Page 27

“I decided not to let go of my chance for the second time,” he said, and everyone laughed again.

Isabel huffed a laugh and shook her head. He could be quite charming, her husband, when he wished to be. She supposed she should be thankful that he’d expertly weaved them out of scandal.

When Vane concluded his speech, he walked toward Isabel and swept her away.

As they said their goodbyes and rode along the London streets in the carriage, Isabel looked at her husband. He was staring out the window, a familiar frown on his face.

“It was a lovely story you told,” Isabel said. “How did you come up with it so quickly?”

Vane didn’t turn to look at her. “I didn’t.”

“How interesting,” Isabel said, watching Vane’s face carefully. “Because I met a boy once in a similar fashion.”

He didn’t react. “Many young people meet at the stream, I imagine,” he said in bored tones. “I met a girl when I was young, just the same way.”

Isabel furrowed her brows. A coincidence? But she had no time to ask any more questions as at that moment, the carriage stopped, and the groom opened the door.

They’d arrived home.

* * *

Isabel entered the Vane townhouse and looked around. The place was empty and quiet. That fact alone gave her unpleasant shivers. The last time Isabel had been there, the place was in chaos. Now it seemed like a tomb of the dead. Or perhaps it was just her gloomy mood finding reflection inside her new home.

“Monroe,” Vane addressed the butler. “Please, tell Mrs. Ainsworth to collect the servants. We are ready to depart.”

Isabel turned to Vane sharply. “Depart?”

“Yes, we are leaving straight for my country home.”

“We are? But—”

“Did you have a reason to stay in London?” Vane asked as he moved farther inside.

“Well, yes.” Isabel followed Vane’s footsteps. “My brothers don’t know I am leaving—”

“We shall post them a note.”

“That’s not enough. They will worry!”

“I am certain they will make do.”

“My trousseau is not ready! Half of it is still at the modiste.”

Vane turned then and looked her up and down, lingering slightly on her decolletage. Isabel drew the shawl closer to her body.

“Do you have enough clothes for a few days?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then the rest shall be sent straight to us. We do not have to wait for it here.” He turned back and approached the stairs without waiting for her response.

“Vane!” Isabel said as loudly as she could without shouting. Or perhaps she did shout. She wasn’t quite certain, but her hands were fisted at her sides, and it felt like her head was about to burst. “I do not like to be ordered about. Does my opinion count for nothing?”

Vane halted on the steps, then slowly and unhurriedly turned toward her. “Did you not just vow in front of God and men that you shall obey me for the rest of your life?”

“Well, you vowed to cherish me, and I do not see you keeping that vow.”

“Miss Lewis—”