Only a Duke Will Do by Tamara Gill

Chapter 4

Isolde took a deep calming breath as she rode away from the man who was now her past, but had once been her future. The sight of him again, his fierce dark eyes that gave little away, taunted her emotions. His perfectly straight nose, strong jaw, and chiseled cheeks that showed his aristocratic breeding to perfection were not something she’d thought to see so soon. The disastrous final night they had spent together under the same roof bombarded her mind, and she fought to control her constitution.

Their time had passed. Best that she place him within that box as well.

Anne and Lord Kinruth bid good-bye to Merrick but then stopped quickly to converse with another gentleman before joining her. She could see that they’d not known the history between her and Merrick and probably wanted to hear more.

Anne trotted up to her, her eyes bright with wonder. “I must admit, dearest, I did not realize you and His Grace were so closely connected.”

“I am heartily delighted you know His Grace so well. We shall be a very merry party this season, once the duchess joins us, of course,” Lord Kinruth said, looking pleased by the turn of events.

Isolde composed herself enough to answer. “It has been years since I’ve seen the Duke of Moore and his duchess. I think it would be best if we go on as before and not force a friendship that neither of us wish for.”

Anne nodded. “If that is what you wish, dear, of course we shall not meddle.” Anne looked back at the gentleman from whom they’d just parted. “Now you must let me tell you whom we just ran into. A gentleman acquaintance of ours. Blake Marlborough, Marquess of Wardoor. He’s back from the continent, as he has a home in Paris. He’s here for the Season.”

Isolde ignored her friend’s shrewd gaze. She had decided to come back to London to try to find a husband. A man who she could trust and have children with. It was only right that her closest friend would try to matchmake. “I know Lord Wardoor. I met him a few years ago at a country dance. I’ll be glad to see him again, but not today.” She fiddled with her reins, not wanting to remember what a good friend Wardoor was to Merrick and that it was, in fact, Wardoor who’d introduced them. “I hope you don’t mind, but I must be off home. I promised Mama a good catch-up today before the Season goes into full swing and we won’t have enough time to breathe, nevertheless gossip.”

“I understand your wish to spend time with your mama. If you wouldn’t mind, may I send our groom to accompany you? Clayton has promised me a little longer ride today, since it’s to be my last, and I’d hate to have to cut it short.”

Isolde smiled, happy that her friends would soon be a family. “I don’t mind, and I thank you.” She paused as his lordship beckoned the groom over to them. “Will you be attending Viscount Chudley’s soiree tomorrow night?” she asked.

“Yes, we will.”

“I shall see you there then.” Isolde rode toward the gates that led onto Park Lane. The slow trot toward home calmed her nerves. However, seeing Merrick again had taken all the enjoyment out of her day. Now, she wanted nothing more than solitude in the quiet of her room, where she could think. Why could Merrick not have stayed in the country like other married men were wont to do? Once, he used to enjoy the country more than the city. Isolde sighed; she would just have to resign herself to the fact that this Season they would be in each other’s social sphere and would need to make the best of that bad situation.

Her ruse that her mama wanted to see her was just that, a ruse. Although, upon arriving home, her need for peace was short-lived when her younger sister, Alice, knocked loudly on her bedchamber door before throwing it open and storming inside.

“Mama said you borrowed her pearl and gold necklace. I wish to have it threaded through my hair tomorrow night. I think it’ll make my light curls more vibrant. What do you think?” Alice frowned. “Is something the matter, Isolde? You’re very pale.”

Isolde sat up and leaned against the backboard of her bed. “I saw Moore.” Her heart hurt at the mention of his name. Damn it. “His son looks like him.”

Alice’s shoulders slumped, and she came to sit next to her, kicking off her slippers and getting under the blankets also. How she loved her sisters and their ability to push aside whatever they were doing to comfort those in need. Alice was no different, and probably the most caring of all her siblings. Not just for them, but for the general populace, too.

“Where did you see him?”

“In Hyde Park. He was giving his son, William, a riding lesson. He’s a father.” She paused. “Did you know that?”

