Page 17 of His Graceful Duchess (A Lady’s Vow #3)

CHAPTER 17

H e had kissed her.

And now he was gone, leaving her alone with feelings she didn’t understand and didn’t even know how to name.

She swallowed hard, her hands curling at her sides. She had returned back to her chambers to try and get a hold of herself.

“Your Grace—” The sound startled her, and she nearly fell off her bed.

Mrs. Wilson stood at the door, holding a silver tray with a single letter resting on top.

“My apologies,” the maid said, her lips twitching slightly. “I did not wish to startle you.”

“Oh, it’s not your fault. I’ve just been…” Isadora pressed a hand to her chest, exhaling slowly. “Well, I’ve just been a bit frazzled today. Nothing to do with you.”

Mrs. Wilson arched a brow but said nothing, stepping forward to offer the tray. “This arrived for you, and I was told that it was most urgent.”

“Urgent?” Isadora reached for the letter, breaking the seal in one fluid motion. As her eyes skimmed over the words, she nodded in understanding. “Oh, only Violet is capable of this.”

“I am not sure if I understand, Your Grace?” Mrs. Wilson said.

“It’s a dinner invitation.” Isadora smiled to herself, setting the letter aside. “Violet and Nicholas are hosting a dinner. They’ve requested our presence. Nothing urgent, of course, but very urgent according to Violet.”

“I see. A dinner sounds lovely, Your Grace.”

“Yes,” Isadora said, more to herself than to her maid. A dinner. A proper evening in proper company. Something to occupy her mind.

That sounded like something she needed. Badly.

Mrs. Wilson gave her a sidelong glance, noticing the Duchess pacing nervously down the hallway. “If you do you not mind me asking, Your Grace, is everything well with you? I have noticed that you’ve been restless all evening.”

Isadora continued her pacing, ignoring the observation.

How would I even begin to explain?

“I suppose I have,” she said instead.

“A dinner will do you good,” the maid noted, not pushing the matter further.

“Yes. It will be… a welcome change.”

Mrs. Wilson studied her for a moment longer before dipping into a small curtsy. “Shall I have your gown prepared?”

“Yes. The deep green one.” The color that Evan likes.

“As you wish.” Mrs. Wilson excused herself, and the door closed with a soft click behind her.

Isadora let out a slow breath, smoothing her hands over her lap. She did not know how she had found herself in a situation where she could not stop thinking of Evan—all she knew was that, now that she had, she could not bring herself to stop.

Evan barely looked up when Isadora entered his study. He was sitting at his desk, his sleeves rolled up, a stack of documents spread before him.

Busy as usual, she thought to herself. The two had not spoken to each other since the kiss, and Isadora was worried that things might get awkward.

It will be fine, she reminded herself. You are here for a reason.

“Can I help you?” Evan finally broke the silence but did not look up at her.

“Yes, well. I came here to tell you something.” She cleared her throat. “We have been invited to a dinner.”

His pen didn’t pause. “Have we now?”

“Yes,” she said, stepping closer. Perhaps this did not need to be awkward at all. “Violet and Nicholas have extended an invitation at their manor.”

At that, he glanced up, his dark eyes flicking over her before returning to his work. “Do we need to go?”

“Yes,” she insisted. “I think that would be the right thing. This is their first dinner invitation to us, and I think it would be rather rude to decline it considering we do not have anything else planned for that date.”

He leaned back, stretching out his legs beneath the desk, his gaze settling on her now with vague amusement. “How do you know that?”

“I made sure to check your schedule with the staff.” She cleared her throat feeling her cheeks heat up as he looked in her direction.

“How very resourceful of you,” he murmured.

“Whatever you’d like to call it,” she sighed. “The point here is that we should go to dinner. No, we will go,” she corrected herself swiftly.

She had to learn how to assert herself in front of the Duke.

“That was rather decisive.”

“Because it is decided,” she doubled down.

“I see. And when, exactly, was this decision made?” he questioned.

“When the invitation was extended.”

“By you?”

“By them,” she corrected, narrowing her eyes. Evan was only stretching the conversation now—she could tell. It was something that he did when he wished to mess with her.

He nodded slowly, as if giving some grave thought to the matter. “But you have taken it upon yourself to enforce it.”

“Someone must.”

Evan tilted his head, studying her. “I suppose you enjoy these sorts of things?”

“Yes. And you should as well,” she said. “It would do you well.”

“That is a bold assumption to make, darling.”

Damn him.

She nearly lost her composure at that word. Instead, she drew a long breath, crossing her arms. “It is a simple dinner, not a battlefield. I only came here to inform you. I am not sure why we need to drag this on for so long.”

“I prefer battlefields,” he muttered.

Why am I not surprised in the least?

“I’m beginning to think you prefer being difficult,” she sighed. Yes, she was quite sure of that.

