Page 11 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

Louisa smiled inwardly. She didn’t know about her own reputation because her scar garnered her sympathy from the majority of the ton.

“Trust me, all would be well,” she said, smiling at her sister reassuringly.

“What if—” Diana started.

“He will not report us. Do not worry.”

“Who won’t report you?” Isabella asked, entering the drawing room.

Oh God.Why now?

“The Duke of Colborne,” Diana answered.

“Why would he have reason to report you?” Isabella asked, pouring herself a cup of tea. “Is it because of the letter?”

“No,” Louisa uttered. She had truly hoped that no one but herself, Diana, and the carriage driver would know about theirvisitto the Duke’s townhouse, but alas it was not to be.

“Well?” Isabella prompted impatiently. “Will any of you tell me what happened?”

“We went to the Duke’s townhouse,” Louisa admitted.

“You did what?”

“I wanted to get the letter back before he could read it, but he caught me.”

“I literally have nothing to say,” Isabella scoffed, shaking her head. “I sincerely hope for your sake that he doesn’t report you.”

He would have to leave his house first.

Not for the first time since theirvisitto Colborne House, Louisa wondered what exactly happened to the handsome man who lived behind those dilapidated walls.

What happened to make him choose a life of solitude, content to haunt the walls of the old building?

What was it about the man that made him so mysterious and piqued her curiosity?

What was it about the man that made her long to get to know him, to understand what emotions swirled in his dark eyes?

She had cared little about much else apart from her family since her accident.

“So, is he a beast like the rumours say?” Isabella asked, forcing her to focus on the reality in front of her and the room she sat in.

“Who?”

“The Duke of Colborne,” Isabella huffed in a chastising tone.

“No, he wasn’t,” Louisa replied with a sigh, standing to return to her seat at the pianoforte.

“What did he look like? Does he have horrific scars? Is he deformed?” Isabella probed, curiosity getting the better of her.

“No, he doesn’t. On the contrary, he is quite… good-looking,” Louisa replied, keeping her voice carefully bland and arranging the sheet music to continue practicing on the pianoforte. A fast piece that challenged but intrigued her.

Just as her fingers hovered over the keys, ready to play, the door to the drawing room swung open and her mother strolled in.

“Louisa,” Lady Langham said shakily. “It appears that you have a visitor.”

Louisa’s eyes widened at the news as she watched her mother leave.

When she got to the door, Lady Langham turned around abruptly. “Remind me to never doubt your stories again,” she added awkwardly, before turning on her heels and stepping into the hallway.

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