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Isabel climbed the stairs and headed into her bedroom, her mind still turning. She found herself wanting to tell her mother about what happened two days ago in the park. But she knew that Lady Dunley would be shocked and upset about it; she had trusted Richard not to do something like that.
If she were honest, Isabel had never expected it, either. She didn’t think Richard would be pulling her out of sight of everyone to have an excuse to kiss her. That wasn’t the Richard Sidney she knew. He had been a sweet and slightly awkward boy who would never have thought of doing that to anyone. He certainly would never have done that with her.
You were a child when he left for Europe. And he’s all grown up now, as are you. Things are going to be different.
I’ve noticed. And I can’t stop thinking about it.
Isabel had lain awake at night, still thinking about the kiss and how nice it felt. Nobody had ever kissed her before, and she certainly never thought her first would be with someone she had known since she was a little girl. Richard was the sort of person she had thought of as a brother, who didn’t mind her being around but often tolerated her.
Things had changed since he had returned home, and Isabel had noticed the changes very keenly. He was bigger, broader, certainly more handsome. And he was making Isabel’s heart feel like she was constantly running, and her body seemed as if she were standing out in the hot sun. Was that normal? Isabel didn’t think so.
Why did he have to do that? Isabel had turned it over in her mind and couldn’t come to a proper conclusion as to why Richard thought it was a good idea to kiss her. Had he taken a leave of his senses? Did he think, as a grown man, he could take liberties? But Isabel didn’t see it as taking a liberty.
All she knew was that if Richard kissed her again, she would be more than accepting. She wanted more.
And that couldn’t happen. It just couldn’t. Richard was a member of the gentry; he wasn’t a noble. Even noblemen didn’t take liberties like that. Did they?
Even if they did, it was no excuse for what happened. Isabel should have told him to stop. But she didn’t. And now, she was in turmoil.
She didn’t know what to do, but she couldn’t say anything about it. This couldn’t be discussed with anyone. Isabel had no friends here, although Arnaud was the closest she could count as a friend. However, Arnaud would be inclined to tell Lady Dunley about it, and she couldn’t allow that to happen.
That would mean Isabel wouldn’t see Richard again, and she didn’t want that to happen. Even after what Richard did, Isabel couldn’t bring herself to cut contact with him again. It had been hard enough the first time around, and all they were doing was parting while Richard travelled.
Her head was in a mess.
Isabel went to her bedroom, where Arnaud had laid out her dress. It was a beautiful lilac colour, almost looking like wisps of fabric. Lady Blythcourt said it would be perfect for her, making her stand out without too much ostentatious detail. Isabel wasn’t too sure, but she was going to have to trust her cousin about this.
She just wished she didn’t have to go at all.
“Miss Moore?”
“Hmm?” Isabel looked up. “Yes?”
“Are you ready to get dressed for the ball?” Arnaud peered at her. “You look like you want to run away.”
“Oh, right.” Isabel smoothed her hands down her skirts. “I’m just a little nervous, that’s all. It’s something I’ve not done before, and I’m trying not to panic.”
Arnaud smiled.
“I think you’ll be absolutely fine. You won’t have any worries at all.”
“I’d like to believe that.” Isabel took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with. Hopefully, I’ll be calmer once I get this on.”
The two of them worked quickly, changing Isabel out of her day clothes and into her new gown. It felt really soft and light on her, even with the corset tightened to the point Isabel felt a little light-headed. She took a look at herself in the mirror. It did look beautiful, but it didn’t look quite right on her. Isabel felt awkward.
Could she actually do this?
“Oh, stop looking so scared, Miss Moore.” Arnaud steered her mistress towards the dressing table. “I need to fix your hair, and then you’ll be ready.”
“No powder or anything, please.” Isabel made a face at the items on the dresser. “I don’t want that stuff on my face. It makes me sneeze, and I’ll feel worse.”
“It’s part of Society’s rules to cover up blemishes, Miss.”
Isabel snorted.
“If people don’t like my freckles, they can just walk away and forget me. They are a part of me, and I’m not covering them up.”
Lady Blythcourt had attempted to show her that powder and various makeup items were what a lady wore, but the powder tickled Isabel’s nose, and she felt like a court jester or someone playing a comedic role on the stage. Not what she wanted when she was meeting potential husbands.