Alice took her hand, clasping it tight. “I know it must be hard to see him with a child he adores. And William is such a dear boy. Too bad about his mother.” Her sister paused. “We didn’t tell you about Miss Hart’s pregnancy because we thought it would only hurt you more.”

The knowledge did hurt. If Isolde could remove her heart and throw it away she would, if only to never feel the constant pain of separation she endured every day she was away from Merrick. “You should have told me, although I can understand why none of you did.” She sighed, thinking about Merrick and all the pain his name wrought on her body. “And be sure not to speak so basely of Her Grace; it’ll not win you any favors in the ton.”

“I shall say whatever I wish about the duchess,” Alice said, catching her eye. “Miss Hart, Letty, your best friend, is not the woman you once knew, or any of us thought we knew. She’s the talk of the ton, and probably the demimonde as well. I have no doubt Merrick doesn’t know half of what his wife gets up to. And I can’t help but think that’s a good thing.”

“He’s not Merrick to us anymore. You must call him His Grace or Moore.”

Alice played with the bedding, pulling at a loose thread. “I have an array of words I’d like to call him, and none of them are those.” She sighed. “Just before Elizabeth was married, we spotted him about Town. Whenever he’d see us at parties or musicales, he always looked to see which of us were present. We could not help but think he was looking for you. I believe he still loves you.”

Isolde bit her lip, unable to imagine such a thing. He had broken her heart, and for her to move on, she needed it to heal, become complete once more. “Although I believe Merrick may harbor some regret in the way his marriage came about, I believe he is happy. He has a son, an heir whom he seems to adore. The duke and duchess obviously love each other enough to sleep together to create a child.”

“His Grace, you mean?” Alice grinned.

Isolde rolled her eyes. “Yes, His Grace.” Although he would always be Merrick to her, not a lofty title or a man who wielded power and influence. Just a man who’d captured her heart and then crushed it in the palm of his hand.

“And don’t be fooled that they have a sexual relationship. They do not. William is the child created from the night of your intended wedding. I’ve had it from my maid, who’s friends with one of Her Grace’s maids, that they do not share a room, nor are ever together. Leonora has a lover, you know.”

Isolde met Alice’s gaze, shocked to hear such a tale. “How do you know such things? And I’m not even going to ask how you know about sexual relationships. Have you been reading books from the library again that are not for you?”

Her sister shrugged. “Those books are most interesting. And I’m telling you only what is common knowledge. In fact, they’re hardly ever seen on amicable terms about Town. I know, just from my own observations, that they look less than pleased when out together at balls and parties.” Alice frowned, thinking for a moment. “The duke and duchess often appear as if they’ve eaten something sour and wish to spit it out.”

“You shouldn’t gossip.” Isolde jumped out of the bed, walking to the window and looking over the back gardens of their London home, watched the gardener cut pink roses and place them in a basket. Merrick was unhappy in his marriage? It was not something she’d ever wondered about. They were married now, with a child, and no matter what the rumors about Town were, it didn’t change the fact that he’d married another and had carried on with his life. Not like Isolde; she had placed herself firmly on the shelf, content to stay there to repine for all time.

“I think it’s time that I married and got on with my life. I’ve spent enough hours mourning the loss of the duke. More than he deserved.”

“What!” Alice was beside her in a moment. “What has brought this on? I just assumed that you would never marry.”

Despite herself, Isolde laughed. “I’ve decided to find a husband this Season. I want a child of my own, a family that’s all mine. I’ll no longer let myself rot in the wilds of Scotland, pining for a life that never came to be. I think,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat, “that I’m a little lonely.”

Alice dragged her into a tight hug. “You’re never alone, as we’re always here for you. And you don’t know how glad I am to hear this news. You’re too beautiful, inside and out, not to be loved and adored. Any gentleman would be mad not to fall in love with you. And you’re the kindest of us all. In fact, I should strive to be more like you.”

Isolde didn’t feel very kind or charitable at the moment, and the sister Alice described had withered away under jealousy and despondent emotions that served no one. She no longer resembled the carefree, happy woman she’d once been. All thanks to Leonora’s perfidy that had ruined all her hopes. How she wished her life had, in fact, played out just as she and Merrick had wished—she would be happily married and even possibly a mother right at this moment.

