A Summons From the Duke (9 page)

Lockwell, however, was still a scoundrel and a wastrel. He may have been kind to her, and he may have knocked her off her toes with that kiss last night, but a wolf in sheep’s clothing was a still a wolf. Wasn’t he?

~
12 ~

That evening, all the family gathered in the drawing room after dinner for another evening of wassail and general merriment. Even the happy couple (who had been mysteriously absent all afternoon) joined them.

Lockwell sat at the pianoforte and several of the cousins circled ‘round to sing carols with him. Isabel had already made a fool of herself once today; she would stay as far away from the pianoforte as possible this evening.

“
Izzy.” Emma came up beside her and looped her arm through Isabel’s. “Will you take a turn about the room with me?”

Isabel raised her brows at her sister. “A turn about the room? When have you ever asked me to take a turn about the room?”

Emma smiled sadly at her. “I know it’s horribly formal, but…well, I don’t anticipate that we’ll have much time to talk going forwards. Not like we used to anyway.”

Damn her sister, she was going to make her cry right here in the middle of a room full of people. Isabel looked up at the coffered ceiling, took a deep breath and then exhaled. There. Much better. “Well, then I guess we’d better make do with a turn about the room.”

They started off, slowly making their way to the perimeter of the room. When they were out of earshot of anyone else, Emma asked, “How are you, Izzy?”

It seemed like a silly and pedantic question for a sister to ask her twin, but it was leaden with concern and deeper meaning.

“
It’s not going to be easy, but I will survive.”

“
I’m so sorry, Izzy. I never expected for it to happen so quickly. I hate to think of you here all alone.”

Isabel started to laugh at the notion of being alone—it was hard to imagine when the castle was overrun with relatives. But then she thought ahead to after Christmas. After everyone left, including Emma. Then she would truly be alone. How very depressing.

Here she was, desperate for a moment to herself, complaining about all the blasted cousins taking over her home, but in a few days she would have no one. Except her parents and Grandpapa, of course, but they hardly counted.

Oh, dear. What would she do without Emma at music lessons? Or the embroidery circle Mother forced them to participate in? Emma always embroidered something for Isabel the night before, so she could simply pretend to embroider and then show her mother a finished product when the time was up. There would be no more hiding behind Emma now. Her mother would truly know what a disappointment she was to the fairer sex.

However, Isabel was not about to let on to her sudden case of despair over the whole matter. She patted Emma’s hand and smiled kindly at her. “You mustn’t worry about me, Em. I shall be fine. And you know how much I value my solitude. I shall never even know you’re gone.”

Emma started a bit, and tears formed in her eyes. Oh, bother. She’d buggered it up, hadn’t she?

“
Oh, Em. I didn’t mean it that way,” she amended. “Of course I shall miss you tremendously. I just don’t want you to worry for me. Really, I will be fine.”

It was too late to stop the tears—they trickled down Emma’s cheeks, despite her smile. “I will always worry for you, Izzy.”

They embraced one another and when they parted, Heathfield appeared beside them. Isabel gave him a smile and then nudged Emma in his direction.

“
Shall we retire, sunshine?” he asked, but it was obvious that mere sleep was not on his mind.

Clearly, Emma felt the same way. She nodded, then took Heathfield’s arm, and left the party. Isabel looked about the room. She should try to make conversation with her cousins, but she truly wanted nothing more than to retire herself.

“
Isabel, you are not being a very gracious hostess.” Her mother’s censure slithered over her, bothering her even more than it usually did.

“
I know, Mother,” she replied. “I’m sorry. I think I’m feeling ill.”

“
Isabel, I know you prefer quiet and solitude so you can…read your books,” she said, biting out the words as if they were poisonous. “But you will not shirk your duties. Go and talk with your cousins.”

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Isabel wanted to leave, and so leave she would. But rather than argue, she simply sought to prove her point with her actions.

She brought her hand to her mouth as she pretended to be sick to her stomach. It was simple, really, to make herself nearly vomit. When she was ten, she’d practiced for hours trying to make it look and sound real. All her hard work had paid off. Mother backed up in horror, and then put her arms around Isabel’s shoulders.

“
Oh, dear. You really are ill, aren’t you?” she said as she ushered Isabel from the room.

Mother waved a servant over and instructed him to call for Nancy. Isabel felt a little bad at calling Nancy from her sleep, but it couldn’t be helped. They continued towards the staircase—Mother was absolutely terrified that Isabel might toss up her accounts in the middle of the corridor. Nancy met them on the stairs and took over the duties of escorting Isabel to her room while Mother returned to the party.

Once they were safely inside her room, the door shut firmly behind them, Isabel collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles.

“
Have you lost your mind, miss?” Nancy asked, coming to the edge of the bed.

Isabel wiped tears from her eyes. “I think that is a definite possibility, Nancy.”

~*~

Damien watched Isabel leave the room, hunched over with her mother’s arms around her shoulders. Dear God, was she ill? Why did his stomach plummet at that thought? Why did he want to chase after her and mop her brow until she was better?

And why, why, why hadn’t he run screaming from the castle when the duke asked if he wanted to marry Isabel? How utterly disturbing to realize that in the course of one day, a man such as himself could be brought to his knees by a woman.

“
You play beautifully, Mr. Lockwell,” one of the cousins said. What was her name again? It started with an E…or perhaps it was a C?

“
Thank you,” he said evasively. “Though I fear my hands are getting rather tired. Perhaps someone else would like a go of it?”