He let out a chuckle at that. “Took you long enough to catch on. But it is not all bad. Some might say it’s part of my charm.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “ Charm is not the word I would use.”

“Very well. That may be the case, but do not act so unaffected,” he smirked. If only he knew. “You’re determined to parade me through polite society regardless of whatever word you might have in mind about me.”

“It is not a parade. It is a dinner,” she corrected him, but there was some truth to his words as much as she hated to admit it.

“Do we need to go over lessons?” he asked. “So that I may act… properly during the dinner?”

“Oh, no,” Isadora said immediately. The idea of being alone in a room with him, giving him lessons—she just did not trust herself enough to do that again—not until she’d settled whatever strange emotions she had suddenly developed for him. “I do not think you will need that.”

“Oh?” Evan’s tone perked up immediately. “So, you believe I have improved?”

“I believe that you will do fine on your own,” she insisted. “It is only Violet and Nicholas. You know them, and they know you. So, there is no need for lessons on what is already familiar.”

“In many words, what you’re saying to me now…” Evan’s tone dripped with amusement. “… is that you trust me.”

He said the word with such ease, and yet it sent a shiver down her spine. “Trust is a rather strong word. I am just saying that Violet and Nicholas will not mind, even if you decide to behave improperly.”

He pressed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “That is a rather low bar, sweetheart.”

“Considering how much you seem to enjoy pushing the limits of propriety, I think it is fair,” she shot back, not letting him see the impact his words had on her.

“You truly think me such a lost cause?” he asked, teasingly.

Isadora took a moment to consider his words. Do I? “I suppose I’ve made my peace with it already.”

“How kind of you.” If he was offended by what she had said, he certainly did not let it show. “Well, I suppose you leave me no choice then, do you, Duchess? I will have to accompany you to this dinner.”

“Yes,” she exclaimed. Finally. He was conceding to something. And she could exit this conversation—away from him, safe from the temptations he brought along with him.

He let out a low chuckle, reaching for his pen again. “Very well. But do try to contain your excitement. I know you quite like being out in public with me.”

Isadora rolled her eyes and turned toward the door, ignoring the warmth creeping up her neck.

“Wear something nice, sweetheart,” he called after her.

This time, she did not grant him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Isadora was happy to find Daphne and Violet already standing together when she arrived at the dinner party. She had excused herself from Evan the moment they exited the carriage—not wanting to be around him when he wore his suit and looked so…

Yes, she needed to get away.

“She’s here.” Violet grinned in her direction, waving her forward. The two exchanged a hug. “Oh, you look lovely.”

“The arrangements are gorgeous.” Isadora gave a customary compliment. “As is the host.”

“It seems that the Duchess has learned the skill of flattery,” Daphne teased as she joined in with the conversation. “You are rather good at it, too.”

“Is it truly flattery?” Violet argued. “Perhaps she genuinely likes the decor.”

“Yes, but that does not mean it is not flattery,” Daphne chuckled. “Besides, I doubt you were the first recipient of her compliments tonight.”

Daphne’s mouth twisted into a smirk, as she gently nudged her friend. Isadora felt her cheeks warm.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” she dismissed. But the subtle churn in her stomach reminded her what or rather whom they were going on about.

Violet and Daphne exchanged a knowing look. “How was the ride here?” Violet asked.

“Pleasant,” Isadora said quickly. Truthfully, it had been painfully awkward. She spent the entire ride trying to avoid speaking to Evan, but they both kept looking at each other, regardless.

Daphne’s grin widened. “And how is Duke Evan?”

“You may ask him yourself if you are so curious,” Isadora shot back with a huff.

“Whoa,” Daphne stepped back slightly. “I did not expect you to be so snappy about the matter. What’s going on with you?”

Violet seemed to agree, nodding fervently. “Yes, you’re acting a bit strangely. Is there something wrong?”

“Of course not.” Isadora shook her head, but her friends remained unconvinced. Perhaps the three of them were too good friends—nothing could stay hidden between them for long.

“I do not believe I have ever seen you so… distracted at a gathering before,” Violet mused. “And it would not be wise to lie to us. So please—tell us immediately what is wrong.”

“Yes, you are rather distracted,” Daphne agreed. “When you entered with Evan, you seemed so eager to leave his company that you nearly walked into a footman.”

Isadora scowled. “That was?—”

“A coincidence?” Violet offered helpfully.

“A moment of distraction?” Daphne added.

“Nothing,” Isadora insisted. “I was just… I lost my footing. I did not know you were keeping such a keen eye on me.” Her cheeks burned as she said the words out loud.

Her friends were not convinced. Violet tilted her head, studying her carefully. “No, I do not believe her. Something is definitely going on with her. And she refuses to tell us.”

