The Wicked Heir (Spare Heirs #3)(32)
Which was why Isabelle would find a marriage where no one fought, a marriage where every day was filled with complete happiness. But she couldn’t find it standing here, being berated by her mother.
Isabelle tossed out a quick apology for wandering away without an explanation or an escort and turned away from her mother to begin her study of the gentlemen who were milling about the area. Leaning around a group of ladies, she ran her fingers over her necklace as she scanned the room for gentlemen.
“In search of a better view of the room, Lady Isabelle?” Lady Smeltings asked as she joined them. Her usual air of judgment turned her question into quite the put-down, but Isabelle didn’t flinch under her scrutiny. At least it wasn’t personal—Lady Smeltings acted that way with everyone. “Striding off that way alone had us quite concerned,” she added.
“I should have told my mother of my plans. Apologies if I worried you.”
“Has a certain gentleman caught your eye?” the woman pressed. “You and your sister could share a wedding breakfast. Wouldn’t that be lovely? Everyone present would enjoy that, I’m certain.”
“That would be quite the event.” Isabelle almost choked on the words.
“Who is the lucky gentleman who has caught your eye?”
“I’m not certain just yet.” Isabelle put aside her misgivings about the lady at her side. If there was one person who knew the details of society’s doings, it was Lady Smeltings. Well-known busybodies and gossips were usually also authorities on available gentlemen, which at the moment was rather convenient. “Perhaps you could assist me on that front.”
Five minutes later, after Lady Smeltings had imparted the high points of those standards she held in perfect regard, Isabelle was rewarded with a full dance card. Perhaps her ladyship was correct and Isabelle would be married soon. Though a joint wedding breakfast with Victoria and Lord Hardaway was utterly out of the question. This evening had certainly turned in a positive direction since she had seen St. James in the crowd.
Or perhaps not…
Only a few minutes later, she was dancing the most rigid version of a waltz she’d ever experienced and on the arm of a rather severe-looking gentleman. According to her ladyship, Lord Erdway was the most generous-hearted man in town, having just returned from some charitable endeavor in the countryside. He might have a sterling character, but he’d yet to smile.
Wouldn’t benevolent gentlemen be predisposed to cheerful things like smiles? Perhaps he was only contemplating his next gift to the community. Meanwhile Isabelle was contemplating that this would be how armies waltzed if they were to dance into battle. Left, left, march, march, and take that hill with a twirl!
She smiled to herself. There would be less war if the military had dance instruction from this gentleman. No one who danced was angry enough to fight. One simply had to look around a ballroom to know that statement was true. Dancing was happy and romantic. St. James should try it sometime. And she should focus on her own dance partner, not waltzing armies, the ball around her, or her businesslike friend.
“Lady Smeltings tells me you’re only recently back in London,” Isabelle led in to begin some conversation with the man.
“That is true,” he stated as they rounded a corner of the room with a jerking motion. “I spent the past year converting one of my estates near the Welsh border into housing for children in need.”
“An orphanage?” She drew back in surprise. He cared for children who had no home of their own. She would have never guessed it of the stern man before her. “How wonderful. You have a large heart to do such a kind thing.”
“I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
“I agree,” she replied with a smile. “Once you know that someone is in need of your assistance, you could not turn your back. But the donation of an entire estate is quite the gesture. The poor dears will be well cared for now. You must be pleased.”
“Quite. Like I said before, I didn’t have a choice in the matter. But all is settled now.”
“You saw the orphanage project to completion, then? How kind you are.” Perhaps he would be a good fit for her after all. They would travel the countryside establishing charitable establishments and spreading goodwill.
“The project is ongoing,” he corrected, cutting into her thoughts. “Or perhaps it isn’t. I haven’t an idea. I sold my interest in the estate and returned to town as soon as possible.”
“Oh.” He sold his interest. But what of the children? “Is the orphanage still to open on schedule?”
“That is no longer my concern.” His harsh words about children’s welfare were the end to any musings she’d had about marriage as far as he was concerned.
“I see,” she muttered.
The remainder of the dance passed with comments about how nicely lit the ballroom was tonight, what a fine turnout there was for the event, and, for Lord Erdway’s part, how everyone should be forced to learn the proper steps to the dances or not be allowed on the floor.
When the dance ended and Isabelle was returned to the side of the room, she realized how straight her spine had been in an effort not to offend her dance partner. Not only was his giving spirit not as generous as had been portrayed by Lady Smeltings, but Isabelle also had no desire to stand like a soldier for the entirety of her marriage. She allowed his lordship to walk away as quickly as he wished. Lord Erdway, as it turned out, was not a suitable replacement for Mr. Kelton Brice, Lord Hardaway, after all.