Once a Duchess(29)
Lily wrinkled her nose. “Too cold a color for summer.”
Intrigued by the mysterious Mr. Reeves, Isabelle cut a sideways glance at her friend as she returned the gloves to the table. “Has any particular gentleman captured your notice?” At Lily’s wary expression, she continued, “We’ve not been here long, but with you new to town, you must be — ”
“I’ll have you know,” Lily said in a querulous tone, “I’ve no intention of marrying just yet, and I’m under no pressure to do so. Father has decided to let me choose my husband this time — provided he has a title. I find myself not knowing very much about the opposite sex, and I intend to take my time in learning so I might make a sound choice.” Her plum mouth twisted in a smirk.
Isabelle caught the bitter edge to Lily’s last words. Mister Reeves didn’t fit the one requirement Mr. Bachman had placed on Lily’s marriage, then. She smiled sympathetically at the taller woman, but Lily just cleared her throat and returned to the task at hand.
“Do you like these?” Lily pointed to a pair made of pink lace.
“Pretty, but not practical for riding.”
“Isabelle? Lord, is it really you?”
Isabelle swung around to see a lovely young lady wearing a fashionable sprig muslin frock, a breezy white pelisse, and a pale pink bonnet accented with white ribbons and daisies. There was something familiar about her face, but Isabelle couldn’t quite place her. The gentleman standing at her elbow, glowering at Isabelle, she recognized at once: Grant Lockwood, Marshall’s younger brother. Which would make the young woman —
“Lady Naomi!” Isabelle forced a bright smile to her face. “What a delightful surprise,” she lied.
The girl beamed as though they were the closest of friends; all the while her brother’s expression vacillated between a strong desire to flee, and an equally strong desire to wring Isabelle’s neck.
“It’s been ever so long since I’ve seen you.” The girl stepped forward and actually took Isabelle’s hands in her own. “I wondered if you would remember me.”
“Indeed,” Isabelle said, her alarm increasing with every passing moment, “I scarcely recognized you. You’ve grown up since we last met. How very pretty you are looking.”
Naomi’s open countenance bespoke nothing but goodwill. Could it be that not the entire Lockwood family held Isabelle in the lowest possible esteem? Isabelle’s nerves began to relax somewhat.
“Lady Naomi,” Isabelle said, “please allow me to present my friend, Miss Bachman. Miss Bachman, Lady Naomi Lockwood.” She did not miss the startled expression that flitted across Lily’s face for an instant before her friend turned a sociable smile on Naomi.
Naomi introduced Lily to Grant, who bowed stiffly. He had a brusque greeting for Isabelle.
“This is just too delightful,” Naomi gushed, looping her arm through Isabelle’s. “Tell me, where are you staying?”
“With the Bachmans,” Isabelle replied, inclining her head toward Lily.
“How marvelous,” Naomi said. “I do hope I’ll see you soon.”
Isabelle’s smile faltered. “That’s kind of you, Lady Naomi, but I rather doubt it. I don’t move in the same circles as you.”
Behind Naomi, Grant cleared his throat meaningfully.
Naomi took Isabelle’s hands in hers again, and squeezed them. “It’s been lovely to see you again, Isabelle.” She nodded to them both, then left the shop with Grant.
Isabelle stared after her, unnerved by the encounter.
“Well!” Lily exclaimed. “There’s something we didn’t expect when we left home this morning.”
Isabelle gave her friend a wry smile and shook her head. “I’m surprised Lady Naomi even recognized me. I met her on several occasions, of course, but she was much younger, and it’s been three years.”
She returned her attention to selecting a new pair of gloves. Much of the delight she’d felt in the task had gone. Finally, she settled on a mauve pair to complement her new riding habit. “Still,” she said after they’d stepped back into Bond Street, “it is gratifying to know Naomi has not been entirely poisoned against me.”
“Not at all,” Lily replied. “In fact, she seemed perfectly at ease. She greeted you like a long-lost friend, not as a woman who made a fool of her eldest brother. Lord Grant, however … ” Her voice trailed away.