twenty-four
Silence dropped in the sitting room when Isabella gave the announcement.
After Anthony had so happily agreed to marry her, she hadn’t wanted him to leave his house and talk to her parents. He would arrange a meeting with Father to discuss her dowry and other things. Showing himself was a great sacrifice for him, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable on top of lying to him. The fact she genuinely cared about him and liked him only made her feel more guilty. Although to her credit, he’d brought up the marriage.
Mother seemed frozen with her needle halfway through the fabric of her work. Helen’s eyes remained wide and unblinking. Father watched her with his pipe hanging precariously in his mouth. They all seemed ready for a photograph.
Admittedly, she hadn’t done a good job at giving the news. Guilt gnawed at her without rest, fuelled by the vision of Anthony’s broad smile when she’d agreed without hesitation to his proposal. Also, her family weren’t aware of Anthony’s former intention of marrying her or of her secret meetings with him, so the news came unexpectedly.
“The duke wants to marry you.” Mother lowered her needlework.
“Yes.” Isabella summoned a bit of enthusiasm.
Father coughed puffs of smoke, putting down the pipe. “Why the hurry?”
“Because you’re leaving for the Americas, and I would like to share the wedding with you. The alternative would be waiting for too long, and Anthony doesn’t want a big wedding, given what happened to him.”
Helen finally blinked. “I don’t understand. He has never shown an interest in you, has he?”
It was time for a small confession. “Actually, he showed his interest in courting me before the incident, the night I danced the waltz with him. I meant to tell you, but then the incident happened. Anthony was recovering, and marriage was never mentioned again. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to marry me anymore. So I stayed silent. But now that he’s well and I don’t have a suitor, we can go ahead. A week from now, we’ll get married.”
So soon, yet so far away.
“You never told me you liked him so much,” Helen said, sounding hurt.
“You wanted to marry him. I didn’t think mentioning my interest was appropriate.”
Father arched his brow.
Helen rubbed her temples. “I don’t know what to say. The Dowager assured us the duke wanted to marry me.”
“Well.” Mother exhaled. “The duke has the last word. He chose Isabella, and she said yes. That’s all that matters.”
“Do you want to marry him?” Father asked, suspicion in his tone.
“I do.” Her hand covered her belly instinctively, and to be honest, Anthony was a good man.
She enjoyed his company and was ready to be a good wife to him. Maybe their relationship didn’t involve love or deep passion, but she couldn’t ask for more.
Mother smiled. “I’m happy for you, but we have a lot of work to do in a short time. You have to decide if you want to marry in white as the queen did, or if you want to wear any other colour. Light blue is in fashion although white and lots of lace are becoming predominant. Your choice.”
If only all her choices were that simple.
Helen slumped her shoulders. “You should be happy.”
Mother tapped Helen’s arm. “Youshould be happy for your sister and show her your support.”
Helen narrowed her gaze. “I always do the wrong thing, don’t I?”
“Not at all,” Isabella said as Mother said, “Don’t be sour. It’s unappealing.”
“Are you happy?” Father searched Isabella’s face.
“Very much.” Relieved, mostly. Guilty, surely.
Father rose to hug her. “I hope you’re happy, darling.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, a lump forming in her throat. “Thank you, Father.”