“
I’m not nearly as well trained as you, Mr. Lockwell, but I will do my best.” The girl with the E name—or C name—slid into the chair, then looked up at him expectantly. Clearly, she wished for him to linger and tell her what an accomplished player she was, but he had no desire to loll about.

“
Well, enjoy!” he said, and then quickly made his escape.

Lady Norland had returned, which meant that Isabel was alone in her bedchamber. She could not have been that ill, since her mother felt it was all right to return to the party.

Damien practically ran the corridors and then he took the stairs two at a time, until he found himself on the floor that housed the twins’ bedchambers. It was easy to figure out which door belonged to Isabel, for there was a great deal of laughter coming from inside of it.

“
Oh, Nancy, you should have seen Mother’s face! I nearly sent her into an apoplexy!”

“
Be careful, miss. You don’t really want to send your mother to an early grave, do you?”

The laughter died down a bit. “No, of course not,” Isabel said, though he wasn’t certain she told the whole truth. “But it was great fun, and now I don’t have to spend the evening with those…people.”

Damien took a bit of offense to that since he was, in fact, one of
those people.

“
They’re your family, miss!” Nancy sounded appalled.

“
Most of whom have never bothered to darken our doorstep in years. Only because they think Grandpapa is dying and might leave something for them in his will have they returned.”

“
Come now, where’s your Christmas spirit? Why don’t you try seeing the good rather than the bad?”

Damien had to agree with Nancy. Besides, if he hadn’t assumed the best of Isabel, he never would have followed her to the library yesterday.

“
Oh, fine,” Isabel said. “I will try…tomorrow. For tonight, I just want to go to sleep.”

“
Very well, miss. Do you require anything before I go back to bed?”

“
No, I’m fine, Nancy. Thank you.”

Damien quickly slid into the shadows as Nancy emerged from Isabel’s bedchamber. Once she was good and gone, he went to the door and scratched.

“
Enter! Did you forget something?”

Damien slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. Isabel sat at her vanity in nothing but her underclothes. Her long, chestnut hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, shining in the candlelight.

“
I forgot to kiss you goodnight,” Damien said.

Isabel whirled in her chair, obviously startled. “Lockwell, how did you—”

He crossed the room in few strides and lifted her from the tufted stool so that she stood before him. “Shh, not so loud. You’d think this place would have thicker walls, but I could hear every word you and your maid spoke.”

“
You were eavesdropping again?”

“
I thought you were ill. I came to check on you.”

She blinked up at him. “Why?”

Damien couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “But somehow…” He took a deep breath. “Somehow I’ve grown to care about your well-being, Lady Isabel.”

“
You have?”

He nodded.

“
Well, then you’ll be glad to know that I faked the entire thing.”

“
Yes, I am glad to know that. I would hate for you to be feeling poorly.”

The silence between them seemed to crackle. Heat built in Damien’s gut and naturally spread to other more obvious parts of his anatomy. He had never wanted anything or anyone so badly in all his life. Unable to control himself, he grabbed Isabel around the waist and dragged her into his arms. She wore so little clothing—the material so thin that he could
feel
her, every part of her, as he lowered his head to claim her lips.

~
13 ~

Lockwell’s kiss was more than welcome tonight. After all the inner turmoil that had consumed her for the last two days, she realized this was the one thing that felt right. Never mind that love was ridiculous and people in love were even
more
ridiculous. Perhaps she was the ridiculous one for raging so heartily against it when it felt so wonderful. Much to her amazement, she realized that she loved Lockwell. Not only that, she didn’t mind that she loved him. She wanted to love him, and she wanted him to love her back. Oh, heavens! What if he didn’t love her back?

She pulled away from his kiss with a great deal of reluctance. “Lockwell, if we are discovered—”

He shushed her and put his lips to hers again. She allowed it for a moment, then pulled away again. “Lockwell, really, if we are discovered, there will be no escaping—”

He cut her off with yet another kiss. But this time, Isabel would not be deterred. “Lockwell!” she hissed at him, pushing him back with all her might. “Are you listening to me?”

“
Yes, of course, darling.”

Darling
? “Well. What will you say for yourself if we are discovered?”

A smile came to his lips—that same sly smile he’d given her in the library the day before. “I will say, ‘To hell with all of you! I can kiss my bride whenever I so choose!’”

Isabel’s jaw dropped and she stared aghast at Lockwell. “Your
what
?”

He moved closer to her again, then dropped to his knees before her. “I know that I am a wastrel and a scoundrel and lots of other unsavory terms, but I am also a man in love…with you,” he added when she didn’t respond. “In case there was any question.”

This tickled Isabel and brought her from her stupor. She laughed wholeheartedly as she collapsed to her knees and fell into Lockwell’s arms. At which point a thought occurred to her…

“
Lockwell,” she said, sitting back on her haunches. “I don’t even know your given name. I can’t marry you without knowing your name, can I?”

“
Damien,” he said.

Isabel tried it on for size. “Mrs. Damien Lockwell.” She smiled wide at him. “I love it.”

He pulled her into his arms again. “And I love
you
.”

~*~

“
You look magnificent, my child.” Grandpapa held out his arms to Isabel as she descended the staircase to the grand foyer. “I think married life suits you.”

There was a glimmer in his eyes—a glimmer she knew Grandpapa reserved just for her.

“
Well,” Isabel said with a tilt of her nose, “it turns out Mr. Lockwell isn’t nearly as much a waste of space as I originally thought.”

“
Thank you for that, my dear,” Damien said from beside her. “I’m glad to know your opinion of me is slightly elevated from a few days ago.”