The Wrong Woman (3 page)

Here was a man, Isobel thought, who had been born with all the advantages one needed for success in this world. He was the first son of a wealthy and titled family, had inherited a fortune, and was very handsome. The last qualification popped into her mind unbidden, but she reluctantly allowed it. Yes, he was handsome. And he dressed well. But surely the devil himself could hire a good tailor, it did not make his other activities any more acceptable.

Yet the man with all of these advantages had chosen a life of dissipation and waste. She hoped Cat would keep her reason about her and realize that Lord Revere was
not
an eligible man for her. But Isobel could not count on it.

As she watched her sister and Lord Revere take their places on the dance floor, she began a mental list of ways that she might keep Cat away from the man she disliked most in the world.

Chapter 3

“Now where has your dancing partner run off to and left you standing here waiting?”

Cat smiled as Aunt Hetty appeared at her side. She knew her beloved aunt had been keeping a careful eye on her all evening, though she tried not to be conspicuous about it.

“Lord Revere has gone to get us something to drink, aunt. He has not abandoned me.”

Aunt Hetty pretended to be shocked. “Abandoned! I thought no such thing.”

“You were surely thinking something horrible had passed. I saw the way that Izzy looked at Lord Revere when he approached me earlier. And it was hard to miss her glaring at the back of Lord Revere’s head as if she was trying to burn a hole there.”

Aunt Hetty heaved a sigh. “Pay her no attention, my dear. Your sister has disliked Lord Revere for many years.”

“I can’t understand why.” Cat gazed after the man in question whose tall form moved gracefully toward the refreshment table. Cat had been surprised to find him an elegant and powerful partner on the dance floor. She had been fascinated by the way the tails of his immaculately tailored and pressed black evening coat seemed an extension of his body as they fell back perfectly into place. Even now they swayed lightly with his movement.

And the man had a very nice face to go with his excellent tailoring. Dark brows covered eyes that seemed black. His dark hair was arranged in a stylish manner. But even with all these outwardly pleasant things, Cat had been put off by the fact that his polite smile did not reach his eyes.

“Why does Izzy dislike him?” Cat asked her aunt.

“You have heard the story of her first season?” Aunt Hetty inquired.

“I have.”

“And you have heard of her nickname?”

“Dizzy Izzy?”

Aunt Hetty nodded. “Your sister can never forgive Lord Revere for saddling her with that name.”

Cat’s eyes grew wide. “He did that?”

“I’m afraid so. He was young, as was she, and it is the kind of sport young men have with young women, especially young women like Isobel.”

“But it is so unlike Izzy to be so resentful.”

“I believe your sister thinks that Lord Revere ruined her chances of ever finding her fairy tale prince.”

“Do
you
believe that, aunt?”

She paused. “I believe that he made it harder for her to see the good in herself. And his ridicule did make it difficult for any man to approach her without facing the laughter of his peers.”

“Has he never apologized for his behavior?” Cat's brow creased in concern as she looked again at Lord Revere.

“As far as I know, no, he has not. Not in those words. But do you think your sister would accept it even if he did?” asked Aunt Hetty.

“Perhaps if she spent time with him, she would see a different side of his nature. I don't wish to believe he is as bad as Izzy thinks he is.”

“And why are you inclined to believe he is not bad? Your sister — and I will agree with her — will say that you have seen very little of town society. You do not know much about gentlemen like Lord Revere.”

Cat considered. Her aunt made a good point, but there was still something Cat could not overcome. “And my answer would that it is true I have little experience of society, but because of that, I have perhaps more faith in the goodness of people. It is a lesson I learned from Izzy herself when I was still in leading strings. She is always the first to see the good in others. So why has she refused to do so with Lord Revere?”

Aunt Hetty had mischief in her eyes. “It is a very good question, and one I believe you might ask you sister, if you are determined to reconcile herself and Lord Revere.”

“Well, he has asked to call tomorrow, so I believe she will have to learn to tolerate him. After all, she cannot object to a man who would make me an eligible husband.”

“Her objection will not be over his eligibility...”

