Once a Duchess(66)

 

She exited the room only slightly faster than her normal, stately pace. Naomi gave Marshall a questioning look. He nodded. “It’s your decision. This is still your home.”

 

Naomi smiled gratefully. She squeezed Isabelle’s hand and then followed her mother, leaving Marshall and Grant with the Fairfax siblings.

 

Marshall took several deep breaths until his blood pressure returned to something approaching normal.

 

“Grant, would you excuse us?”

 

“Actually,” Isabelle said, rising from the sofa, “I’d like to go now. Please take me home, Alex.”

 

No! She couldn’t leave now — not after he’d just done battle on her behalf. “There are things we must discuss.”

 

She shook her head. “Everyone’s said quite enough tonight. I accept your apology.” The smile she gave him was strained. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited to hear it. But now that I have … ” One slender shoulder shrugged.

 

Alex offered his arm.

 

She pinned Marshall with a weary look. “Please don’t issue me any more invitations. They aren’t good for either of us.”

 

Marshall bit back a growl of frustration. Why was she suddenly so blasé? If he could just get her alone, he could talk some sense into her — or kiss some sense into her, should talking fail.

 

As they reached the door, Marshall called, “Fairfax! Please, a word.” Alex murmured something to Isabelle. She nodded and continued down the hall, while Alex remained in the library.

 

“Grant.” Marshall jerked his chin to the door. His brother’s jaw tightened, but he nodded and left the two men alone.

 

Alex stood in the middle of the room, hands deep in his pockets. “Monthwaite?”

 

“With your permission, I’d like to call on Isabelle.” Alex raised an eyebrow, but otherwise gave no response. Both men knew such a request was as good as a declaration of courtship. Marshall couldn’t hold back a short, bitter laugh at the irony of having to request to court the woman to whom he’d already been married.

 

“Considering what Isabelle just said,” Alex finally replied, “I don’t think that would be wise.” He pulled a hand from his pocket and rubbed the flat of his palm against his jaw.

 

Marshall grimaced at the knowledge that Isabelle’s brother found him unworthy of her. “I understand.” But he didn’t. Being found lacking by others was a new experience. He despised it. Yes, he’d done wrong, but he would fix everything.

 

Fairfax turned to leave again.

 

“I meant what I said — I’m going to apologize,” Marshall stated. The other man slowly pivoted to face him. “If that’s not enough, if Isabelle still won’t see me, I want to make amends. Her settlement, from our marriage contract,” he touched his fingertips to his chest “I want her to have it.”

 

Fairfax’s jaw slackened. “The money, you mean?”

 

Marshall nodded.

 

“A quarter million pounds, if memory serves?”

 

Marshall nodded again.

 

Alex’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why not write a draft for it now?”

 

“Ah.” Marshall smiled briefly. “I’d like to have the chance to give it to her properly.”

 

Fairfax’s brow shot up. “You mean to marry her, then?”

 

The thought of marriage still made him skittish; but marry he must, and it might as well be to the only woman he’d ever thought of as his wife. “We were off to a good start. And it seems like the right thing to do, after all the trouble I’ve caused.”

 

“I don’t know if she’ll have you,” Alex answered. “And I won’t make her.”

 

“Of course not.” Marshall shook his head. “But I’d like to try.”

 

Alex rocked back on his heels. “All right, then. All the money in the world won’t make us respectable if people still believe she’s an adulteress. Clear her name, Monthwaite, and then we’ll talk about rides in the park.”

 

Marshall extended his hand, hope sparking within him. “Fair enough.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

Isabelle grimaced at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a half-dead rat the cat dragged in. Dark circles hung under her eyes like carpetbags, and her lids were puffy. Despite having slept hours later than normal, she felt like she hadn’t slept in a week.

 

She picked up her brush from the vanity and made a half-hearted attempt at working through her bedraggled tresses. Encountering a tangle, she struggled against it until tiny beads of sweat popped out on her forehead; she slammed the brush down with a curse. Would it really bankrupt Alex to hire her a maid? Lily had made her own available to Isabelle, but she hated to take advantage of her friend’s generosity.