Alice clasped her hand. “I declare, before the end of the Season, that we’ll find someone most suitable and handsome for you to marry. A gentleman who’ll adore and care for you like you’ve never known before.”

“I’m not concerned about his features, so long as he’s kind and secure. Not someone who’ll say one thing while doing something else.” She read the understanding in her sister’s eyes and shrugged. “I want to be happy and content, not necessarily in love.” Love was for fools and an emotion that caused only heartbreak when given to the wrong man.

“We want you to be happy, too.” Alice studied the gardens for a moment, a contemplative look on her face. “With His Grace in Town, do you think you’ll be well enough to withstand his presence? I know it must be difficult.”

A knot formed in her stomach at the thought of seeing Merrick at most of the events they were to attend. The same sphere of friends suddenly seemed very small and select. “I will have to bear it as best I can. Our first meeting is over, and we’re unlikely to be friends, but I shall not cause a scene, if that is what you’re worried about.” She grinned, although inside she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs at the unfairness of it all. “I will try to limit our interactions as much as possible.”

“Do you still feel hurt by his marriage?”

Isolde sighed, not wanting to declare just what a severing to her soul he’d administered. How much they’d both hurt her. “I think back to how we had been and what happened that night, and it just doesn’t make sense to me. I trusted him, wholeheartedly, and he broke that trust in the worst way imaginable. Watching him marry Miss Hart almost killed me. The day before, we’d been celebrating our forthcoming nuptials, and the next day I witnessed him marrying someone else.” How could she put into voice that each word Merrick and Leonora had spoken in front of the priest had been like a stab through her heart? To see someone else promise herself to the man who’d made up all that she’d ever wished for had been a slow, painful death. It was what nightmares were made of.

Alice pulled her into another embrace, and she went willingly to her sister’s comforting welcome. “I’m so sorry, Isolde. You did not deserve what they did to you.”

“I know you are, and so am I. The mistakes we made that night are not only Merrick’s. I must admit, I should have listened to him, believed him over Leonora. Father, too, for that matter. Had we, maybe my life would be far different than it is now.”

“Did His Grace try to explain?”

She sighed, furious at herself for not listening, as she should have.“He did, but I was of half an ear and not thinking clearly. Papa and Josh weren’t interested in his excuses, and Merrick was forced to marry Leonora. But I have wondered how I could’ve dismissed him so, not believed him over Leonora when he had been, in fact, my best friend. The man I loved and trusted beyond anyone. I was not fair, and I sometimes think that the hell we live is because I could not swallow my pride or tell my father to keep his at bay. I lost him. I allowed him to marry someone else.”

Isolde sat before the unlit hearth, a chill running through her veins. “He stated he did not know it was Miss Hart who snuck into his room, said that she’d tricked him.”

“And if she did,” Alice said, joining her, “I would certainly not put it past Miss Hart. She was always jealous of you.”

“Father refused me leave to speak to Merrick alone to get to the bottom of what happened. I think, should he have convinced me of his innocence, I would’ve run away to make him my husband. But that is not how it played out, and so we must move on and live as our lives dictate.”

“That is very sad, Isolde and I’m sorry for you.”

Isolde smiled, rallying her spirits. “Don’t be, for I’m determined to make this Season fun and perhaps end with a happily-ever-after of my own.”

Alice sat on a chair across from her, grinning. “I’m going to make it my Season’s duty to ensure that’s exactly what will occur. Now.” Alice stood, walking to Isolde’s armoire. “We need to find you the most scandalous, delectable gown you own for tomorrow night’s soiree. Heads shall turn. I’ll not have it any other way.”

Isolde laughed, excitement thrumming through her veins. “Perhaps the red silk net gown with the embroidered chenille thread? It looks beautiful on.”

Alice lifted out the gown and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, this will do nicely. And perhaps Mama will loan you her rose garnets?”

“She’s already said she would.” Isolde grinned.

“La! What a shame the soiree isn’t tonight. Tomorrow seems too many hours away.”

Isolde smiled at her younger sister but didn’t reply. Tomorrow night was soon enough, and hopefully, the scandal of her broken engagement was something that the ton had long forgotten.