Eloping with the Princess (Brotherhood of the Sword #3)(43)

Eleanor’s lips twitched for an instant before she smiled warmly at Isabel. And her own spine seemed to straighten just a little as she sent Ladies Candace and Whitney a sideways glance. After that, they were much more polite—as well as more subdued—allowing Eleanor and Isabel to guide the conversation.

After the women had left, Isabel considered going upstairs and ringing for a bath. The scullery maid stepped in to clear the trays. “Do you suppose it would be too rude to deny their visits in the future?” Isabel asked.

The maid looked around the room, then pointed to herself. “Are you speaking to me, my lady?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I would not know the proper response to such a situation, but I certainly wouldn’t want them to visit again. They were positively wretched.” She looked around the room again. “I shouldn’t have said that, though. Please forgive me, my lady.”

Isabel smiled at the girl, who was most likely about the same age as herself. “What is your name?”

“Katie, my lady.” She bobbed in a curtsy.

“Well, Katie, I completely agree and couldn’t have said it better myself.” Isabel came to her feet. She felt rather proud of how she’d handled the situation. “Of course, Lady Eleanor was rather pleasant, I believe, but she has caught herself up with those other ladies who are most unkind.” She bent to gather more of the dishes, but Katie jumped to the task, so Isabel stepped back. She briefly wondered what Jason would think of how she’d managed the women and their goading.

Katie said nothing else about the matter while she cleaned up the tea and cakes, readying the tray to remove it.

“That will be all,” Jason said from the door.

Katie curtsied and quickly left the room, tray in tow.

He stepped out of the maid’s way as she exited. “It is not customary to befriend the servants, Isabel,” he said gently.

“Her company is preferable to many,” Isabel said.

He nodded. “Yes, I heard you had visitors.”

“Indeed.” She stood behind one of the chairs, smoothed her hands against the upholstery. “I believe they came primarily to mock me, though I don’t understand why. I do not even know them.”

“Jealousy,” he said as if that explained everything.

She snorted. “I can’t imagine what I have that they’d be jealous about.”

He put his hand to his chest, feigning pain. “I should be offended.”

She watched him as a grin slid into place. He was ridiculously handsome when he smiled, so much so that it was hard to concentrate.

“I jest,” he said.

She smiled in return. “Of course, I meant no offense to you. I simply cannot fathom what they’d find so desirable about my life, since they already have busy lives of their own. Unless you are telling me that a portion of the women in London are in love with you.”

He hung his head and shook it gently. “Alas, it is true. I have left a string of broken hearts.”

She laughed despite the ludicrousness of the situation. “I overheard them at the dressmaker’s shop speaking about you. One of them seemed rather smitten, so you could consider yourself the breaker of at least one heart in London.”

His brows rose, then he nodded with recognition. “Candace Henning, yes, I remember seeing her as I was exiting the shop. I was to be nothing but a conquest to her.”

“She was very pretty,” Isabel said.

“Isabel, you are beautiful, stunning. More so than any other woman in London.”

Her entire body warmed under his gaze and kind words.

“You are a lost princess. That is the makings of a little girl’s fantasy.”

“You find me beautiful?” she asked dumbly.

He chuckled. “That is what you heard. Come, we shall go upstairs and have another lesson.”

She dared hope it was a lesson in lovemaking, but as they climbed the staircase all the way to the top, she knew it was fencing. She’d grown to love the sport, had sneaked up to practice every free moment she had. She felt rather accomplished now, and welcomed the physical release.

…

“I could have already cut you on more than one occasion,” Jason said. Ever since their first lesson in fencing, Jason had wanted to spar with her again. Today he’d been unable to wait any longer.

“Your skills are more refined than mine,” she said.

“True, but I do not believe that is the problem. You are distracted. We do not have to continue. Perhaps you’d prefer additional lessons from my mother on how better to fit in with ladies of the ton.”

Her eyes flared with anger, and he suppressed the urge to smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary.” She jabbed him with her foil, her steps more precise and strong. “I believe I managed the situation, and I sincerely doubt those particular women will visit again.”

He lifted a brow. “It was only a suggestion, considering how this first visit went. I suspect you’ll receive more visitors and likely some invitations to attend tea with other ladies in Town.”

“They were mocking me,” she said, again jabbing at him, her anger evident in every move. “I believe it might be the last time.”

And just like that, she was in a furious battle where their foils clanged against each other. She met every lunge, every strike.