“She’s not even brought up Penelope once,” Daphne observed. “Which is unusual for her. Not even a single overprotective remark.”

Isadora shot them both a glare, but they only smiled sweetly at her in return. “Has it occurred to you that now that I am married, there might be other things to occupy my mind?”

“Of course, it has,” Violet laughed. “That is exactly what we are trying to find out here. If you would be so kind as to indulge us.”

Isadora let out a sigh of defeat. It was clear that it was impossible to hide anything from her friends. Perhaps it would actually do her some good to admit what was troubling her. She glanced around, ensuring no one was within earshot before lowering her voice. “It is not good.”

Violet and Daphne leaned in closer, the latter squeezing her hand. “Oh, darling. We were only teasing you. Has something serious happened?”

“Did you two get into a fight?” Violet demanded in an urgent whisper.

“Oh, no you both have gotten it all wrong,” Isadora hesitated, biting down on her lip. “Evan… kissed me.”

There was a beat of stunned silence, and then Daphne gasped so loudly that Isadora had to shush her.

“He kissed you? For heaven’s sake, Isadora. That is hardly the dreadful thing you are making it out to be,” Daphne said, half-chiding, half-delighted.

“She’s right,” Violet joined in. “I thought the two of you had gotten into an awful fight or something of the sort.”

Isadora remained silent though she felt her cheeks heat up.

“No need to laugh at me.”

“We are not laughing,” Daphne corrected swiftly. “If anything, we are delighted for you.”

“Yes, it is about time,” Violet noted. “I thought that it might have happened already, considering that it has been some weeks since the two of you got married.”

Isadora pursed her lips. “I did not know we were supposed to adhere to a schedule.”

If anything , she felt that she was not ready for the kiss in the slightest. So, had they been early?

“Oh, forget about that,” Violet said smoothly. “We can fret over timelines at a later time. For now, tell us everything.”

“There is nothing to tell,” Isadora huffed, wondering if it had been a wise decision to tell her friends. “It was a mistake. He apologized immediately after.”

“I am not sure if I understand you correctly?” Daphne’s lips parted in horror. “He apologized?”

Isadora nodded, looking away. “Yes, he did.” She did not know what else to add to make it better, but this was the truth.

“Ah.” Violet hummed. “Interesting.”

“Not interesting,” Isadora corrected. “It is rather maddening. What is worse is that I cannot seem to stop thinking about the whole ordeal. It is just… inconvenient.”

Daphne snorted. “My dear, there are worse things in the world than kissing your husband.”

“Yes, perhaps she should be counting her blessings instead.” Violet smirked. “Go on, then. Tell us. How was it?”

“You are focusing on the wrong details,” Isadora groaned.

“Yes, but please indulge us regardless.” Daphne leaned forward eagerly. “Did he cup your face? Hold your waist? A first kiss is always the most special of them all.”

Isadora groaned louder, covering her face. “I loathe both of you.”

“No, you loathe that you liked it,” Violet teased.

Isadora’s face burned, and she was certain she would not survive this conversation. In fact, she regretted bringing it up in the first place, for she knew that she was never going to hear the end of it now.

“Isadora. Dearest. You are allowed to enjoy being kissed,” Daphne said. “Why are you acting as though the two of you have committed some great sin?”

Isadora glared at her friend. “Because it feels like I have crossed some line I was not meant to.” Ever.

Violet arched an eyebrow. “Kissing is a normal thing, Isadora. Would you rather kiss other men?”

Isadora opened her mouth, but nothing came. The thought alone sounded ludicrous.

Daphne smirked. “Exactly.”

She groaned again, dropping her head against the wall. “What am I to do?”

“Accept that you are hopelessly intrigued,” Violet said simply.

“And perhaps kiss him again,” Daphne added with a wink and then reached for her hand, squeezing it. “It is normal, you know.”

Isadora looked at her skeptically. “To feel as though one’s entire world has tilted on its axis?”

“Yes.” Daphne smiled knowingly. “That is how it begins.”

“How what begins?”

Violet smirked. “Something worth paying attention to.”

Isadora frowned. “I do not want to pay attention to it.”

Daphne let out a laugh. “Oh, my dear Isadora, I do not think you have a choice.”

Isadora groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I really loathe both of you.”

“No,” Violet said smoothly. “You really loathe how much you liked it.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Isadora attempted to change the topic, for she was blushing red. From the corner of her eye, she could see Evan speaking to some of the other guests. “In fact, I’d much rather if we slip away for a moment entirely.”

Violet and Daphne exchanged a look amongst themselves.

“What do you say, Daph?” Violet grinned. “Should we put her out of her misery?”

“The poor girl has suffered enough, yes. She did tell us the truth as well, so I think she deserves a reward.” Daphne nodded, a teasing hint in her voice.

