“Oh. of course! Where are my manners? I am Lady Hodges, a close friend of His Grace’s late wife.”
His Grace’s late wife, of course.
“I see… well, it is a pleasure to make yer acquaintance,” Isla said, her voice barely a whisper.
“And I am Lady Mellors. It is quite brave of you, I must say,” the second lady chimed in. “To move from the rough charms of the Highlands straight into the formality of a ducal seat. Talk about rags to riches?”
“Lady Mellors, mind your tongue,” Lady Hodges said with a teasing tut in her voice. “You and your family hail from… oh, what is it called? Doggy Hall?”
“Dalrigh,” Isla said through gritted teeth, as she nearly snapped the champagne flute in her hand, not caring if she caused more scars.
“And with your… well, with your unique appearance, one might have expected you to prefer a more secluded life. You are so brave!”
The insult is perfectly cushioned, a backhanded compliment wrapped in a velvet glove.
Isla felt the heat return to her cheeks as she took another hasty sip of champagne. “I find that me upbringin’ has prepared me well for duty,” she said stiffly, not offering more fuel to their fire. “What I have been through in me life has well-prepared me for anythin’, least of all my current role.”
“Of course,” Lady Hodges said, her reddish-brown eyes glinting in the light of the candelabras around them. “Such a fiercely loyal nature is rare to find in an English wife.”
Isla’s composure was rapidly failing, and she looked around for a familiar face to no avail. Just as she opened her mouth to at least attempt a cutting but diplomatic reply, she was saved by a new arrival.
“Ladies,” a male voice interrupted, as polished and smooth as the finest china. The three women immediately turned, their sour expressions melting into admiration. “Most lovely to see you this evening!”
The man was handsome if not a bit plain, at least compared to the Duke. He looked like he was about Benedict’s age, with dark, angular, precise features and an air of entitled confidence that belonged only to the highest ranks. He was as tall as Isla, whichwas not to say he was short. She stood at almost five feet ten inches in her current footwear.
“It is a pleasure to see you as well, my lord!” Lady Hodges said with a bright smile. “I had hope we would find you here this evening as well. I think at the last ball we had a most interesting conversation of your travels to France!”
“An excellent memory, Lady Hodges. You do not miss a beat… but you must forgive me, I seem to have overlooked a new face there,” he said, turning his attention quickly to Isla. He offered a slight bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Harcourt Davis, Viscount Lamfort.”
Isla curtseyed, grateful for the interruption, and offered a wide smile. “Pleasure to make yer acquaintance, me lord. I am the Duchess of Ealdwick.”
“Ah, yes! It is such a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Grace,” he said, his eyes holding hers a moment longer than necessary. His smile was charming, but there was something oddly fixed behind his eyes. “I have heard much about your sudden arrival in London. Most intriguing.”
He casually dismissed the trio of ladies with a polite nod, angling his body around Isla to shield her from them.
“Your Grace, would you accompany me to the beverage table? I find the holiday punch Lady Featherstone has to be the only thing to cut through the heat of this season’s gossip… Even in spite of the cool December air.”
“I think you are quite right, me lord,” she said immediately, eager to escape the spiteful women. “A pleasure to meet ye ladies…” She called over her shoulder.
“I must confess… well, I am Cecilia’s cousin, you see,” the Viscount said as they walked.
“Cecilia?”
“Yes, the late Duchess…”
“Oh. Me goodness… I am so sorry for yer loss, me lord.”
“Please, do not fret. It was a long time ago now. All I wanted to say is, well it is a pleasure to finally meet the woman who has taken on that role for the family. Especially considering young Oliver.” He paused. “How fares the boy? He must be delighted to have a new mother.”
“He is a sensitive, intelligent child,” Isla replied, sticking to the basics. “We are both adjustin’ well to the arrangement, but I daenae pretend that I am his maither.”
Lamfort’s expression remained friendly, but Isla could perceive a sliver of coolness entering his eyes as he assessed her. “I am glad to hear it. He needs a steady hand, given his… affliction.”
Before Isla could respond to his incorrect phrasing, the music swelled, signaling the start of a waltz. Lamfort stopped short andturned toward her, his polished charm back in full force as he offered a wide smile.
“Your Grace,” he said, extending his hand. “I would be most delighted if you would join me in this dance. Would you allow me the honor?”
Chapter Fourteen
