Page 57 of The Duke and the Accidental Bride

Chapter Nineteen

“Ow!” Isabella yelped as she sat down.

“What? What’s wrong?” Louisa asked.

“Nothing...” Isabella chuckled nervously as she adjusted herself on the seat, careful not to hit one of the many bruises that covered her behind. She was still getting used to that. “I just pinched myself, is all.”

“Perhaps hoping you might wake up from a nightmare,” Louisa noted. “No doubt you have been pinching yourself every hour on the hour this week. Sorry to say, Isabella, but this is the reality.”

Replace the word pinching with spanking and you might not be as far off as you think.

Isabella could not stop herself from smirking. “And why do you say that?”

“Isabella...” Louisa sighed and shook her head. “You do not have to pretend with me -- I am surprised you are even bothering to. I thought you said that His Grace was out of the day?” Louisa turned about and looked throughout the back garden, as if expecting Duncan to pop up suddenly. “Worried one of the staff might tell on you?”

“Oh...” Isabella chuckled. “I see what you are you saying. And no, no, do not fear. His Grace does not have me in such a state that I am worried to speak out again him. Quite the opposite in fact,” she added with a coy smile as her mind flashed to earlier this morning when --

No, no. Do not go there. Not while your sister sits across from you.

“Oh no.” Louisa clicked her tongue. “It is even worse than I thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was wondering why I had not heard from you all week – since the Mayfield Ball. And if you remember well, when you and His Grace left, you had murder written all over your face.”

Isabella frowned as she tried to remember. “What are you...?”

“Lady St. Vincent,” Louisa explained. “And your husband’s rather, forgive me for saying, lack of respect, regarding how he behaved in front of you that evening.” A shake of the head andanother dismissive sigh. “Let me guess. The moment the two of you arrived home, you went at it like a couple of alley cats trapped inside a rucksack together and based on how...” Louisa looked Isabella over, her lips tightening with worry. “... horrid you look, the two of you have not stopped. Tell me I am wrong. Please.”

Isabella almost laughed. “Is that what you think?”

“What else could I possible think!” Louisa cried. “A week now you have been in hiding and when I do come to see you, not only is His Grace out but, and forgive me for saying, you look as if you have not slept in days, Isabella.” Worry took her expression, and she shuffled in closer, dropping her voice. “If something is the matter, you know that you can tell me anything. As insistent as mother was in seeing this marriage go through, even she would not stand by if she thought that His Grace was...” She swallowed.

“Was what?”

Another glance about the empty garden and her voice dropped even further. “Hitting you. Now, is he? Because if he is...” She trailed off nervously, her body shaking with worry.

And again, Isabella very nearly laughed.

Louisa’s visit this morning had surprised Isabella, for it was unannounced. In fact, Isabella had just finished saying goodbye to the Duke – in the ways that they had both become accustomed to -- barely having time to throw on a dress before rushing downstairs to greet her sister who had stood idly in the foyer, alook on her face that spoke to the fear she must have been feeling for Isabella’s safety.

One look at Isabella’s state and that fear exploded. Isabella’s hair was a mess. She had no make-up on. Her dress was crumpled, for it was the same she had worn the previous night. Her skin was washed out from dehydration. And that wasn’t to mention the bruises on her lower neck and wrists.

It was no wonder Louisa was terrified.

“Louisa...” Isabella reached out and took her sister by the hand. They were sitting on a picnic blanket, under an oak tree, shaded from the sun, but her sister’s skin was flushed warm from worry. “I can assure you that you could not be further from the truth.”

“Do not lie to me! Do not feel that you have to!”

“I am not lying,” Isabella said, squeezing her by the hand and meeting her eyes. “His Grace and I are...” She bit into her lip as she considered what to say. “Despite everything, and as shocking as it might sound, we are doing rather well together. Better than that, in fact.”

“Really?” Louisa leaned back and blinked.

“It has been a strange week.” Isabella spoke carefully, and was certain not to let her mind wander because she did not need to allude too closely to what the cause for such a week had been. “But following the Mayfield Ball, His Grace and I spoke openlyfor the first time, and as unbelievable as it might sound...” She made sure to smile so that her sister would not think that she was lying. “We have come to an understanding that has, dare I say, threatened to save this marriage.”

“An understanding?” Louisa frowned. “What sort of understanding?”

“Oh...” Isabella shrugged and looked away as she felt her cheeks begin to flush. “I will not bore you with the details. Just husband and wife stuff.”

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