Harry would like to think not, but he knew he would probably not be right.
Still, a lady like that to throw herself away on such a fellow! It could not be right.
Finally, the duke had risen and they made their way to the drawing room.
Miss Rightstone was at the tea tray with a plate of biscuits. He now knew but did not care that her favorite was almond.
Lady Isabel had just been directed to the pianoforte by the duchess. He made his way there under the glares of Miss Rightstone and her mama.
“Lady Isabel,” he said, as she sat down on the bench, “might you allow me to turn your pages?”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Vance,” she said, failing to meet his eye.
He did not take her acquiescence as any ringing endorsement, as it would have been hard for a lady to refuse such a request. But he would take it all the same.
She had chosen a gentle sonata. As she played, she said softly, “What a magnificent instrument.”
“Do you have one like it at home?” Harry asked, certain that she did or she could not play so well.
He felt, by her expression, that he had in some way embarrassed her.
She’d paused when considering the question. Then she’d said, “Nothing even approaching what this is. My own is very old and always out of tune.”
He laughed. “What neighborhood is this that does not have a tuning man somewhere about the place?” he asked.
Again, it seemed he’d somehow gone astray, though he could not imagine how.
After a full minute of silence, he was on the verge of apologizing though he did not know for what.
Lady Isabel finally broke the silence. “I come from Hertfordshire, nearby Watford. But perhaps I ought to be direct, Mr. Vance, as I do not believe my circumstances will remain unknown. My father’s estate is in a very bad way and there has not been the opportunity to accommodate any luxuries.”
How stupid of him. She was from Bertridge’s neighborhood in Hertfordshire, the man had said so. Bertridge had also said the lady was penniless. Harry had just not thought that had meantactuallypenniless. He’d imagined her dowry was on the small side.
Her pianoforte had not been tuned because her father could not even afford that small fee.
“Please allow me to apologize, Lady Isabel,” he said, turning the page. “I never meant to land on an uncomfortable subject, nor make you feel forced to explain anything about your circumstances.”
“It’s quite all right, Mr. Vance. I would just as soon not pretend to be something that I am not.”
“I think what youareis rather wonderful,” Harry said.
Lady Isabel did not answer that comment, nor had he expected her to. Instead, she put all her attention on where her hands were traveling across the keys.
He marveled at his own daring. It was the first moment he’d gone so far as to hint to a lady his admiration. He’d been scrupulous about never doing so, never crossing that line, lest he get himself into a situation that would be difficult to extricate himself from.
“I imagine the duchess will take great care with you this season,” he said.
“I imagine you are right,” Lady Isabel said, smiling. “The duchess has been kind enough to understand me and will guide me in the direction I wish to go.”
It was an enigmatic answer and Harry felt there was far more behind it. “What direction is that?” he asked casually, hoping she would answer but not certain that she would.
“Because of my father’s circumstances, I have understood what poverty means. I wish to have a position and never go near poverty again. I wish for anunassailableposition.”
There it was. Her declaration.
“Such as a dukedom, I imagine,” he said, attempting to keep the sulk from his tone.
“If that is where my future leads me,” she said firmly.
