“Yes, I understand, and I won’t allow it,” Lady Hartington continued. Isolde frowned. What did she mean by that?
“You won’t allow it?” Isolde asked, confused.
“If you think that by claiming my son’s heart, and therefore his fortune, you’ll be able to pull your father out of his sinkhole of debt, you’re gravely mistaken.”
Isolde did gasp, then. She felt her cheeks burn with shame to know Thaddeus’s mother thought so little of her.
“Lady Hartington, I assure you, I want nothing of the kind!” Isolde exclaimed. Even as she said the words, however, she felt a twinge of guilt. After all, she was hoping to use her engagement to Thaddeus as a way not only to make a good match for herself, but to help her family as well.
But still,she thought,that’s quite different from planning to actually marry Thaddeus and try to take his wealth for myself!
Lady Hartington gave her a severe glare, clearly unconvinced.
“We shall see,” she finally said, standing up. “If that is your design, you may be sure that I will see the end of it. For now, I bid you good night.”
Not knowing what else to do, Isolde stood and followed Lady Hartington from the room. With the other woman watching, she had no choice but to head back upstairs to her room. She was so shaken that she sat for several minutes on her bed, waiting for her breathing to calm and her heart to stop racing.
Finally, hoping desperately that Lady Hartington had actually gone to bed this time, she left her room once more and headed for the orangery.
Chapter 14
Thaddeus twisted his hands together as he waited in the darkened orangery. He could not remember the last time he was this nervous.
He couldn’t decide if he wanted Isolde to show up or not. He desperately wanted to speak to her, yet the idea of telling her how he felt made him break out in a cold sweat.
The minutes seemed to crawl by. There was no clock in the orangery, but Thaddeus had left the house at exactly midnight, so surely she would arrive soon.
If she was coming.
He sighed, sitting down on one of the benches. It had been a long day of hunting and then playing host, and the longer he waited for Isolde to appear, the more the exhaustion of the day’s activities seemed to hit him.
He leaned his head back against the orangery wall and wondered how much longer he should wait. Maybe he needed to admit to himself that Isolde wasn’t coming.
Just then, his ears picked up the distinct sound of the orangery door opening, and then the sound of a lady’s skirts swishing across the floor. He jumped up, straightening his clothes and reaching up to make sure his hair was tidy.
Not wanting to stand like a statue waiting for her to find him, he hurried toward the door. His mouth was already opening to call out to her when he rounded into the main aisle and felt a shock go through him.
It was not Isolde. It was Vivienne.
He halted in his tracks, surprise quickly replaced by a surge of annoyance.
“Oh, Lord Hartington!” she said, her face a perfect expression of shock. “How astonishing to meet you here! I was only hoping to have a moment of privacy, but we must have been thinking along the same lines.”
“Indeed,” he said through clenched teeth. He briefly thought through his options. He could tell Vivienne he was waiting for someone else and ask her to leave, but that seemed ill-advised.
Even if she left without trouble, he didn’t trust her not to tell others about it. If they stayed here, however, Isolde might arriveand find them alone, together. That was the last thing he wanted her to see.
Leaving seemed the best choice. Perhaps he could wait nearby and watch for Isolde, catching her before she went in and explaining Vivienne was in the orangery and they should talk elsewhere.
“Forgive me, but I was actually just leaving,” he said, pushing past her to the door. He was alarmed to hear the sound of her skirts following behind.
“Yes, now that I feel how humid the air is in here, I think perhaps it was a poor choice,” she said, following him out the door. He hesitated. If he left altogether, he might miss Isolde. But if he did not …
“Yes, the air is much nicer out here,” Vivienne continued. “Shall we take a nighttime stroll?” Without waiting for him to answer, she took his arm and started to lead him further into the gardens.
He sighed, deciding to walk with her a little way and then excuse himself. If he was quick about it, he might still get back to the orangery before Isolde left.
Her hand on his arm was like a vice, and he wanted to shake it off. Instead, he gave an exaggerated yawn.