Page 23 of The Duke’s Scandal (Bluestocking Book Club #5)

Chapter Seventeen

“ W hatever was Lord Welton doing?”

Isobella shook her head and then reached for her teacup.

“I do not know.” Recalling what had happened the previous afternoon, she took a sip of her tea, her brow furrowing.

“Lord Welton was quite determined to prevent Lady Deborah from speaking with the Duke. I went to speak with Lady Deborah to take her away from the conversation, for more than a few people were looking over. Then, as she and I stepped away, Lord Welton planted the Duke a facer! It was an awful thing to witness.”

“But without any real explanation?”

Isobella bit her lip. “I do recall him shouting to Lady Deborah thereafter that he was doing so because the Duke deserved it. It was certainly a very strong reaction.” And the Duke left immediately thereafter, she thought to herself, wishing he had not run from the library as he had done.

They had not spoken since then, and whilst she had felt the urge to write to him, to send a note to make certain he was quite well, she had not done so.

It would betray her heart too much, she feared.

“An overreaction, one might say,” Miss Trentworth suggested as the other bluestockings murmured their agreement. “And none of us discovered anything of interest during our search?”

Looking all around the room, Isobella’s heart sank as the other bluestockings all shook their heads.

The library had been filled with history books, all detailing the various families of the aristocracy.

Each of them had searched for something, some sort of connection that might connect Lady Victoria to Lady Clara, Lady Clara to Lady Sara, or Lady Sara to Lady Victoria in some way, but it seemed that none of them had found anything of note.

That was a little troubling, for it felt as though they were walking through clouds, having no certainty about where to put their next step.

“Lady Sara’s family is all quite respectable. None of them has any connection to Lady Clara, however.” Lady Amelia spread out her hands. “I wish there was something more to share with you than that, but there is not.”

“And the same is to be said of Lady Victoria.” Lady Rosalyn winced at Isobella’s sharp look. “Again, I wish that there had been something that caught our attention, but there was nothing.”

“ Someone must have convinced Lady Clara that the Duke of Exeter was the one who had attacked her that night.” Rubbing her hand over her eyes, Isobella’s heart twisted.

“Whoever it was had a reason for it. But now neither Lady Sara nor Lady Victoria has any connection to Lady Clara or to the Duke himself! There is no great friendship between any of these ladies, either. So why was Lady Victoria so very determined to have all of us believe Lady Clara without hesitation? ”

And what does our lack of success mean for the Duke?

Amelia closed her eyes and winced as the memory of him falling back into a bookcase, the pain tearing into his expression, ran through her mind.

She had taken a step closer, ready to go to him, but he had turned sharply and run from the library, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed.

Was that how he was to be from now on? Ashamed, hiding away, vilified by those who believed lies about him?

A thought suddenly came to her, her breath hitching. “What if Lord Welton is the one whispering rumors about the Duke?”

A few seconds of silence answered her, and for a moment, Isobella feared that she might well be mistaken in her thoughts. Then, however, Lady Amelia began to nod.

“We had not thought of him before, I know, but it would make sense, would it not? Perhaps we have been looking in the wrong direction!”

“It would make sense, yes, given that he has been so very fervent in his dislike of the Duke,” Miss Sherwood agreed, her eyes darting from one to another. “Did not the Duke say that he did not feel Lord Welton particularly warm towards him even before all of this?”

Isobella took another sip of her tea and then set her cup down. “If we suspect that it might be him, surely we must then also think that he was the one who, somehow, encouraged Lady Clara to think that it was the Duke who attacked her in the gardens that evening?”

“It could be so,” Lady Rosalyn agreed, sounding a little more excited now. “It would be understandable for it all to be the same person.”

“But why?” Isobella, leaning forward in her chair, searched every face. “Why would he do such a thing? What motivation does he have? ”

Miss Trentworth frowned. “I do not know. I am not even acquainted with the gentleman, so I cannot even imagine what motivation he might have.”

“The Duke might have some thoughts on that matter?” Lady Amelia’s question sounded innocent enough, but the glimmer in her eye was not something Isobella missed. She frowned, then flushed, wondering if the other bluestockings understood what such a look might mean.

