Page 8 of The Duke of Aces
“On the condition that Minerva and Lady Charlotte join us.”
It was his turn to be shocked. He hadn’t expected her to agree. Arriving at a public event together along with family was nearly as effective as having the banns read at church—nearly. Before she could change her mind, Tom said, “I shall have it arranged. The invitation shall be on your family salver no later than this afternoon.”
The coach rolled to a stop. He prayed his driver, trained to deliver him with discretion, had the foresight to stop in the back ally a few blocks away from the Malbury residence.
Lady Isadora’s maid scooted forward and peered through the carriage window before hopping out. With a curt nod, Lady Isadora followed her maid and slammed the door shut in his face. It was apparent the woman was quite independent. Another excellent quality to possess if she was to become his wife. Those that were faint of heart would not be well suited to the role of spouse to a Crown spy. Tom pulled back the curtain as the coach began to move once more. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as both Lady Isadora and her maid rounded the corner and marched up the path that led to her home. The pair proceeded as if nothing was amiss, and they were simply out for a stroll.
Tom reached beneath his seat and pulled out his collapsible writing desk. It was an item he had learned long ago never to travel without. Pen and parchment in hand, he drafted the invitation to attend the races within moments. Signing the missive in a flourish, Tom rapped on the ceiling of the coach to bring it to a halt. His loyal footman opened the door at the ready.
Tom handed the man the missive. “This needs to be delivered before Lady Isadora crosses the threshold of the Malbury residence.”
His footman snatched the parchment and ran. The man was fleet of foot, and Tom sat back and grinned. Would the lady be impressed with his feat to have the invite delivered before she arrived home? He certainly hoped so. Tom rose and fell back into the space Lady Isadora had occupied on the forward-facing seat. The faint scent of lilac had him closing his eyes, allowing his imagination to picture the shock upon Lady Isadora’s face.
Chapter Four
Three more steps.
Mr. Morton, the family butler, held open the front door with a sardonic arch of an eyebrow. He knew she was prolonging the inevitable.
Shivering slightly behind Isadora, Annie said, “Me hands are freezing, me lady. Let’s stop dawdling and go in.”
Her maid waited for a moment before giving Isadora a nudge in the back. The brief touch had Isadora’s muscles tensing.
Annie shuffled her feet and whispered, “I apologize, me lady. May we please go in?”
Isadora wasn’t ready to face her older sister. Not until she could banish the image of the Duke of Avondale’s lips upon her gloved hand. She squeezed her hands together tightly behind her back, gaining some feeling in her own cold fingers before stepping inside.
Mr. Morton promptly closed the front door behind them. The butler took Isadora’s outer garments and passed them to a footman nearby. “Lady Minerva requests your presence in the drawing room.” With precise clipped movements, Mr. Morton stepped around her and led her down the hall to what she had no doubt would be an inquisition.
It wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by Minerva or the staff that she and Annie had set off at dawn. Unlike her siblings, she enjoyed the whirl of the Season and loved being in Town, where the possibilities for adventure were endless. On Mr. Morton’s heels, Isadora pondered over how she was going to hide the purpose of her early morning escapade from Minerva. Her sister knew her better than any other, and she was tenacious when solving the unknown. Thankfully, Minerva wasn’t one to draw her own conclusions before asking for information first.
As Mr. Morton reached for the door, Isadora asked, “How long has my sister been waiting?”
Mr. Morton broke his own rules and gave her a lopsided smile. “Not long, mayhap a quarter-hour.” He pushed open the door with his usual calm demeanor and announced, “Lady Isadora.” What had prompted Mr. Morton’s peculiar behavior? While unusual, it was also reassuring to find she wasn’t the only one finding herself acting out of character.
“My thanks, Mr. Morton.” Minerva’s gaze focused behind Isadora. “Annie, please fetch us some tea.”
Once the staff had scurried to do her sister’s bidding and out of earshot, Minerva added, “And Isadora…you may close the door.”
“What is it you wished to see me about?”
Minerva waved a bright white signature card in front of her. “I didn’t push for an explanation as to how we received the invite to attend Avondale’s house party, and I don’t care to rehash the matter. However, I will demand you explain why we are to attend Lord Derby’s race tomorrow.”
Isadora frowned. How in the blazes had Avondale managed to have the invitation arrive before her? Gathering her wits, she met her sister’s glare. “Lady Charlotte and I have become quite close. Mayhap the invitation was at the duke’s sister’s prompting.”
“Why are you lying to me?” Minerva placed the parchment on the side table. “Sister, please come closer and share with me the truth this time.”
“I can’t.”
“Why is that?” Her sister patted the empty space on the settee next to her. “Is it because you made a pledge that prevents you from sharing the truth with your own sister?”
Isadora walked over to the settee and sat. “You know?” Isadora shouldn’t have been surprised. Minerva was extremely observant.
“Aye. I know all about the Wicked Ladies Salon.” Minerva reached for Isadora’s hand. “You can’t be shocked. Did you really believe I’d simply overlook your covert disappearances over the past Season?”
Her sister’s warm hand squeezed Isadora’s, easing her guilt and nerves. Minerva was more mother than sister at times, and until today, had been the only person Isadora did not retreat from. Isadora dropped her gaze to their hands. “You never mentioned it or questioned me.”
“It cost me a fair sum and a number of boons to gather the details necessary for me to piece it all together. And last Season, I spent a substantial portion of my pin money and the portion of your allowance that I’d managed to procure from you, on protecting your secret from other interested parties.”
