry what society might think of him calling upon her to take tea?
“Lady Isobella,” he began, stopping in his walk and turning to look at her. “I was wondering if you would permit me to call upon you one afternoon.”
The smile on her face instantly disappeared, the light in her eyes fading to shadow. There was no immediate smile,no blush darkening her cheeks. Instead – and much to his confusion and doubt – she appeared upset at his remark, given the way she turned her gaze from his, her eyebrows lowering.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace! Lady Isobella, good afternoon to you also!”
Before she could answer him, before anything more could be said, a gentleman strode towards them across the grass, his eyes fixed on Lady Isobella.
“I see that you are both enjoying a walk,” Lord Preston said although his gaze was fixed to the lady instead of turning to them both. “A fine day for it, I quite agree!”
Amos cleared his throat, wondering how he might tell Lord Preston that he was interrupting the conversation between himself and the lady, only for Lady Isobella to speak and interrupt him.
“It is, yes,” she said, removing her hand from his arm entirely. “I was, however, about to return to my sister in law, for we will soon have to make our way back to the house in preparation for this evening.”
“And what occasion is it that you are attending?” Lord Preston wanted to know, shifting his stance slightly so that he looked away from Amos and towards Lady Isobella instead. “Might I be fortunate enough to be attending the very same one, I wonder?”
When she smiled, Amos noticed there was no brightness in her expression, no warmth there any longer. His question about calling upon her appeared to have brought about more shadow than sunshine.
“It is the Marquess of Devon’s ball,” she said, as Lord Preston let out a loud exclamation. “I have heard it is always an exceptional evening.”
“You have heard correctly!” Lord Preston said,enthusiasm in every word. “Then I shall make certain to find you there and sign my name to one of your dances, of course.”
Her smile did not linger. “You are very kind, Lord Preston.”
“I shall return you now to Lady Granville,” Amos interjected, aware that he was bringing a sharp end to the conversation between them but, at the very same time, disliking just how forward Lord Preston had been to not only interrupt them but speak only to Lady Isobella thereafter! “Do excuse us, Lord Preston.”
The lady smiled briefly and then, much to Amos’ relief, took his arm again. They walked in silence, a tension there that had not been there before. Amos could not understand it, wondering what it was he had done that had shattered the growing connection between them both.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” As they drew near to Lady Granville, Lady Isobella stopped and then took her hand from his arm. “I enjoyed walking with you today.”
The question on his mind, the one hewantedto ask her, stayed firmly behind his lips.
“Am I to see you this evening?” she ventured, looking up at him and then away just as quickly. “Are you to attend the ball?”
“I am, yes.” Taking a breath, he pressed his lips together and then smiled. “If I might be as bold as Lord Preston, would I also be able to sign your dance card?”
“But of course.” The answer came quickly enough, but there was no expression of happiness on her face, no enthusiasm in her response. “Thank you, Your Grace. Good afternoon.”
Amos watched her as she walked away, seeing Lady Granville smile at her and then look towards him. With a nod, he turned on his heel and made his way directly backtowards his carriage, having no interest in lingering here any longer. For whatever reason, asking to call upon her had broken their connection apart, seeming to upset her instead of pleasing her. Scowling, Amos rubbed one hand over his face as he walked, ignoring every other gentleman and lady in the park. What had he done that would make the thought of him coming to call so very dreadful? And why, he considered, did he feel her rejection so very painfully?
Chapter Nine
Isobella looked across the ballroom, her mind filled with the question the Duke of Exeter had asked her earlier that day. The other bluestockings were all talking and laughing around her, but she did not join them, too distracted to even think about what they were saying. The Duke’s question, his desire to call on her, had frightened her.
It was a strange reaction, she considered, her gaze lingering on nothing at all, drifting here and there as she thought. A gentleman seeking to call upon a lady was just what was expected, she knew, but when he had asked to do that very thing, she had been near frozen with fright.
“Isobella?”
She started violently as Lady Amelia put a hand on her arm. “Oh, forgive me.” Closing her eyes, she smiled weakly. “I was lost in thought.”
“About the Duke?” Lady Amelia gave her a knowing smile. “Lady Rosalyn told me that she had left you to walk with him.”
“Yes, she did.”
Lady Amelia studied her for a moment or two. “She meant well. She does not know about your previous struggles.”
“I am not angry with her for that,” Isobella assured her. “Not at all.”
