A Poisoned Season by TASHA ALEXANDER Read Free Book Online Page A

acquaintance. Nonetheless, I had no desire to shun her when she was so distressed; if anything, this was an opportunity to make up for all the times when I’d shooed her away. I sat her next to Cécile on the settee and gave her a glass of port, figuring that I might as well take the opportunity to convert her to my view that the beverage should not be reserved for gentlemen alone.

    “What is troubling you?” I asked. She took a sip of her drink before answering.
    “Oh! That’s quite good!” she exclaimed. She paused for a moment, as if trying to gather her courage. “I’m being forced to marry Mr. Berry.” The tears began to flow again. “Mother has agreed to all the details, and I’ve nothing to say in the matter. She won’t even let me tell Tommy myself.”
    “Tommy?” I asked gently.
    “Lord Pembroke.” More sobs. “She has sent him a letter.”
    “Did you have an understanding with him?”
    “Nothing official, of course. But I love him so dearly.” As eldest son of the Earl of Westbrook, Pembroke stood to inherit one of the finest estates in the north of England as well as a respectable fortune. He was the sort of man mothers ordinarily longed for their daughters to catch.
    “Je suis très désolée, chérie,” Cécile said, putting her arm around Isabelle’s heaving shoulders.
    “Does your mother know that you’re here?” I asked.
    “No.” She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “You were always kind to me when I was little, though I know I was a terrible bother. I so admire you, Emily. I know we haven’t seen each other much since your marriage and…well…since the viscount died. I’m sorry.” She sobbed again. “I’m making a dreadful mess of this. Everyone says that you believe ladies shouldn’t be forced to marry against their wishes. My friend Clara wasn’t allowed to go to Mrs. Brandon’s luncheon last week because you were to be there. Her parents were afraid you’d convince her to break her engagement.”
    I had no idea who Clara was, or why she would want to break her engagement, but I hated to think that someone had refused an invitation of Ivy’s simply to avoid me. “I shall write your mother a brief note, telling her that you are with me. You may stay here tonight if you wish. But then—” I stopped, knowing that there was little more Icould do for her. Davis sent one of the footmen to deliver the note and wait for a reply. Lady Elinor was relieved to learn where her daughter was, but her words revealed little sympathy for the girl:
I will send a carriage for her in the morning and expect to find that she is willing to accept the arrangements that I have made for her.
    Margaret, who had arrived in the midst of all the excitement, was outraged. “I can’t believe you would entertain the notion of supporting her mother in this,” she said, pulling me to a quiet corner of the room.
    “What can I do, Margaret?”
    “Send for Pembroke.”
    “And then what?”
    “They could go to Scotland.”
    “You can’t be serious,” I said. “I have no idea what Lord Pembroke’s intentions are.”
    Although she had not heard us, Isabelle echoed Margaret’s request. “Emily, I must see Tommy. Can you help me?”
    Much as I hated to see her forced into a marriage, especially to Charles Berry, I did not want to be party to her ruin. How unfair of her mother not to let her tell Lord Pembroke herself, to say good-bye to him. I thought how incensed I would be if my own mother had done such a thing. Then I thought of Colin. If someone forced me away from him I would want—need—to see him one last time.
    “All right, Isabelle,” I said with a sigh. “We will bring Lord Pembroke to you, but you will have to be patient while I arrange it.” I sent a maid to draw a hot bath while Cécile led Isabelle upstairs.
    “What will you do?” Margaret asked. “Can Colin help?”
    “He’s at his brother’s in Richmond. We’ll send for Jeremy instead and ask him to collect