Chapter Thirteen
Isabella watched Bash leave.
She could barely contain her heart in her chest.
She could feel her sister’s stare but she ignored it. If she looked at Eliza, her sister would know how she felt about Bash.
“I’ve good news for you, Abigail.” Eliza cut the silence with her declaration.
Isabella didn’t look over at Eliza, however. Instead, she continued to stare where Bash had disappeared.
“What’s that?” Abigail asked.
“You likely won’t be marrying the first purse that presents itself.” Eliza stood then and crossed to Isabella in the doorway. She gently touched Isabella’s sleeve. “Our sister is about to be a duchess.”
That made Isabella start, and she turned to her sister. Her jaw dropped open. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not.” Eliza gave her that smug sort of smile only an elder sister was capable of. “He’s going to marry you. And soon.”
Isabella shook her head. “He turned down my offer to be his—” She stopped short, realizing her younger sisters were listening.
Eliza’s smile only grew wider. “Because he cares too much to cast you in that role. It’s the only explanation. I’ve been wracking my brain and I can’t think of another.”
Heat coursed through her as she considered that possibility. She’d never even considered it, truth be told. “But I’m just a merchant’s daughter and he’s a—"
“He’s a man who can have whatever he wishes in this world and what he wishes for is you. I can see it. Why else would he be doing so much for us?”
Isabella shook her head. Part of her wanted to believe too. But another part cautioned herself that she was headed for disaster if she let this hope in. “If what you say is true, then why hasn’t he asked for my hand already?”
Eliza reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “If you find the answer to that question, you’ll likely break down the last of his defenses and receive an offer of marriage.”
Isabella shook her head. “I can’t risk it, Eliza. What if he leaves us the way…” She swallowed down the rest of the words. Depending on anyone but her sisters had never worked out for her.
“He’s not going anywhere.” Eliza gave a small laugh. “Lucky you. A handsome duke has fallen madly in love with you.”
Love? Was it even possible that Bash felt the same way she did?
But the sound of a carriage on the street interrupted her thoughts. Had Bash pulled around front?
Before she could even ask the question of why, banging started on their front knocker. “Open the door, now.”
Uncle Malcolm.
Fear pulsed down her overset body and she reached for the door jamb to steady herself.
“What is he doing here at this time of night?” Emily whispered as though he might hear them.
“It can’t be good, whatever it is.” Abigail stood, blowing out a candle on the table next to her. “I say we ignore him and pretend to have slept through the racket.”
“I agree,” Isabella replied. She’d learned enough about men these past few weeks to know when to leave one be. “At this time of the evening, who knows if he’s been drinking or—”
“I know you’re in there and I’ll break down the door if I have to. This house, and everything in it is mine. At least until I sell it at the week’s end. Then it will be the new buyer’s.”
Emily gasped but another set of carriage wheels could be heard on the cobblestones.
Quickly, Isabella crossed to the window. Even in the dark, she recognized Bash’s carriage.
A sigh of relief made her go limp.