“Actually, I know just the thing. There is someone who has been waiting to meet you,” Violet said with a smile. “Would you like to come upstairs with me?”

Isadora brightened up immediately. “Are you…are you talking about the baby?”

“Well, it’s not the Duke…”

Isadora ignored her teasing remark. “Can we go now, please?” It had been a few weeks since Violet had given birth, but Isadora had not had the opportunity to meet the baby yet.

“Obviously. Daphne, can you excuse us for a moment?” Violet asked, and the former nodded.

“Please. Take your time.”

Violet began to guide Isadora up the stairs. “You know, I have been telling the baby all about you, actually.”

Isadora bit down on her lip. Yes, this was exactly the kind of distraction that she had hoped to find this evening. “And what, pray tell, have you been saying?”

“That you are the most elegant, practical, and terrifyingly competent woman I know.”

“Terrifyingly competent?” Isadora raised an eyebrow.

“In the best way,” Violet squeezed her arm. “Only to those who do not know you well.”

They stepped into the nursery where a nursemaid rocked a bundle in her arms near the window. At Violet’s nod, the woman gently transferred the baby into her mother’s waiting arms.

Isadora, who had not held an infant in years, suddenly felt a lump rise in her throat.

“He’s beautiful,” she murmured, watching as Violet adjusted the tiny blankets. The baby’s soft lashes fluttered against his chubby cheeks, his tiny fingers curling into a fist.

“He is,” Violet said. She turned, holding the child toward Isadora. “Would you like to hold him?”

“I….” Isadora hesitated. The last time she had held a baby was her own sister, Penelope. “What if I drop him?”

Violet shot her friend a look. “Isadora, I am sure that you are perfectly capable of holding a baby without dropping it. Go on, then. You’re his aunt. He would like to held by you.”

Isadora held her breath. “I… All right then.” She braced herself. Carefully, Violet placed the baby in Isadora’s arms.

The weight of him was slight, but Isadora still held him carefully. The baby shifted, making a small noise before settling again, his tiny hand resting against Isadora’s bodice. Something in her heart squeezed.

“He likes you,” Violet noted softly.

Isadora barely heard her. She was too busy marveling at the warmth of this tiny being in her arms.

“He is so small,” Isadora whispered, adjusting her grip slightly so that the baby rested more securely against her.

“He will not always be,” Violet said, smiling. “I will blink, and he will be running through the halls, terrorizing the staff in no time.”

Isadora chuckled softly, still rocking the baby gently. “You were always destined for motherhood, Violet. I am so happy that you have finally gotten this blessing.”

“It’s been an amazing journey,” Violet murmured. “And you will reach this milestone, too. Soon enough.”

Isadora paused at her friend’s words, a strange anxiety gripping her. “Oh, no. Evan and I… Well, we haven’t talked about this.”

“That is fine,” Violet shrugged. “One does not need to discuss everything beforehand. But I believe that you will be quite suited to motherhood. You have better training than both Daphne and me with how you took care of Penelope. You are well-equipped for loving something more than yourself.”

Isadora opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came. She looked down at the baby, at the way his tiny fingers curled slightly against her chest, and something inside her softened.

And then, it ached. Did she want this for herself? Was it even possible for her?

“I do love him,” she admitted. “Already.”

“I knew you would. You have a special bond with children.” Violet squeezed her arm. “You will be a wonderful mother one day, Isadora.”

Isadora’s breath caught, her fingers tightening slightly around the baby’s blankets. She had never truly thought about it—not in a way that felt real. But here, with the baby softly cradled against her, it didn’t seem so distant.

The thought terrified her. But even more than that—it didn’t.

She exhaled slowly, pressing a soft kiss to the baby’s forehead before reluctantly passing her back to Violet.

“I think I’ve held him for long enough,” she sighed. Any longer, and I might want to take him from you entirely.

She did not voice the latter part out loud. But the interaction had planted a small seed of wanting inside of her.

“Are you sure?” Violet asked, “He’s quite happy to be in your company as you can see.”

“I… yes,” Isadora swallowed, still feeling the warmth of the child against her skin. Slowly, she handed the child back to her mother. “But I’m glad that you brought me up here to meet him.”

If anything, it had distracted her. The thoughts of the kiss and Evan were now the furthest things from her mind. Now, she been gripped by a different kind of wondering.

What would her and Evan’s baby look like?

God. Stop that, she chided herself. She was getting too far ahead of herself, and this was dangerous territory.

“Let me take him over to the nurse, and we can head back downstairs.”

“No,” Isadora stopped her. “I need to step out into the balcony for some air. I shall meet you downstairs for dinner.”

“Are you certain?” Violet did not seem convinced.

“I am,” Isadora assured. For now, she just wished to be alone with her wayward thoughts, even if it was only for a few moments.