Their attention was drawn to the raised voices coming from the direction of the refreshment table. Cat knew Izzy's voice before she'd even looked. Aunt Hetty groaned and started toward the table. She said to Cat, who followed close behind, “It seems your sister might have another objection to add to her list against your potential fiancé.

* * * * *

Isobel was only minding her own business at the refreshment table. Her friend Mrs. Keel had asked about Cat and how she was enjoying the ball. And so Isobel was in the middle of listing all the eligible men her sister had danced with that evening when she was startled by a deep voice that came from close behind her.

“You forgot about me.”

In her surprised haste to turn around, Isobel tripped on her skirt and pitched forward. Strong arms caught her, but not in time to save most of her drink from spilling down the front of her dress. The cool liquid had soaked through the thin fabric by the time Isobel gathered her wits and righted herself.

“Thank you, sir,” she said as she looked up at her rescuer. But the words died on her lips. Her eyes narrowed and she forcefully pushed herself away from him.

“Lord Revere.” The words tasted bitter.

“Miss Masters,” he gave her an infuriating smirk.

“I suppose I should thank you,” Isobel spat the words at him.

“That is customary when a gentleman rescues a lady.”

“A gentleman? Rescues?” Isobel sputtered in indignation, her voice growing louder. She knew she was drawing attention to herself, but she could not let it pass. “But you caused this! You startled me and made me spill my drink. And now this dress is ruined and it’s all your fault!” Isobel stabbed her finger towards him.

Lord Revere looked as if he was trying not to laugh. Of course he wanted to laugh at her. It was what he did, what he had always done. He enjoyed making her look ridiculous and now he was doing it again.

“Izzy?” She heard Cat’s concerned voice and felt a hand on her bare arm. “What has happened? You’ve spilled your drink all over your new dress!”

“He made me!” Isobel knew the accusation sounded childish, but she wanted everyone to know that she had not caused this. This time it was someone else. But even as the words left her mouth, she knew pointing the finger at Lord Revere was hopeless. He was not the one with punch all down his front.

“I do apologize, Miss Masters,” his deep voice rumbled through the room. “I did not mean to startle you into spilling your drink.” Lord Revere held out his handkerchief. Isobel refused to take it.

Seeing that her sister wasn’t going to accept his help, Cat took the handkerchief. “Thank you, Lord Revere. That is very kind.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Catherine,” he bowed his head to her.

Aunt Hetty added her thanks and then took Isobel by the arm. “I think it’s time for us to depart, my dear.” Cat remained behind for a moment while Isobel and Aunt Hetty made their way out of the room.

“And what was all of that about?” Aunt Hetty asked. Isobel began to huff, but her aunt interrupted her. “Forget it. I never know what that man does to raise your ire so much.”

“He exists.”

Aunt Hetty chuckled. “After ten years of watching you two circle each other, waiting for the perfect time to stick a dagger in, I think it might finally be time to consider letting go of the past.”

“You say this as I stand here with a wet and ruined dress because of
him.
I can never forgive him, aunt. It is beyond my power.”

“What is beyond your power, sister?” Cat asked as she caught up with them.

“Letting go of the past and forgiving Lord Revere for his mistakes,” Aunt Hetty answered for her niece.

“Well, sister, I am afraid you will have to learn how to tolerate him even if you cannot forgive him.”

“What?” Isobel looked sharply at her sister.

“He asked to call tomorrow, and I said yes.”

“You agreed to see him?” Isobel exclaimed.

“I did. And you now have half a day to ready yourself for his presence in our parlor.”

Isobel seethed. “I feel a headache coming on.”

“No you do not. Izzy, I insist that you be there. There's something that intrigues me about him, Isobel, and I want you to like him, too. Would you deny your sister an eligible match?” Cat batted her eyelashes.

The gesture softened Isobel a little. She knew she could make no argument to that. It was the reason for her sister being in town. And as much as Isobel didn’t like Lord Revere for his personal slights against her, she could not rightfully deny his attendance on her sister. It
would
be a good match. But that didn’t mean Isobel had to like it.

Chapter 4

Isobel had never thought to see Lord Revere in her own house. And the reality was worse than any thinking she might ever do.

