The Rakehell of Roth (Everleigh Sisters #2) - Amalie Howard Page 0,87
you know Winter owned it?”
She shook her head. “News to me, and I’m your older sister, Izzy, not a nun.” Her lips curled with a pointed glance to her swollen belly. “Obviously.”
“I don’t need to know the sordid details of your love life!” She sipped her tea and pulled a grimace. “Gracious, don’t you have anything stronger? I suddenly feel the need to wipe these images of you and Beswick conceiving my newest niece or nephew from my brain.”
She was only half joking. Her gaze slid to Astrid’s bump, nearly obscured by the clever design of her dress. One wouldn’t guess she was with child unless one looked, but pregnancy made her sister radiant. Isobel was unprepared for the brutal stroke of envy that slashed through her. She’d always hoped for children of her own, but that dream was now well and truly out of reach.
“Shouldn’t you be entering your confinement?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Shortly, in a few weeks or so. I feel ridiculously healthy.”
Isobel frowned. “What made you want to make the journey to London?”
“No reason,” her sister said quickly and reached to pour a fresh cup of tea, though she was impeded by her protruding stomach. Isobel grinned and took the teapot from her, refilling both their cups. “Can’t a girl simply want to see her sister?” Astrid asked.
“Not when she’s about to pop, no.”
The duchess chuckled, though she avoided Isobel’s eyes. “I’m weeks away from popping, trust me. I needed a break from the tedium of North Stifford. In any case, Pippa was late in arriving. I assume this one will be as well. I am in no danger, other than being in constant need to relieve myself.”
“Where is my darling niece?” Isobel asked. “Did she accompany you and Beswick?”
“No, though she was dreadfully disappointed to miss out. She’s missed you terribly.” Astrid peered at her over the rim of her teacup. “How has it been, besides your errant husband, of course? Have you seen anyone of note? Any familiar faces?”
It was a rather odd question. Who exactly did Astrid expect her to see? Isobel didn’t know anybody. She thought back to the time she might have glimpsed the Earl of Beaumont, and shook her head. It was no use bringing him up—it would only upset Astrid. Even if he were here, her sister had Beswick, and Isobel had the protection of Winter’s name, if not the man himself.
She sighed and thought about the rest of Astrid’s question. “The season hasn’t been what I expected. It’s exhausting for one. A never-ending carousel of balls and musicales and soirees, all designed to make a girl positively fed up. I miss the country and the fresh air, and being myself.”
“And yet, here you are, still in London,” Astrid pointed out. “When your own husband is telling you to go back to Chelmsford, which seems to be what you claim to want. So, which is it, sister? Roth or Chelmsford?”
Isobel resisted the urge to stick out her tongue in a childish gesture. Astrid had always been able to cut right to the heart of the matter. “I don’t know. Both, perhaps.”
Astrid canted her head. “Do you like Roth?”
“Sometimes, he’s affable.”
Her sister’s brows rose. “Affable?”
“Fine,” she mumbled. “On occasion, he’s clever and thoughtful, and I enjoy his company. Especially when he doesn’t know it’s me.”
Isobel blushed as her sister shot her a questioning look. She hadn’t meant to allude to her secret persona as Iz, but now the cat was out of the bag. And besides, it was probably a good thing, since Iz had supposedly worked for Beswick. In a few short words, she explained how Iz, the groom, had come to be, watching as her sister’s eyes grew into surprised orbs.
Staring at her, Astrid shook her head in mute fascination. “Sometimes, you astound me.”
Isobel bit her lip. “It wasn’t my fault. It just happened. I couldn’t well tear off the mask, dressed like a man wearing breeches in the middle of the dratted courtyard!”
“You could have confessed later.”
Isobel lifted a shoulder. “I liked it,” she admitted. “I liked him talking to me without those walls he surrounds himself with. I saw a side of him that I never expected.”
“Does he know about Lady Darcy?”
She shook her head hard. “No, and he will never find out!”
Concern flashed on Astrid’s face. “Secrets have a way of coming out, Izzy, you know that. It’s better to be truthful before they have a chance to hurt you or anyone you care about.”