"Quite a spectacle on the ballroom floor. They should be ashamed to act so in public."
"No, Lady Isabella is new. Where his grace found her, I haven't a clue. But they seem a little too familiar."
"Scandalous how they danced. Simply scandalous!"
Izzy's face burned. It was surely red. Should she act like she hadn't heard them? A quick glance to her left told her everyone near had heard. What should she do? Had she and Charles danced inappropriately? She'd been so focused on him she hadn't paid attention to how they might have appeared to the ton.
Charles stopped walking and angled toward Izzy. Taking her hands in his, he said, "Lady Isabella, I think it is time to escort you home. Come, let us depart from this… place."
Gasps of horror zipped through the crowd.
"Did you hear him?"
"How rude!"
"Such behavior from a duke. Dancing so close, then insulting the ton!"
Izzy hurried behind Charles as he picked up his pace. The set of his shoulders showed tension. He was angry. Was it on her behalf? While she was flattered, she also felt as if she'd let him down. Embarrassment had rained down upon him and his reputation because of her. If they had been in her time, nothing they'd said or done would have caused a ripple of notice from anyone, here everything was scrutinized and dissected. While dancing with Charles, Izzy hadn't meant to be so close to him. It just seemed… right.
Charles led Izzy to the Kringles. After thanking them for their hospitality, their coats were fetched by the butler. Charles took her hand, leading her down the steps. They'd not spoken a word to each other since the dance. She knew he was angry. Was it directed at the ton or at her?
She swallowed hard. It had never been her intention to hurt him. Now, recognizing her feelings for him as being love, her heart felt it would break. Tears threatened to squeeze past her eyelids. Izzy kept the tears back by holding her eyes shut for a moment.
She stood outside the gate while Charles flagged down their driver. Until then, Izzy hadn't given a thought to where the driver had been. The poor man must have sat in the coach nearby just waiting for Charles' signal when they were ready to leave. As the carriage pulled up, Charles took her hand in his. He wouldn't make eye contact with her. Had she ruined any chance for them to be together now that she'd realized she loved him?
Charles helped Izzy climb into the carriage then followed her. He sat on the opposite seat, looking out the window at the bright starry night. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was, but the words died on her tongue. What could she say? She'd ruined his chance of ever being comfortable with his friends again. Would he ever forgive her?
Just when she feared he wouldn't speak, he angled closer but kept his gaze on his knees. "Isabella, please forgive me."
"What?" Surely she hadn't heard him correctly.
"I've treated you unfairly."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"It was to be your special night. Your first ball."
"That doesn't matter to me. I did this for you." Izzy reached out a hand to him then pulled it back.
He raised his glance to her. "But—"
"The only reason we're here is so your uncle would leave you alone about finding a wife, remember?"
He shrugged. "I think I lost sight of the fact as we prepared for the ball. With the dancing, the plan of what we would tell the ton, it all seemed to—"
"Fall away?"
He nodded. "Yes. Exactly. So you're not angry?"
"I thought you would be. With me."
"Oh, Isabella. Not with you. Never with you."
He's not upset with me!
"Then…" She lifted her hand, palm up.
Charles aimed his thumb toward the back of the carriage. "Those people back there. Close-minded and narrow-focused. They have no decency or compassion. If something or someone doesn't fit their tiny idea of propriety, they ridicule and point fingers."
Izzy frowned. "While I didn't like hearing them talk about us like they did, believe me, I've heard much worse."
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "I wanted to remove you from the situation before it escalated. If we had stayed, they would have eventually pressured you, us, with so many pointed question and accusations, it would have been uncomfortable at best, and extremely hurtful otherwise. I've seen people, men and women alike, reduced to sobs from the venom the people of the ton can spew."
Izzy shook her head. "My word, how do you call them your friends if they're like that?"
"They are not my friends. Friends should be trustworthy, honest, kind."
Izzy felt the corners of her mouth lift. "Like you. You're all those things."
He took her hands in his and cleared his throat. "I thought, that is to say, I hoped…"
"You hoped what?"
He squeezed her hands gently. "That you and I were more than friends."
"You did?" Can it be true?
He nodded. "And you?"