Page 20 of The Duke of Aces
Mr. Morton shook his head and patted his free white-gloved hand over his heart.
Blast Drake to hell. If Drake wasn’t prepared to do the honorable thing and challenge Minerva to a game of chess this Season, for her sister had a standing agreement that any man that beat her at the game would win her hand in marriage. Isadora would have to devise a way to protect Minerva from further heartache. Tom’s image floated before her. To date, Minerva’s only reprieve from Drake had been the time they had spent at Avondale. A two-week house party free of Drake and Mansville’s presence, Isadora had witnessed glimpses of Minerva’s former self, a lady full of energy and optimism. If she were to marry the duke, Minerva could come live with them and be free of her tormentors again. Could she sacrifice her freedoms for her sister?
Mr. Morton cleared his throat, pulling Isadora from her thoughts. She picked up her skirts and ran up the stairs. Minerva hated to be kept waiting.
Isadora pushed open her sister’s door and halted.
Minerva paced about without the slightest limp. In addition, Minerva had changed out of her pale-yellow day dress and was garbed in a deep red gown that was still rather risqué for a lady three years out.
“Sister, mine, I was told you had suffered an injury.” Isadora stepped through the threshold into Minerva’s chambers and closed the door behind her.
Her sister continued to stride back and forth at the foot of her bed. “I’m perfectly hale as you can see.” Minerva paused momentarily and asked, “What was the outcome of the race?”
“Tom… I mean His Grace won the wager.” Blast. Isadora braced herself for Minerva’s reprimand for referring to the duke with such familiarity.
It only took two steps, and Minerva was toe-to-toe with Isadora. Her sister rose slightly onto the balls of her feet so that they were eye-to-eye. It required all of her willpower not to lower her gaze or take a step back.
Minerva finally asked, “Has His Grace given you leave to call him by his given name?”
“He did.”
Minerva’s lips curved into a broad grin. “However, I’ve only given myself leave to do so in my head and well…with you…and only in private.”
“And what were the stakes of today’s event?”
Thankful it was an easy question, Isadora’s shoulders relaxed. “Wembly Hall goes to the person who wins best of four events.”
“And?” Minerva quit her pacing and tapped her foot, waiting for Isadora to continue.
“And what?” Isadora wasn’t ready to share the side wager with Minerva. However, with just the two of them standing in the room, she struggled to withhold the information that played havoc with both her mind and her heart.
“I’ve given it more thought. Weighed the possibilities. His Grace is a renowned gambler. Now tell me, what else is at stake?” Minerva resumed tapping her foot as she waited for a reply.
There was no way to fool her sister. Minerva knew every single tell Isadora possessed. Isadora sighed. “A courtship of sorts.” She stepped back and bumped into the foot of the bed. Giving into temptation, Isadora let herself flop onto the bed. “No need to lecture me. I know I shouldn’t have agreed to the terms but…” She sat up and with a surge of courage as she confessed, “When Tom is close by, it’s as if my mind goes blank and my body comes alive. It’s what I suspect you encounter when Drake is close.”
Her sister shook her head and pinned Isadora with a steely stare. “Pray explain what you mean by a courtship of sorts.”
“The duke is to escort me to four events over the course of the Season. Of course, his singular attention will set tongues a-wagging.” Isadora rolled back and looked up at the blue and gold canopy. “It may well fare in my favor. Many courtships do not result in marriage. Having the duke’s attention may well dissuade other potential suitors.”
Minerva’s foot tapping ceased. Isadora waited for Minerva to begin her lecture on the risks of giving preference to the duke. When Minerva flopped onto the bed next to her, Isadora turned to see her sister place her hands behind her head.
Her sister sighed and closed her eyes. “Despite all the heartache the man has caused me, you are correct, all rational thoughts flee my mind when I’m within ten feet of Drake.”
Isadora frowned at Minerva’s profile. How extremely peculiar. Normally, once her sister dismissed a topic, it was not to be addressed again. Except, Minerva was lying next to her relaxed and sharing emotions Minerva never hinted at experiencing.
“I shall not enter a marriage like our parents, and neither shall you. The inequity of love only makes one bitter. Mama is living proof.” Minerva brought her arms down and crossed them over her chest. “I’d rather be put on the self, die a spinster than enter a loveless marriage. As for you, sister, if His Grace sets your heart aflutter, why not discover if he might share such feelings?”
For once Isadora was one step ahead of her sister. “I discovered today, Tom’s heart races every time we touch, his eyes darken when he stares at me, and his brow crinkles when I share my thoughts. He appreciates my intellect, and that’s what makes me giddy the most.”
Minerva turned to gaze at her. “Physical attraction is not the same as love.”
“I know this.” Thoughts of Tom made her restless. “Do you think it is possible for someone to grow to love another?”
“Is it a possibility…absolutely. Is it likely… no.” Minerva sat up and asked, “Would you agree to marry the duke if during your four outings he exhibited signs he might learn to love you?”
Isadora sat up and slid off the bed, then walked over to the window to gain some space. She could sense her sister was formulating a plan. “Mayhap, however, I won’t marry before you.”
“Why?”