Of course, Lord Revere was being the very picture of a perfect gentleman and had not said anything about the fact that his legs were almost tucked underneath him in the small room, but Isobel bristled under his silent censure anyway. She knew what he would be thinking. In her mind, Isobel began to build a defense against him.

Aunt Hetty was a society matron, but she liked her comfort even more than being strictly in fashion. And so the furnishings in the room were well-maintained but at least five years out of style. And the flowered patterns around them contrasted heavily with Revere's black outfit.

Did the man never wear other colors? Isobel supposed that black went with the color of his heart. Or at least the color of his eyes. A chill of disgust ran up her spine.

He hadn't yet done anything to hurt Cat. And the girl seemed to like him. At least she thought him a fine dancer. Cat had gotten Isobel begrudgingly to agree to this fact. As she had glared at him last night, she had at least noticed that he could move powerfully around the dance floor.

“I hope that the ball last evening was acceptable to you, Lord Revere,” Aunt Hetty said to their guest.

He replied quite properly. “Of course, Miss Masters. The Countess's ball is always more than acceptable though I did find the company this year more pleasing than ever.” He smiled. Isobel thought he looked like a cat before he ate a mouse. “I was sorry you left so early, though, Miss Masters. I had a dance reserved just for the two of us.”

Isobel's lip curled in a sneer. Did the man think that kind of flattery would work on her aunt? Aunt Hetty was certainly wiser than that.

“Now, Lord Revere,” she scolded playfully, “you know I have quite given up dancing at my age!” Aunt Hetty twittered like a young miss. Isobel could not believe it.

“Nonsense, Miss Masters, I am sure that you dance beautifully and I expect you to partner me at the next ball.”

“That is enough flattery, sir.”

Isobel would swear that Aunt Hetty was blushing. Isobel rolled her eyes but resisted saying anything.

Aunt Hetty continued. “I would much rather watch you dance with my young niece. Did you find her acceptable?”

“Aunt!” Isobel protested. Aunt Hetty sometimes took the liberty given her as one of the town's elders to utter the most brazen questions.

Isobel's indignation was interrupted by a sound that startled her into silence and drew her attention to the source. Lord Revere was chuckling! The stern, cold man was actually laughing at Aunt Hetty's question.

He leaned forward in his chair. “I shall oblige you by saying that I quite enjoyed my time with Miss Catherine. She is a delightful dancer, and I would be happy to make her further acquaintance, as evidenced by my presence here today.”

At this utterance, so well designed as to please her aunt and compliment her sister, Isobel gave a loud snort of disbelief and rolled her eyes. The unladylike noise had the disadvantage of drawing Lord Revere's black eyes to her.

“Do you not agree that your sister dances delightfully, Miss Masters?”

“Of course she does, sir. My sister does everything delightfully, and we are flattered with your attendance today.” Isobel spat out the words. “I merely had something stuck in my throat that needed clearing.” Isobel pursed her lips together in a tight smile which held such disdain that it seemed to surprise Lord Revere. For a brief moment his brow creased as if in concern. It only made her hold her head higher.

“Would you like some
tea
, Izzy?” Cat interrupted.

Isobel smiled at her sister. “Thank you, Cat, I would love some.”

Isobel reprimanded herself. This was not about her. She must try to forget her own conflict with Lord Revere and focus on putting her sister forward. Their mother would never forgive her if she ruined Cat's chances.
And besides
, she said to herself,
Cat does not deserve to end up an old spinster like me.

Cat passed Lord Revere's tea to Isobel. She counted it a small victory for her new resolve that she handed it to him without dumping the hot liquid directly in his lap.

* * * * *

The front door had scarcely closed behind Lord Revere before Cat turned to her sister and protested.

“Really, Izzy,” she scolded.

“What?” Isobel played innocent.

“I did think you might manage to be a little more civil to Lord Revere.”

“Wasn't I civil?” Isobel smiled.

“Oh, stop it, Izzy,” Cat seemed truly upset. “Don't try to pretend. Your attitude toward him spoke volumes the entire time he was here.”