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There I was, sitting in a box at the Royal Opera House, attempting to enjoy my evening. Adorned in an expensive new evening gown, I had to admit that I looked stunning. Lord Ridley, who now insisted that I address him as Edward, repeatedly complimented me on my new finery. When Father saw the bill, though, he showed less pleasure. Perhaps I did spend a tidy sum, thinking it apt punishment for his manipulation. Regrettably, I had come to the snarly conclusion that most men were schemers. Even Reginald had attempted to influence me to do the right thing.
When intermission arrived, I rose to my feet to stretch my legs. My intentions were to run to the ladies’ powder room and spend the next twenty minutes hiding from my escort. Edward apparently had other things in mind.
“Stay,” he said, reaching out and grabbing my hand. “I wish to talk.”
“About what?” I flashed a disgruntled look, conveying my annoyance. Ignoring me, he pulled me back until I felt forced to sit again.
“Talk with me,” he implored. “We have spent hours together already this evening, and you have barely uttered two sentences.”
I had been overly quiet and uninterested in Edward’s company. My mind would not stop thinking of Reginald. Nevertheless, having been schooled to be a lady, I had to admit that my behavior bordered on rudeness.
“I apologize,” I said, straining to keep eye contact with him.
“You are struggling. I understand,” he said. “If you would just surrender, Isabella, you would feel more at ease,” he entreated in a softly spoken tone. It did nothing to help his raspy squeak of a voice.
Surrender? I stiffened instead. I didn’t wish to give in to his advances. All I wanted was Reginald, but the gulf between us loomed even wider as I sat there with no other options to pursue. Regardless of how kind and attentive Edward had played his part, I felt we were out of tune on so many levels. The aristocrat before me had nothing that I wanted, except one thing.
“Do you really know where she is?”
The charm he had wielded earlier evaporated. His eyes grew dark as he warily looked at me. Underneath his tender pretense, I saw an exasperated man.
“And if I told you, would that make any difference?”
“What do you mean?”
“Would you allow me to love and marry you?”
He studied my reaction, but I merely recoiled at the thought.
“She is closer than you think,” he said, teasing me even further.
In my mind’s eye, I could see him dangling happiness before me like a bright, shiny diamond. Torn between my love for Reginald and love for my daughter, I inhaled a labored breath. The beating heart in my chest had been wounded time and again. I wanted Reginald, but I wanted to know of my daughter’s welfare. Edward’s eyes kept a steady stare on me as I contemplated my options.
“I’m weary,” I replied glibly. “You offer your love, but I am in love with another man who I’m forbidden to see.” Tears stung my eyes. “And now you tempt me with the singular promise of revealing my daughter’s whereabouts. It’s cruel.”
“Love can be cruel,” he replied coldly. “Nonetheless, Isabella, you must confess that when you gave yourself to a stable boy with no thought of consequences, you gave away more than your body. You relinquished your free choice in all aspects of your life, which changed its direction.” He hesitated for a moment and then continued. “Is it a wonder that your father insists on making decisions for you after the poor choices of your past?”
His words pricked my heart. They were truthfully brutal. Nevertheless, I paid my price and matured as a result of it of that I was sure. I had evolved into a woman. Now a choice remained—what kind of woman would I be going forward? There were two options. A submissive girl or an independent female.
At that moment, the lights dimmed and my opportunity to escape to the powder room had vanished. Edward continued to hold my hand, rubbing his thumb across my flesh as if to soothe my sorrows. I turned and looked at him. Would it be so difficult to fall in love with another man? After all, he was titled, handsome, and wealthy, although I thought him rather of a serpent in character with a squeaky voice. The man knew what he wanted, which was more than I could say for myself. Did he possess the power to turn my heart from Reginald and give me the chance to see my daughter? I would never know unless I surrendered.
The remaining acts of the opera ensued, but like the first half, I found my mind wandering and not paying attention. As I heard the voice of the soprano reach the high notes, I relegated my struggle to an out-of-tune aria. There I was on stage. In the audience sat my parents. Reginald took a seat next to my mother while Edward sat next to my father. To be honest, I could never keep a tune, and I knew as soon as I opened my mouth they would laugh at my terrible pitch. Yes, my life had no harmony, and I needed to make a decision.
The performance ended, and Edward held out his hand to help me from my seat. When I glanced in his eyes, he had returned to an attentive escort. An adoring smile curled the corner of his lips, and for some odd reason, I returned the gesture.
“We should catch a cab, or we will be late for our dinner reservations,” he said, gesturing toward the exit.
“Of course.” His hand slipped gently around my waist to guide me into the hallway, and afterward, he offered his arm. As we traversed the crowded hallway, I scanned the crowd, hoping to see Reginald. Naturally, I knew it would be highly unlikely to cross his path. Perhaps inwardly I wanted him to arrive as my knight in shining armor on a white horse to rescue me from this road I found myself walking. When we climbed into the cab, I pushed aside the foolish thought because no one would save me from the decision I needed to make.
