Once a Duchess by Elizabeth Boyce

Author:Elizabeth Boyce [Boyce, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Romance, General, Historical
ISBN: 9781440557385
Publisher: Crimson Romance
Published: 2012-10-14T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Isabelle had spent the week since Naomi’s party in a numb haze. She and Lily attended several modest balls hosted by gentry or well-to-do professionals, although she had difficulty mustering enthusiasm for such affairs. A few gentlemen came to call upon Lily, and with Alex’s wish that she marry never far from Isabelle’s mind, she tried to pay attention to the men and catch someone’s notice. Every moment was a conscious struggle to not think about Marshall and what had happened the last time they were together.

It would not do, she chided herself. She had to snap out of her melancholy and evict Marshall from her thoughts. Someday, she would marry again. She would have children. To achieve those goals, she had to get past her stupid infatuation with her former husband.

To make matters worse, Lily had been shamelessly prying at Isabelle about the time she’d spent alone with Marshall at the greenhouse. Isabelle couldn’t bring herself to tell her the truth of the matter. While Lily knew about the whole, horrible debacle that had been Isabelle’s marriage, she worried her friend would think less of her if she found out Isabelle had allowed herself to get so carried away with Marshall again. Her humiliation would be even deeper, given the fact that Marshall had an understanding with Lady Lucy Jamison — a fact Isabelle could not bear to dwell upon, but couldn’t stop obsessing over.

This morning, she busied herself in her room writing a letter to Bessie about the upkeep of her small cottage. The house needed repairs, and figuring out the funds and suggesting workmen to complete the tasks proved to be a welcome preoccupation.

A joyful shriek sounded nearby, followed by a door slam and feet pounding down the hall.

Isabelle dropped her pen. She pivoted in her seat as her door flew open and Lily burst into the room, breathing heavily, her face aglow.

“Lily!” Isabelle proclaimed, half-rising from her seat.

“You will never believe,” Lily panted, “where we are going tonight.”

Her friend’s expression bordered on beatific. Isabelle shook her head. “The theater, I thought. Has that changed?”

Lily nodded. “It has. Father’s just told me we will be attending … ” She squealed.

Isabelle had never seen her friend so excited. She laughed at Lily’s giddiness. “Out with it! Where are we going?”

Lily walked toward her as though in a trance, her hands extended before her. “We are going to the Liverpools’ ball,” she said, then clamped a hand over her mouth as though she couldn’t believe she’d said it. Laughter bubbled forth, spilling from behind her hand as she jumped up and down like an excited child.

Isabelle gasped. “The Liverpools?” Lily nodded and grasped Isabelle’s hands. “As in, the Earl of Liverpool? The prime minister?” Lily nodded again and another delighted squeal escaped her throat.

Isabelle exhaled a laugh. The Liverpools’ ball would be teeming with the very crème of the haut ton — much grander than any event they had attended so far. “How can this be?” she asked, all agog.

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