Page 12 of One Night of Surrender
It suddenly occurred to Isabelle what Lady Viola had just said,Ask my brother.Did she think they were familiar?Worse, did sheknowthey’dbeenfamiliar?
Isabelle wanted to make it clear they were not.“I’m afraid I don’t really know His Grace.I don’t have much occasion to speak with him.”
“I suppose you don’t.Pity, he’s rather amusing.When he’s not arrogant.Actually, sometimes he’s amusingly arrogant.”
Isabelle laughed before she could stop herself.It was an absolutely apt description, or at least it had been ten years ago.It seemed Val hadn’t changed very much.Recovering, Isabelle said, “I didn’t mean to laugh.You’ve simply painted an…amusingpicture.”
“Do you have siblings, Mrs.Cortland?”
Isabelle shook her head.“I do not.You make me regret that.”
“If you were to spend time with me and Val—His Grace,” she said the latter with an exceedingly pompous air, “you may change your mind.We can be rather terrible to each other.But only because we find the other insufferable.”She said this with such cheer that Isabelle smiled.
“I don’t believe you.It sounds as if you love each other very much.”Isabelle also knew that to be true because Val had told her.He’d taken special care to look after his younger sister, especially after their mother had died while he was at Oxford.
“Perish that notion at once, if you please.If Val ever learned someone cared that deeply for him, his head would swell to five times its already gargantuan size.”She glanced toward the counter, where the dowager was seated just in time for the older woman to purse her lips in their direction.
With an apologetic sigh, Lady Viola begged Isabelle to excuse her for a moment, then took herself to the other side of the shop, where her grandmother sat perusing fabric.Isabelle watched Beatrice and Caroline as they investigated every single garment in the box.They’d utterly abandoned their restraint and now chattered about the fabrics and the trimmings and how they longed to have such finery.
“Someday we will,” Beatrice said firmly.“Mother says I may marry a duke.”
“The only duke we’ve met is His Grace, and he’s old.”Caroline made a face.
“I haven’t metmyduke yet, silly.I haven’t even come out.Anyway, His Grace isn’tthatold, and he’s rather handsome, don’t you agree?”At Caroline’s look of horror, Beatrice rolled her eyes.“Of course you don’t.You’re only ten and you haven’t yet realized…never mind.”
Caroline sent her a saucy glance.“That boys—and that includes dukes—are boors?I’ve known that forever.It’s you who haven’t worked it out.”
Isabelle was torn between laughing at Caroline’s combination of naïveté and insight and recoiling at Beatrice’s description of Val as handsome.She was far too young to think that, and regardless of what she said, hewastoo old for her.
Nonsense, your father was fourteen years older than your mother, and Val is only sixteen older than Beatrice.
Nevertheless, the thought of such a union made Isabelle ill.
Is that because of the age difference or because he’s Val and you’ve always wanted him for yourself?
There she went asking herself questions again!Isabelle looked toward the counter and saw that the dowager and Lady Viola had finished.The younger woman was helping the older to her feet, then took her arm and guided her toward the door.Lady Viola then exchanged a look with Isabelle, who nodded in response.
“Time to go, girls,” Isabelle said.
“Will we get to do any actual shopping?”Beatrice asked with a touch of whine to her tone.“Or did we just come to watch them shop?”She sent a disgruntled look toward the dowager’s and Lady Viola’s backs as they exited the shop.
“You will get to shop.”Isabelle had no idea if that were true, but she was going to do her best to ensure they did.The purse Lord Barkley had given her weighted the pocket of her cloak.
Thankfully, the next stop was a shop where the girls picked out ribbons, and the dowager surprised them all by having it added to her account.“You girls are very well behaved.That is a testament to your governess.”The dowager gave Isabelle an approving look.
When they were back in the coach, the dowager asked the girls what they liked to study.
“I like history,” Beatrice said.
“I like languages,” Caroline said eagerly.“And mathematics.And science.”
The dowager looked at Isabelle, a slender gray brow arching.“You teach them science?”
“A bit.Some geology, biology, and astronomy.”
Beatrice smiled.“I do love astronomy.”
“You are exceedingly well educated,” the dowager said to Isabelle.“It’s no wonder you’re a governess.And yet you are a missus, so I must assume you were wed?”
