A March to Marquess | A Regency Romance

Chapter Six

Isabella’s fingers played over the keys, carefully pressing each one into a chord. The chords joined together into the song. Her head cleared as she played, her practice taking over. She held her breath as she pressed the final note and waited for the reaction of the crowd.

Lady Welton was the first one to break the silence with soft clapping and the rest of the group joined in. Isabella stood up and tucked a hair that had tumbled out of her carefully styled mane into the burgundy bandeau that wrapped her head. She bowed her head and curtseyed to the crowd, thanking them for listening to her playing.

As she left the bench, the second Miss Hampton sat down and started to play a jaunty tune and the Hamptons started to sing and clap with her. She smiled in innocent youth as she played. Isabella wished she was still that age, being older isn’t nearly exciting as she had thought when she was younger.

Isabella walked over to the console table and poured herself a small dash of sherry into the decorated crystal glass. She stood back behind the crowd, watching the younger Miss Hampton play another song.

“You play adequately,” a dark voice said close to her ear. “I enjoy the passion exude as you play. I appreciate passion in a woman.”

Isabella’s breath caught in her chest. She turned her head and looked up into the eyes of the speaker. Lord Dunmore was staring down at her, his eyes dark and hardened.

His dark hair was meticulously styled, the slight wave of his hair brushed forward to sit on his forehead in a forced careless way. The style was slightly too young for a man of his age. “Well, are you going to thank me for the praise I bestow upon your skills?” He said through thin lips.

“Thank you, my lord.” Isabella said through a forced smile.

“Pray, tell me about your other accomplishments. I do believe that your father has supplied you with an ample education.”

“Yes, my father has been most wonderful,” she felt irritation creep up the back of her neck. She suppressed the feeling to run away as she looked and saw her step-mother staring at them. “I do love to read. At Oakwood I have a selection of poetry that is dear to my heart.”

Lord Dunmore looked at her. She hoped that Lady Welton’s comment about men not liking women who read too much would be true. She needed to be undesirable and do the opposite of everything she was taught without bringing too much suspicion to her.

“I see. Is there anything else you are interested in? What is it you females do? Floral arranging, needlepoint…painting perhaps?”

“Yes, I do appreciate painting whenever I have a canvas. What about you, Lord Dunmore? Do you appreciate horses?”

“What a foolish question," he said with a slight scoff. "Of course. I have a stable full of the finest horses. They are well taken care of by my grooms. When you visit my fine estate, I shall show you them. I will even teach you the proper way to ride.” The edges of his mouth twisted into a slight grin. “I have appreciated this conversation. I shall call on you soon.”

With that, he walked towards her father. They disappeared into his study as Miss Hampton finished playing. Isabella walked towards the front of the room and stood next to her step-mother. Lady Welton turned towards Lady Hampton, “I do believe your daughters will be desired when they are introduced at their first Season, you should be very proud.”

Lady Hampton beamed pink. “Thank you, Lady Welton. ’Tis an honor coming from you.”

The party made their goodbyes as they trickled out of the house. Lord Dunmore was the last to leave.

“Your generosity is unmatched, Lady Welton. Many compliments to you on your hosting abilities.” This elicited a slight smile out of Lady Welton and a slight pink blush spread across her cheeks. Visibly happy with the compliment. “Lord Welton, I appreciate your input on my recent business acquisition. I do hope it will be prosperous to us both.”

He looked at Isabella. “I am happy to have your introduction, Miss Isabella. I do hope we can meet again soon.” He slid his top hat on his head and pulled his overcoat over his broad shoulders. “I bid you adieu and goodnight.”

When the heavy door closed, Lord Welton spoke to Isabella. “Isabella, can you please meet me in my study?” She looked at Lady Welton and back to her father.

“Yes, of course father.”

The walk to her father’s study felt like eternity. Each step seemed like a step to her own personal grave. Her father was like the undertaker, escorting her to the dark cavernous depths of the underworld.

“Please sit,” he motioned to the leather arm chair in front of his dark wood desk in the corner of the library. Isabella stood next to the chair. Bracing herself for what her father was going to say.

“Your mother and I have decided to let you enjoy your Season, Isabella,” she bit the inside corner of her mouth to keep from reacting to him calling Lady Welton her mother once again. “I do not want to withhold that from you, but it appears as if Lord Dunmore would like to offer marriage to you. I do say that I approve of this match.”

The blood rushed down from Isabella’s head. Her father started to dim as a darkness clouded over her vision. It suddenly felt like her stays were too tight. In an echo, she heard her father call for the smelling salts.

Isabella came to consciousness on the floor of the library. Her step-mother was holding the vial under her nose. The acrid stench burned and she coughed.

“She must be excited about the news, darling.” Lady Welton said. “Isn’t that right, Isabella?”

Isabella nodded. Still unclear of the events taking place. Her father helped her back to her feet.

“Let’s get you to your room,” Lady Welton grabbed Isabella’s arm to steady her. “Please ring for a bath for her. I do believe it is time to retire.”

Lady Welton helped Isabella into her room and turned her over to Matilda. The rest of the routine was a daze as she was tucked into bed and fell asleep with a slight throbbing behind her eyes.