Page 24 of His Scarred Duchess
For a moment, it seemed as though Lord Brenton might continue his tirade. But then he sighed, the anger seeming to drain out of him, replaced by a weariness that made him look older than his years.
“It’s not just about me, Adeline,” he said, his voice softer now. “Have you considered how your behavior might affect your sister’s prospects? Isabella’s debut is just around the corner.We can’t afford any scandals or whispers that might hurt her chances.”
And there it was. The real reason for his anger, laid bare. Adeline felt a familiar ache in her chest, a mix of resentment and guilt that had become her constant companion these past years.
“Of course, Father,” she replied, her voice flat. “Heaven forbid anything should mar Isabella’s perfect debut.”
Lord Brenton’s eyes narrowed at her tone. “Your sarcasm is neither appreciated nor becoming, Adeline. I would have thought you’d be more concerned for your sister’s welfare.”
Adeline turned back to the window, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “I am concerned for Isabella. More than you know.”
The rest of the journey passed in stony silence. Adeline’s mind, however, was far from quiet. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts kept drifting back to the garden, to the mysterious stranger who had both vexed and intrigued her.
His gray eyes, sparkling with amusement and something deeper she couldn’t quite name. The way he’d come to her aid without hesitation, despite her less-than-gracious behavior. The warmth of his hand on her arm as he’d guided her to safety…
Adeline shook her head, banishing the traitorous thoughts. It was foolish to dwell on such things. She would likely never seethe man again, and even if she did, what did it matter? In a matter of weeks, she would be off to Scotland, far from the glittering ballrooms of London and the judgmental eyes of theton.
And yet, a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder. What if…
The carriage came to a stop outside their townhouse, jolting her out of her reverie. Without waiting for the footman, Lord Brenton flung open the door and stepped out, his movements sharp with lingering irritation.
“I trust you can make it to your room without causing any further scenes,” he said, his voice clipped. “Goodnight, Adeline.”
Before Adeline could respond, he had turned on his heel and strode into the house, leaving her alone in the carriage. She took a moment to compose herself, drawing in a deep breath and willing away the tears that pricked the corners of her eyes.
Finally, she stepped out, nodding her thanks to the patiently waiting footman. As she entered the house, the quiet enveloped her like a comforting blanket. Here, at least, she could escape the critical gazes and whispered comments that had dogged her all evening.
Adeline had just reached the door of her bedchamber when a soft voice called out to her.
“Adeline? Is that you?”
She turned to see Isabella peering out from her room, her golden hair loose around her shoulders and her eyes bright with curiosity.
“Isabella,” Adeline sighed, managing a small smile for her sister. “What are you doing awake at this hour?”
Isabella slipped out of her room, padding down the hallway in her nightgown and her stockings. Her eyes widened as they fell on Adeline’s gown. “I couldn’t sleep, but—goodness, Adeline! What happened to your dress?”
Adeline glanced down, wincing at the sight of the large punch stain. She’d almost forgotten about it in the tumult of the evening.
“Oh, it was just a small accident,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Nothing to worry about.”
Isabella frowned, clearly not convinced. “An accident? It looks more like someone threw a full glass at you.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Was it terribly awful? Did you at least get to dance with any handsome gentlemen before… whatever this was happened?”
For a moment, Adeline was tempted to tell her sister everything—the humiliation, the argument with their father, and yes, her encounter with the intriguing stranger in the garden. But looking at Isabella’s eager face, so full of hope and excitement for her upcoming debut, Adeline couldn’t bring herself to tarnish that innocence.
“It was an eventful evening,” she said instead, opening her door and ushering Isabella inside. “But surely not as exciting as whatever romantic novel you’ve no doubt been reading, instead of sleeping.”
Isabella giggled, flopping down onto Adeline’s bed with ease. “Oh, but real life is so much more thrilling than novels! Come on, Adeline, you must tell me everything. I’m positively dying of curiosity!”
As Adeline carefully removed her jewelry, she couldn’t help but smile at her sister’s enthusiasm.
“Very well,” she said, turning to face Isabella. “But I warn you, the exciting life of a spinster may be too much for your delicate sensibilities to bear.”
She settled onto the bed beside her sister, arranging her stained skirts as best as she could.
“Well, let’s see. Lady Windhurst’s ballroom was absolutely resplendent. Crystal chandeliers, flowers everywhere, and the music was divine.”
Isabella’s eyes shone with excitement. “And the gowns? Oh, do tell me about the gowns!”