“It would be wise to ask him,” Lady Rosalyn agreed. “Might you discuss it with him?”

“And we have not looked into the family of Lord Welton as yet either, have we?” Miss Sherwood continued, as Isobella nodded in answer to Lady Rosalyn’s question. “Might there be something we can discover from his family history that would connect him to Lady Clara?”

“Or to the Duke himself?” Miss Trentworth suggested. “It would be worth ascertaining, yes.”

Every eye turned towards Isobella, and although she had already nodded in agreement with what Lady Amelia had asked her, she did so again.

“Yes, I can speak with the Duke of Exeter and ask him if there is any connection between himself and Lord Welton and if he knows why Lord Welton seems to dislike him so.” A flurry of anticipation writhed in her stomach, but Isobella did her best not to let it show in her expression.

Nor did she let herself linger on such a feeling, fully aware as to why she felt such a way.

The Duke was becoming more and more important to her and try as she might, she could not pretend she felt nothing for him.

I must find the truth first, she thought to herself. Thereafter, there might be time for such thoughts.

“When will you speak with the Duke?” Miss Sherwood wanted to know. “Soon? ”

“This evening, mayhap,” Isobella answered. “Lord Gallagher’s ball is this evening, and I have heard it is one of the most sought-after invitations of the Season.”

Lady Rosalyn laughed softly. “It most certainly is. I confess, I am very eager indeed to attend, for I have heard there will be all manner of entertainments as well as dancing!”

Isobella smiled but had to admit that the thought of such a thing was not particularly exciting for her. The only thing that brought a little anticipation to her heart was the thought of seeing the Duke again, and that, she hoped, would be very soon indeed.

“Might I say that you look quite enchanting this evening, Lady Isobella?”

“I thank you.” Isobella gave a smile to Lord Preston but inwardly wished that he would soon step away.

The gentleman was nothing if not persistent, nearly dogging her since his arrival at the ball when he had discovered her standing at the side of the room, near to the other bluestockings. “I am sure that – ”

“Did you hear what Lord Welton did to the Duke of Exeter?” Lord Preston interrupted, speaking in much too loud a voice for Isobella’s liking.

“The Duke was speaking most disagreeably about Lady Deborah, and Lord Welton called him out! When the Duke continued to insult her, Lord Welton had no choice but to defend her – and himself, I believe.”

Isobella narrowed her eyes, her jaw tight. “I beg your pardon?”

“It is all quite true!” Lord Preston exclaimed, looking back at her with slightly widened eyes. “I am sure you will not stand up with him this evening, Lady Isobella. You will not – must not – even speak with him, for – ”

“I am astonished that you would believe such rumors, Lord Preston.” Interrupting him this time, Isobella took a step closer to the gentleman, who immediately began to frown. “Why would you say such things about the Duke of Exeter?”

“Because Lord Welton told me himself!” Lord Preston exclaimed, sounding entirely genuine, but his words struck hard at Isobella. “He is a gentleman who can be trusted, and there were many others present who heard all that took place.”

Isobella lifted her chin. “ I was one of those present, Lord Preston. It was not at all as you have described.”

The change that came over Lord Preston’s face was quite astonishing. He went from wide-eyed and hopeful to uncertain and confused. His eyebrows lowered, his mouth opened and then closed again, and his eyes darted from one side to the other.

“I heard every word Lord Welton said to the Duke,” she continued, speaking in a low voice so that only he could hear.

“I can assure you, nothing like that was said. I shall bear testament to it if I have to. Now,” she finished, angry with his presence and with his determination to believe all he had been told by others, “if you will excuse me, Lord Preston, I wish to go and find the very gentleman you think that I should not be speaking to.” Stepping away, she battled with her upset and her frustration against all that Lord Preston had said of the Duke.

This was the gentleman she cared for, the gentleman she was excited to see, the gentleman she wanted to be in company with.

She felt almost indignant that Lord Preston would even dream of speaking about him in such a way !

Isobella stopped short, her eyes flaring, her breath catching in her chest. In her heart, in her mind, she had just admitted to herself that she cared for the Duke of Exeter, that her affections were very much engaged when it came to him.

Did that mean she trusted him? That she was willing to trust him?

“Lady Isobella?”