Duke of Decadence (Lords of Scandal 9)
He shouldn’t pay Isabella such special attention
.
It had been noted. But every time a man glanced her way, he drew her just a little closer.
Eliza’s words had reverberated in his head all day. Marry her off?
Absurd. Hadn’t that been one of his stipulations from the beginning? No other man touched her? Now the voice wasn’t calling him a fool, instead, it accused him of being a selfish bastard.
Maybe.
Probably. Selfishness was likely another family legacy passed down by his father.
They stood in the glow of the party, only a few other couples out on the terrace in the cold evening air.
“What conversation do we need to have?” she asked next to him, her face turned toward the glorious full moon.
She looked stunning in its light. “Provided your sisters aren’t too picky, they should be engaged before the month is out.”
She nodded, still not looking at him. “Thank you for your help.”
He frowned. Did she envy her sisters’ futures for which she’d sacrificed herself? “Once they are attached, your tenure at the club should end.”
She pressed her lips together. “Have I made enough profits to make the deal worth your while?”
His lips parted as he pulled back. She was worried about him? Why? She should be concerned about her own future. He leaned closer. “Ten times over.”
She smiled, just a small one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Good.”
“What of you? Has it been worth yours?”
She grimaced. “Of course. My sisters will be taken care of, that’s what is important. That’s what I wanted all along.”
“And you? If your uncle sells the house, where will you live?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter—”
“It matters to me,” he said, his words clipped. He forced himself to relax, to ease the building tension. He and his friends were getting rich, her sisters were getting married. What would she gain from this arrangement? Nothing. No marriage, no family, and certainly a life without luxuries like the beautiful gown she wore tonight.
“One of their husbands…if I were to guess it will be Eliza’s,” she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners, “will take me in.”
His mouth fell open. “That’s your plan?”
She looked at him then. “It’s not so much of a plan as a…hunch.”
“Well, I like plans. And that one is awful.” He started moving again. A slow, casual walk toward the shadows so as not to arouse too much suspicion. Though he suspected it was too late.
“Perhaps my father will return,” she said into the darkness. “He’s a good man. He’ll understand why I did what I did, and he’ll see me cared for.”
This plan was even worse than the last. Her father was most likely dead, or he wasn’t good at all and didn’t really care for his daughters. “And if he doesn’t?”
She huffed a breath then. “Have you got a better idea?”
Yes. Marry her himself.
The thought popped in his head before he could stop it. He clenched. He couldn’t marry her. She…she was already too close. Peeling past his carefully guarded self. So he borrowed Eliza’s words instead. “You should marry a man who’s a former rake. One who will understand your…colorful actions and know that it doesn’t reflect who you actually are.”
“You sound like my sister.”