The Wrong Woman by Kimberly Truesdale Read Free Book Online Page B

began.
    “The truth is, sir, that I do not feel quite comfortable at these things. I always feel that people remember me at the first musical evening I ever attended. I can never calm myself. Sometimes, like tonight, it’s worse and I am overwhelmed by anxiety and cannot sit still.” She tried to smile at him, but the effort only produced a pained look.
    This brought some sympathy into his face, and Isobel almost sighed with relief. He did not think her ridiculous. He was not laughing at her silly fears. Then he spoke. It was a simple statement.
    “You must learn how to be indifferent.”
    “Indifferent? I don’t understand.”
    “You must learn to show everyone that you do not care what they think.”
    Isobel's eyebrows drew together as she thought about this. “And how on earth would I do that? I have no idea how to be indifferent.”
    “It is primarily about confidence in yourself.”
    “I have very little of that.”
    “Then you must pretend.” He said it as if it were the simplest task in the world.
    “Pretend?”
    “Trust me, you become much less interesting when people think that you don't care what they say about you. It is only when they smell fear that they pounce.” There was a hint of teasing in his voice. Is he actually being nice to me? Can I trust him? But what do I have to lose, really? Even if he is laughing at me, my fears cannot get any worse than they are.
    “And how do I learn to do this?”
    His mouth quirked into a smile as he stepped toward her. She shied away from him, intimidated by his nearness. He stopped when he saw her reaction.
    “Well, if you cannot truly be confident, you must at least learn how to look like you are. Put your shoulders back.” He reached out as if to push them back himself, but stopped before he touched her. Isobel stood up straighter.
    “Good,” he said. “If you walk with your shoulders back, you look like you belong wherever you are. No one will argue with you. Now walk.”
    Still with her shoulders back, Isobel began to walk forward. Lord Revere stepped out of her way and turned to look at her as she crossed the length of the room.
    “Take longer and slower strides. Act like this room belongs to you and you will do with it what you please.”
    Isobel felt ridiculous, like a trained monkey doing just what her master said. But he was honestly trying to help her, so she would give him a good effort. As she made her way back across the room, Lord Revere examined her carefully. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks. Isobel was unused to such scrutiny and it made her nerves return in full force.
    “Something is still not quite right,” Lord Revere declared. Isobel slumped her shoulders again and let out a sigh.
    “Now, now, Miss Masters, do not be discouraged. I have figured out what the last piece of the puzzle should be. Straighten your shoulders again.” Isobel did as she was told. “You carry yourself well when you walk, but the last piece is your face.”
    “My face?” Isobel was suddenly conscious of herself in a new way. What could he mean to say about her face?
    “Your face must not look so timid and scared. You must project confidence especially there. Now, you have seen the haughty expression the Countess of Deal wears?” Isobel nodded. “Imitate that expression for me.”
    Isobel looked at her shoes as she composed her face. When she felt she had got it just right, she drew up her shoulders and raised her head. With her left eyebrow arched as high as it would go and her lips pursed together into a tight little bow, Isobel tilted her head back and looked down her nose at Lord Revere. She felt herself to be the very picture of confidence. It was working very well to make her feel that she could conquer the room this evening.
    Until she heard the most unaccountable sound coming from across the room.
    Miles Shepherd, Baron of Revere was either choking on his own tongue or he was about to expire from laughter. For a moment, Isobel was highly