Nora pouted but still stood when Cecil did, taking his hand and following him out of the fort. Richard watched them leave, and once they were out, he shifted his attention to Isobel.
“Shall we, Miss Wightman?” he offered his hand to her.
Isobel hesitated, then placed her hand in his, her skin warming up as they made contact, despite both of them wearing gloves. He tugged her to her feet easily and led her out, then they all walked together into the house.
“Get something warm to drink and then sit by the fireplace for a bit, all right?” Richard urged once they were inside.
“Are you not coming with us, Your Grace?” Cecil enquired, wrapping an arm around Nora’s shoulders to keep her from leaving without him.
The duke glanced at Isobel, who felt caught for some reason, then he shifted his gaze back to the children and smiled.
“Perhaps another time. I have some affairs I must put in order right away.”
Isobel wondered if it had anything to do with the woman he had chosen to be his betrothed, and winced at the sharp twinge of pain in her chest.
The children nodded and bowed to him politely before walking away. Isobel wanted to go with them, in dire need of a cup of tea in hopes that it would not only warm her up but clear her mind as well. But she found it difficult to leave the duke’s presence, wishing she could go back to when it was just them.
Before she had become privy to the information that had come her way.
It was as though her reluctance was clearly written on her face, because Richard took her hand, raised it to his lips, and fixed his gaze on hers as he pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“I will see you at dinner, Miss Wightman.”
If she had felt perturbed before, her heart was now restlessly attempting to beat out of her chest. Words failed her hopelessly, and all she could manage was a single nod.
Richard nodded back and took his leave, unfortunately taking his warmth along with him.
Isobel stood there for what felt like minutes and hours before she remembered to go after her siblings, her cheeks burning all the while.
Dinner was an energetic affair that night.
It seemed as though everyone was in good spirits, with conversations flowing animatedly as delicious meals were devoured in earnest. With the growing chill in the air, it was truly wonderful to be in a warm room surrounded by people who were just as merry as they were kind.
Many came to enquire about Valerie’s well-being, reminding her that the wedding was only a few days away – as though she would have forgotten somehow between the other reminders consistently delivered each day. Some held her hands and prayed that her married days would be filled with peace and love, and others hoped that she would be happy and healthy with her husband.
While Isobel had learned to simply play the role of her sister publicly, there was a strange feeling tonight as she accepted each blessing on behalf of her sister.
Although she had long since given up on the idea of being a bride and had accepted her fate, something about the day's events mixed with the role she had been tasked to play left a rather sour note on her tongue.
Still, she braved through it, managing to get through dinner and retiring without incident. Strangely, Deborah was absent, and Isobel felt thankful for it, not sure she would have the strength to dismiss her questioning efforts.
She did, Bridget, on her way back to her room, and thought it polite to enquire about her aunt.
“She claimed she was rather tired from the day’s activities. The older one gets, the less inclined they feel to make every gathering a mandatory attendance. Although that is the same for me – I’d rather retire early than listen to one more person drone on and on about how perfect you are and how your marriage is the greatest occurrence in the history of the family.” Her cousin told her with a sneer.
Isobel nearly agreed, feeling just as worn out herself. She did not understand why Bridget did not like Valerie, and she did not want to encourage such intense vitriol against her sister. But she was getting tired of living a life that wasn’t hers – even more so receiving accolades and praises for an achievement she might never obtain.
“Why did you come, then? You could have chosen not to attend. Sure, whatever else you wished to spend your time on would have been more ideal than facing someone you dislike andpandering to her excitement like this.” Isobel couldn’t help but say.
Bridget looked shocked to be scolded so directly, and she glared at Isobel.
“What do you think others might make of me if I did that? Do you wish for me to appear to be some old shrew? It was a family affair, and my family wished to make an appearance. Additionally, it has not been as… dull as I thought it might be.” She sniffed and walked away shortly after speaking.
Isobel wondered what she meant, then surmised that she was too tired to give more thought to someone who clearly held a disdain for her.
But when she retired for the night, she found it hard to fall asleep. No matter how hard she tried, her mind was far too occupied with thoughts she couldn’t ignore.
Her body felt as though it was aflame, as she clearly recalled each touch and kiss from Richard. Isobel felt strange, wondering how she had lived most of her life without wanting to feel the touch of a man, and now craving it.
