Page 8 of The Duke and the Accidental Bride

As it turned out, His Grace had grossly oversold the evening.

There were four people seated in the dining room. At the head of the table was His Grace, as was expected. Isabella sat to his right. To his left was his mother, the Dowager Duchess of Fangsdale, and to her immediate left was her own mother, the Dowager Marchioness of Martell. And that was it!

The Dowager Duchess of Fangsdale was somewhere in her sixties, elegant and regal in the way that she held herself and how she dressed, but also stern and commanding and a little harsh... much like her son.

The Dowager Marchioness of Martell was the complete opposite. At least eighty, she was tiny, withered, and adorable to say theleast. A kindly old lady who sat there quietly, listening but saying little, her eyes shining with pride whenever she looked upon her grandson.

“It makes me think of the two of you,” the Duchess, His Grace’s mother, continued, ignoring the way her son glared at her. “Do we have here a love match? I would have to think that my son would not settle for anything less than perfection.”

“Mother, that is quite enough.”

“What did I say? Is it so wrong for a mother to wish the best for her son.” She turned her attention to Isabella. “You are a beauty, my dear, nobody is denying that...” Her eyes flicked over Isabella’s dress, and Isabella felt herself flushing pink with embarrassment.

What was I thinking with this dress!

“But beauty is not enough,” she continued. “My son, as I am sure you know, is smarter than he lets on. If he is to settle down, he requires an equal. Not a plaything who is good for little more than looking nice on his arm. Would you not agree?”

Isabella had to work overtime to stop her mouth from dropping. She had thought His Grace to be rude and to the point. But his mother was something else entirely!

Her leg began to shake under the table. That desire to say something – to defend herself. It was bubbling up inside of her, building, threatening to burst...

“I can assure you, Mother, that Miss Gouldsmith is more than my equal. And she is more than just aplaything. I did not court her by accident.”

“Oh, I know that,” she chuckled, again looking at Isabella’s dress. “I think we can all see exactly why you chose to court her.”

“Mother, that is enough.”

“What did I say! More than Miss Gouldsmith has tonight, that is for sure. Just do me a favor will you, Duncan? Although I am pleased that you are finally beginning to take your future seriously, make sure that the next one is a little more interesting. I know you, is why, and you’re likely to grow bored if you can’t find a lady who will challenge you.” She smirked across the table at Isabella. “No offence, dear.”

Isabella wanted to say nothing.

Oh, how she did.

She shut her mouth tight. She took a deep breath. She tried her best to keep the words contained but... but... but she had her limits, and they had well since been reached.

Smiling as if something funny was said, she looked at His Grace as if to apologize in advance. His eyes widened in warning but she shrugged and then turned back to the Duchess.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, I have not meant to be so silent this evening but when one loves their own voice as much as you so clearly do, I find it best to let them speak. Lest the hot air inside them builds up such that they end up exploding.”

The Duchess’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

Shockingly, His Grace chuckled. But he flashed his eyes in warning at her. “She is only making fun, Mother. Surely, you can appreciate --”

“And I can assure you that I am more than your son’s equal,” Isabella continued, feeling a surge of adrenaline pulse through her that she knew to be bad because when she felt that it tended to have her doing and saying things that she should not.”

“Is that right?” the Duchess said coldly.

“Would you expect anything less from your son?” Isabella laughed as if it was all in good fun. “Oh, I know he is a man of few words, but they are always the correct ones.” Feeling an impulse, she reached over and rested a hand on top of the Duke’s. He went stiff but did not remove it. “It was one of the many reasons that I fell in love with him.”

“In love?” the Duchess cocked an eyebrow.

Isabella suppressed the urge to gasp, not having meant to say that. “Of course,” she said.Dammit, why am I so stubborn!“I get the sense that I am the first woman your son has brought to meet you, perhaps ever. Why would he do such a thing if not for love?”

“I think that is enough for one evening.” His Grace pulled his hand free and pushed his chair back. “Miss Gouldsmith, if you and I might --”

“I think you speak too quickly, dear,” the Duchess said. She looked right at Isabella as if to provoke her... or dare her into continuing. “To speak of love as you are. You may think that you are special, but if my son thought as much of you as you claim, then he would have told me long ago. I am sorry to say.”

“He was just being careful,” Isabella shot back, matching her stare.

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