Page 9 of An offer from the Marquess (Necessary Arrangements 4)

Chapter 3

Arejection to Gage’s upcoming betrothal ball came early the next day. And then another, and another. Some even openly stated in their notes that they would not have their daughters associate with a fallen woman.

As it turned out, polite society was not so polite once one of its members fell from grace. Or just fell.

Nobody cared for the truth. Nobody had even seen Isabel and Vane outside of that ballroom except for the two dreadful old women who had tattled to everyone the inflated tale of what they thought they saw.

There was no explaining what had truly happened. There was no saving Isabel’s reputation. She had ruined the good name of her family by simply falling onto the wrong man.

If she had just accepted the dreadful marquess’s proposal, she could have avoided more scorn. But it was too late.

Was it too late?

Isabel tapped her foot nervously by her brother’s study. Richard and Adam were having a heated discussion about their uncertain future. They were arguing about what to do with Isabel since she was now unwelcome in most society homes.

Isabel knew what she wanted to do. She’d go to Sam’s house and hide away there for the rest of the season. The scandal would be forgotten by the next year, or at least, people would pretend to have forgotten about the unfortunate Lewis sister and would only whisper about it behind their fans.

Next year, everything would be better. Isabel would be leading the quiet, peaceful life she had always wanted, and her brothers would continue their political aspirations.

“The Marquess of Bainbridge sent a note,” Richard said, a little quieter.

“What? What does it say?”

“He rejects my suit. The bastard didn’t even have the guts to say it to my face. Coward.” There was a loud thump as if something had been thrown against the wall, or possibly Richard’s fist crashing onto his desk.

Isabel jumped.

Richard had just lost his bride. And it was all because of her. Isabel swallowed, turned, and quietly left the hall. She didn’t have the strength to look into her brothers’ eyes. She’d ruined everything.

Next year, everything will be better.But what about this year?

There was only one person who could fix everything. And if there was any way she could salvage the vestiges of their tattered reputations, she’d have to swallow her pride and beg him to do it.

* * *

Isabel stood on the doorstep of the loathsome Marquess of Vane’s house, cursing herself inwardly. She would have to scrounge up all her tact to have this dreadful conversation with the awful man. She took a deep breath for the third time and raised her hand to the knocker, only to freeze an inch from the door.

“Do you want me to do it, Miss?” her lady’s maid, Anthea, asked behind her.

“No, Anthea, I am quite capable of doing it myself,” Isabel said resolutely and then added in a barely audible whisper, “I think.”

She raised the knocker and let it fall, praying under her breath. Isabel was not certain what she was praying for. Patience, perhaps, to deal with the marquess and his enormous ego.

A thin, tall, graying old man opened the door and looked at Isabel down his long nose as if she were a bug he wanted to squash.

“Miss Isabel Lewis, for the Marquess of Vane,” she said.

The butler glanced around the street as if looking for someone. Then his gaze fell on Isabel’s maid, and he raised his brow. “I shall inquire whether his lordship is at home,” he said and closed the door in Isabel’s face.

Well, the butler was just as arrogant and rude as his master! Isabel dusted her skirt irritably. She was standing like a beggar or a wanton outside of a bachelor’s home. She doubted, however, that this trip would land her in a bigger scandal than the one she had already courted. Her brothers might scold her—wouldscold her—but she did not care. She was doing it for them.

The door opened a few moments later, and the butler stepped aside, letting her in.

“Thank you,” Isabel said with a tight smile.

She stepped into the hall and smoothed her skirts when loud footsteps—or rather a sound loud enough to qualify as the stomping of the bulls—descended from the stairs, echoing against the walls.

Isabel did not have time to look up before a huge, monstrous-looking animal tackled her to the floor. She squeaked before hitting the ground.

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