And I already miss it…
He had kissed her because he had wanted to. He had kissed her because she had captured his heart. He had kissed her because she was the only woman in the world who could make him give up that vow. He had kissed her because hehadwanted more, and he had fumbled it completely.
Now, he would have to watch another man take his place. Ifthatwas not punishment in its most ironic form, he did not know what was. But he didknow that it was going to hurt like nothing he had ever felt before.
Being seated in the same spot on the settee, with the same cup and saucer in her hands, drinking the same lukewarm tea, Isolde had to wonder if she was stuck in some bizarre dream. A nightmare of unsatisfying marriage proposals on a ceaseless cycle.
“Is that him?” Her mother, seated beside her, snapped her head up at the sound of a carriage rattling by the drawing room windows.
Isolde took a sip of the cooled tea. “I assume he will knock, Mama. Are you trying to make me nervous?”
It had been five days since Vincent had ushered Edmund in to make his offer of a marriage of convenience. She had seen him twice in the interim: once at the opposite end of a long dinner table, once from afar, at a sedate gathering that did not have enough guests to be called a ball. On both occasions, despite everything, she had hoped he might engage her in conversation or ask her to dance, but he had kept his distance, just as he had said he would.
“Goodness,Iam nervous,” Vincent chimed in with a laugh, brushing his palms against his waistcoat as if they were clammy. “Yet, if I may say so, you look rather calm, Isolde.”
Isolde shrugged. “I see no reason to fret. After our discussion at the theater last night, I am certain he will propose today, and I know what I wish to say, so there is nothing to worry over.”
And I do not care enough to be nervous,she neglected to add.
She adored Noah, and looked forward to spending time with him, but it was not a romantic affection. It was more like the relationship she had with Vincent, like siblings. She felt nothing when Noah accidentally brushed her arm or bumped into her or swept back a lock of her hair. Her heart did not skip a beat whenshe held his arm during a promenade, or she looked up into his eyes.
“But you have been obsessing over this day for years,” Vincent pointed out, observing her with bemusement. “This is what you have been working toward—a dream realized.”
She put on a smile. “And I am telling you, I feel no reason to be nervous. If you know it is the right thing for you, how can there be nerves?”
The knock they had been waiting for sounded throughout the townhouse, and though Isolde jumped at the noise, the knowledge that Noah had arrived still did not stir up any anxious anticipation. In truth, she was just eager to get it over with. The sooner she was married and committed to her decision, the sooner she could begin life anew, perhaps finding a different dream along the way. One that might come true, this time.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” Noah chirruped, ushered into the drawing room by the housekeeper.
He stood by the door for longer than expected, holding his hat in front of his stomach, fidgeting with the edges. Clearly,hehad not escaped the day’s bout of nerves, his brow glistening with sweat though it was not too warm outside.
“Good afternoon, Noah,” Isolde replied, offering a smile.
Noah glanced at Vincent and Isolde’s mother, a line of confusion appearing between his eyebrows. “Are you both going to remain here?” he asked awkwardly, shuffling further into the room. “Or should I request a moment alone? I do not mind, either way.”
“It is nothing they do not already know, Noah,” Isolde said with that same, patient smile. “Do not be anxious. You have no need to be.”
His throat bobbed as he edged ever closer, though he did not sink to one knee as he ended up in front of her. Instead, somewhat clumsily, he stood with the backs of his calves pressed against the edge of the tea table, peering down at Isolde from his not insignificant height.
“Well then…” he said, his voice cracking. “Apologies, I have not done this before.”
Isolde laughed softly. “Take your time. There is no rush.”
He cleared his throat and gripped the edges of his hat tighter. “Lady Isolde, I was… um… wondering if you would grant me the pleasure of… uh… consenting to be my wife?”
“Of course, Lord Mentrow,” she answered without a moment’s hesitation, for she had already spent five nights going back and forth, tying herself into knots about how to proceed.
Every possibility had screeched to the same outcome: she either married Noah or she returned to sifting through suitors, withoutthe keen eye of Edmund this time. And if there was no one suitable, she would have to wait until next Season, disappointing her family in the process. Ifthatwas not a success, she would be firmly on the road to spinsterhood, which was something she simply could not do.
Noah seemed surprised, looking to Vincent for some kind of confirmation. “Is that it, then? Are we engaged to be wed?”
“You certainly are,” Isolde’s mother crowed, clapping her hands together.
Indeed, she appeared to be the only one thrilled by the occasion. Isolde felt nothing but a faint relief, Vincent had suddenly turned pensive, and Noah looked like he might keel over if he did not get away from the drawing room soon.
“Splendid! In that case, I shall… speak with my family, and we must arrange a dinner or something of that ilk, to make arrangements and to ensure that everyone is acquainted,” Noah said, relaxing slightly, as if he had just had to undertake a less than pleasant task that he had been putting off for a while. “Isolde, I… um… I am glad that you accepted. I look forward to… well, marrying you.”
Isolde smiled. “Likewise.”