****
AFTER SURVIVING THE evening with Edward, I woke up the next morning with a slight headache, attributing the pain to too much champagne at dinner. The thought of hiding under my down-filled blanket the entire day felt tempting. Regrettably, in my alcohol stupor, I had agreed to another engagement with Edward. As I glanced at the clock, I moaned at the hour. He would arrive at nine o’clock to take me to West Sussex, two hours away. Another important horse competition, the Goodwood Glorious, was in its fourth day of events. This particular track, owned by the Duke of Richmond, had also garnished aristocratic popularity over the years. The affair wasn’t as formal as the Royal Ascot, but I needed to dress appropriately and choose a hat. As I glanced at the window, I could see the sun seeping through the crack of the closed curtains. The English rain hadn’t arrived to give me a reprieve.
A soft knock came at the door, and I heard Mother’s voice.
“Isabella, are you awake?”
“Yes,” I groaned. In an attempt to get out of bed, I swung my legs around and sat on the edge. Mother, rather than waiting for an invitation to enter, did so anyway. Her familiar sour facial expression beamed with anticipatory glee.
“Did you have a pleasant evening last night?”
“Somewhat,” I answered, not giving her the satisfaction of bustling with delight over the affair.
“And today?”
“He is picking me up this morning to drive to West Sussex,” I responded, twisting my lips in protest.
“Oh yes, he mentioned his plan to take you with him to the Goodwood races.”
“I should think you would mind that he’s spiriting me off out of town for a day trip.” My motives were to incite worry in my mother regarding his behavior. Perhaps she would put a halt to the journey.
“No, not at all.” She nonchalantly brushed off my comment. “There is a vast difference in character, Isabella, if you haven’t noticed already, between stable trash and peers. Father and I trust him explicitly.”
I don’t, I thought to myself. A man is a man regardless if his trousers are from rags or riches. Nevertheless, I had already decided that if Edward did try anything, his nose would meet my clenched fist.
“If you would excuse me,” I responded with a gloomy tone, “I need to get ready.” I rose to my feet, avoiding eye contact.
“Well then, have a safe and enjoyable trip,” she replied formally. Our seething animosity for one another chilled the air. As she retreated and closed the door behind her, I struggled to find an ounce of respect for the woman who had given me birth. We were vastly different from one another, and I amusingly wondered if I, too, had been adopted.
I pondered the day ahead as I bathed and dressed, attempting not to be late for the lord’s arrival. My thoughts turned toward Reginald, reminding me that my heart remained wrapped in the agony of separation and despair. My yearning to be in his presence had not ceased, and I struggled with the situation that pulled me in the opposite direction.
After an hour of preparation, both physically and mentally, I descended the stairs to grab a quick bite to eat before Edward arrived. As I entered the dining room, to my surprise he sat at the table with my parents, drinking coffee and chatting. I halted at the threshold, cursing inwardly that my companion had already arrived. He lifted his head, and when he saw me, he rose to his feet.
“Good morning,” he greeted with a sly smile.
“You’re early,” I replied, giving him no other comment in return. After I had retrieved a small portion of food, having lost my appetite, I sat down at the table across from him. My overt avoidance triggered my father to brandish me a disappointed look. He returned his attention to Edward.
“What horse are you betting on?”
“Well, I’ve missed the first few days,” he complained. “It’s the Chesterfield Cup today. I’ve had my eye on Irongrey, so I’ve placed a hefty bid on him to win.”
“I lost a tidy sum at the Ascot,” Father bemoaned. “If I give you a hundred pounds, will you put it on your favorite?”
“Absolutely,” Edward replied. “To win?”
“Yes, to win.”
Father handed him the money, and Edward slipped it into his pocket. It annoyed me how the two bantered between one another like old friends. Lord Ridley had weaseled his way into my family quickly, deepening relationships to his advantage.
The clock on the fireplace mantel chimed the nine o’clock hour. I pushed my plate away when I realized that my appetite had vanished after a few bites.
“We should be going,” he said. He glanced at me and smiled warmly. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, let me get my hat and purse.” Before I could push back my chair and rise, he had briskly moved behind me to help.
“Have a good day,” my father said. He gave us both an approving look.
“When shall you be home?” My mother posed a surprising question.
“I should have your daughter back no later than ten o’clock this evening.”
The entire day stretched before me like an eternity in purgatory. I ran upstairs to retrieve my things and returned a few minutes later to Edward waiting in the foyer.
“You look charming,” he replied. “Nice bonnet.”
“You look rather well-groomed yourself,” I replied, surprised at the Panama sun hat he had donned. “No top hat?”
“Absolutely not at the Goodwood. Must keep up the fashion of Edward VII. He’s the standard.”
He flashed a toothy grin, wielding his charm, causing me to roll my eyes. Apparently, the man had planned to smother me today with his honey sweetness to gain my affection. My singular goal had been to resist him at all cost, but as we climbed into his car, I felt my resolve falter. The day would be long and challenging, of that I was sure.
