Page 80 of My Duke, The Stranger
“I wish that I could,” he sighed. “But promise that you will attend. Please, Your Grace.”
Isolde considered the situation the best that she could.
Common sense and self-doubt told her to temper her excitement. Likely, Cassian wished to keep up appearances, a means to lessen the rumors that would surely happen if they cancelled their attendance. Also, as she knew that Mr. Harwood was set to attend the drum, Cassian probably just wanted to be there to keep an eye on him.
Do not get your hopes up, Isolde. Not now…
But Mr. Pembroke’s words were impossible to ignore, as was the sincerity in which he spoke them. He truly believed that she had nothing to fear, and he looked at her as if he needed her to believe it also. Was it possible that she had been wrong? Was there a chance that Cassian did not hate her?
“As you say,” she said slowly and with caution. “Of course, if Cassian wants me there, I will attend. I owe him that much.”
Mr. Pembroke exhaled with relief. “This is not the end for you, Your Grace. And I swear that in days to come, we will look back on this past week and laugh.”
“I hope that is the case, Mr. Pembroke. You have no idea how much I do.”
Thirty-Three
This was a mistake. I should not be here. I should go…
Isolde stood in the corner of the drawing room, a glass of wine in her hand, held purely so that she wouldn’t fidget, but her posture was withdrawn, and she had an expression on her face that surely told the room how out of place she felt.
To make matters even worse, from the looks that everyone gave her, they thought that she was out of place, too. Worse still, they thought that she did not belong.
It had been like that since the moment she arrived at Lord Montague’s estate. Alone.
Cassian had not returned in time to leave with her. Mr. Pembroke assured her all evening, right until he closed the carriage door, that he would arrive as soon as possible, and that he wanted her there when he did. More than once, Isolde almostchanged her mind, and she just might have had Mr. Pembroke not been so insistent.
He knew something, and while he would not say what, she had to trust him.
When Isolde arrived at the manor, she saw immediately that her secret was out. While she was welcomed indoors without hesitation, led to the drawing room where the other two dozen guests were already gathered. From the moment she stepped into the room, the atmosphere changed.
“Ah, Your Grace.” Lord Montague was the first to welcome her. He was elderly and possessed of an uptight air that was common for men of the peerage. He kept his nose stuck in the air and his upper lip curled as he greeted her. “It is so wonderful to see you here this evening.”
“I am pleased to be here.” Isolde tried her best to remember all her training and to enforce it. She was still a duchess, and she had every right to be there. But in the face of his distaste, she wilted.
“I see you are alone,” he said as he looked past her. “Is His Grace not coming?”
“He is running late,” she said. “He will be here shortly.”
He raised an eyebrow in surprise. It looked as if he had something he wanted to say. But then a forced smile, done withthin lips, and he bid her inside. “Please, please, come in. For now, drinks are being served. Once everyone arrives, we shall begin the night in earnest.”
Isolde thanked him and wandered into the drawing room.
She looked at the other guests, all of whom stood in small groups together. All of whom turned to look at her, though none bothered to approach. In fact, she sensed immediately that they did not want her to, as if an invisible wall stood between herself and everyone else.
Mr. Harwood was there, and the moment she found his eyes, he smirked proudly. Then he leaned in and whispered to a lord he spoke with. They chuckled, shook their heads, and they both observed her as if she were a stray dog that had wandered inside.
This was a bad idea… What was I thinking?
So it was that Isolde found herself in the corner of the room, shrinking back, hiding in the shadows as if she might be forgotten.
There would be no forgetting her, however. As the minutes dragged, as the first hour passed by, she had no doubt that nearly every conversation in that room was about her. They all knew her secret, and they were each waiting for the right moment to expose it.
Isolde could only assume that when Cassian arrived, they would do so. But that just made her wonder what his goal was. Did he want her there so that he could denounce her in front of his peers? Would he stand up for her, even if it would ruin his reputation?
I suppose it all comes down to how he truly feels about me. A week ago, I might have believed he would be on my side. But now…
Finally, after a good hour of waiting, Cassian strode into the drawing room. When Isolde saw him, her emotions were as confused as the night in question.
