He chuckled. “See? I like your honesty. Another lady wouldn’t have said that.”
“I love dancing, but the wrong shoes turn it into a challenge. And just so you know, I love gardening, too.”
“My mother loved flowers and plants. I’m afraid that since her passing, our conservatory has been neglected. But if you wish to take care of it, I’ll be more than happy.”
“If I agree to be your duchess?”
“Even if you don’t.”
She gave him her first bright smile since the beginning of the ball.
On the sweet notes ofThe Blue Danube, he let her twirl around the ballroom. She laughed when she turned under his arm and during the quick chassés. He silently thanked the Duke of Kent for having introduced many waltz steps decades ago. The two-hands-across step brought him so close to Isabella that he could see the golden specks in her irises, and when they clasped hands, the world became perfect.
If her parents were watching, he couldn’t tell. His focus was only on her.
When the waltz ended and the couples clapped at the maestro, she was radiant. And he basked in her radiance like someone who saw the sun after a long time in the dark.
“Wonderful.” She brushed a curl from her cheek.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
He escorted her to the dining room, looking forward to sharing dinner with her. Grandmama followed him with her keen gaze that promised a long conversation afterwards. From a corner, Helen glared at them as well, her face flushed.
Isabella drew in a breath. “Helen must be furious with me.”
“We can talk to her together if you wish. I’ll tell her it was only a waltz.”
“But it wasn’t.”
He was about to tell her that Helen would forget him easily when Rogers stopped next to him and leant closer.
“Your Grace, there’s an urgent matter that requires your immediate intervention.”
He hoped it wasn’t another scandalous fashion emergency. “If you’ll excuse me, Isabella.”
Isabella bowed her head.
“I’m sorry to leave you in a moment like this. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“Do not worry.” She touched his arm briefly, but his heart stuttered.
Anthony followed the butler out of the dining room and along the corridor towards the library.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
He didn’t need an answer; the angry voice of Lord McFall echoed in the hallway.
“How dare you?” McFall roared.
“It’s a misunderstanding.” That was Patrick.
Anthony strode into the library, skidding to a stop at the threshold.
Lady McFall trembled in a corner next to the window, covering herself with a curtain; she was visible only from the neck up. Patrick’s shirt was open, and his waistcoat and jacket were on the carpet. The scene didn’t bode well at all.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
Patrick rubbed his chin. “Lord McFall is under the impression that something untoward must have happened here between his wife and me.”
