Isadora flushed, unable to help herself. “The duke and I… we married out of a mutual agreement.”
“A marriage of convenience? How quaint.” Caroline chewed her lip as she looked across at Nicholas, who was busy speaking with a larger group of gentlemen. “But do you like him?”
“Of course I like him.”
She slapped Isadora’s arm playfully. “Oh, youknowwhat I mean. Do youlikelikehim?”
“I—” Isadora found the words failing on the tip of her tongue. The simple answer was that, no, she didn’t; she had never felt anything remotely tender for him. Theirs was a passionless agreement, and that was all they had ever committed to.
And yet…
If she denied it, would she be lying? Did she have feelings for Nicholas?
“Say no more…” Caroline answered cryptically, and patted her hand. “Well, he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you the entire time we’ve been talking, so it seems there may be hope for you yet.”
Isadora made to turn, but Caroline heaved her back. “Not yet! Let him have some space for you, and perhaps pine a little.”
“We see each other little enough as it is,” Isadora said, grimacing. “I doubt he pines.”
“You don’t know that! Men of his caliber keep everything inside, I assure you. Heaven forbid theyexpresstheir feelings. As though we should ever be so lucky.” She chuffed a laugh. “But we ladies prevail anyway! He is your husband, and you have ample opportunity to compel him to fall in love with you, if that’s what you’re looking for. And if not, that is just as easy. Perhaps easier. You have a lot of freedom as a married lady, you know. Perhaps you could try using some of it.”
“Oh.” Isadora considered her position for a moment. Shewasa duchess, married and with an entire household at her command. Nicholas had never encouraged her to take full advantage of it, but he had never discouraged her, either. In fact, he had left her behavior entirely up to her.
Perhaps sheshouldtake more advantage of it. Who knew what could come from owning her position as a duchess and as Nicholas’s wife?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
As the picnic wound down, Isadora returned to the blankets where she lounged in the hazy sunshine and sipped idly at her wine, while watching the other members of the ton surrender to the afternoon’s languor. Beside her, worn out from the excitement and the activities of the day, Sophia stretched out flat, her eyes shut and her small chest rising and falling softly.
Isadora reached over and brushed the hair from Sophia’s face. Judging by the girl’s smile, she’d had a wonderful day.
Once again, Isadora glanced up to find Nicholas was nowhere to be seen. She sat straight up, a strange feeling fluttering through her. Concern? Was that it?
No. Not precisely; she doubted anything could have happened to him. But there had been plenty of ladies making eyes at his tall, handsome figure as he’d made his rounds. Isadora hadn’t minded too much—after all, he was her husband, and being theobject of envy didn’t unsettle her as much when he belonged to her—but now his absence sent unease clamoring over her heart.
Surely he wouldn’t have gone and spoken with someone in private, away from their party.
Unless—what if Mr. Windham had approached him and asked for a word? Isadora didn’t think he had been at the park, but they were in public, and it was perfectly possible that he might have heard about the activity and thought this was an ample opportunity to interfere again.
Her breath quickened. The last time he had involved himself in her marriage, she and Nicholas had…
But first he had come to address the matter with her. He had been possessive and angry, and she suspected evenhedidn’t know why he had behaved like that.
If they were to argue, better they did so away from Sophia.
She rose, ignoring the welcoming smiles sent in her direction—she had no intention of joining someone else’s group or conversation—and made her way to the stone paving that led through to the city center. And there, standing in a smaller alleyway, was Nicholas.
Relief pounded through her, aided and abetted by the fact that the man he was speaking to was not Mr. Windham. Thank heavens.
Although, from the looks of it, their conversation was not a pleasant one still. The man leaned forward, almost as though he were taunting Nicholas, and Nicholas’s shoulders were tight. He gestured sharply with one hand, the motion angry.
Isadora started forward, not knowing she had made the decision to move until she had already taken a few steps.
“Unacceptable!” Nicholas said, loudly enough that she caught the word, before his voice lowered once more.
The other man looked to be perhaps five or ten years older than Nicholas, his hair cropped short and his face handsome but in a nondescript way. If he turned and walked away now, she would not be able to pick him out of a crowd, she was almost certain.
And he was grinning in the face of Nicholas’s clear fury.
