Page 16 of Betrothal Between Enemies

Their hostess rang a little silver bell, calling everyone to their seats for the performance. Alistair spied Ismay standing with her mother, in a gown of aquamarine silk that brought out her eyes. He went to her, offering his arm. ‘There’s to be an engagement party.’ He kept his voice low as they sought their seats. ‘Why wasn’t I told? I had to hear it from Lord Danton.’

‘When would I have told you?’ she snapped behind her fan. ‘We have no time alone.’ There was some satisfaction in knowing she was frustrated, too. Their plan had been going poorly since the boar hunt. All of this separation made him wonder if their resistance had been anticipated.

‘We have to talk. We are running out of time.’ The soprano was mounting the dais. Alistair thought quickly. ‘After the first song, pretend you feel ill and go out to the garden. I will follow you a few minutes later.’

‘Pretend? I do feel ill,’ Ismay murmured as the soprano sang the first notes of ‘Lusingami speranza’ from Scarlatti’s opera, Il Pompeo.

‘I’ll try not to take that remark personally.’ Alistair crossed a leg over one knee and settled in for a listen. The soprano was quite good…and lovely, with long dark hair and an expressive face, just the kind of woman he usually liked, and quite the opposite of blonde, aqua-eyed Ismay. Had they been in London, he’d have sent a grand bouquet backstage and secured an introduction. But that would never do under these circumstances. Sir Thomas would be scandalised at his outrageous behaviour. Perhaps such an audacious move was required. Would Sir Thomas be scandalised enough to break the engagement? Yet, the consequences of something so flagrantly public would have repercussions for them all that outpaced the broken engagement. Especially for Ismay. It would shame her. She’d hinted at having been hurt in love before. He’d rather not be the source of more hurt, even for the sake of the ruse.

The thought prompted other thoughts. Maybe he and Ismay had not been outrageous in the right ways? By the time she quietly slipped out to the garden, and he’d excused himself with a whisper to Sir Thomas that he was going to check on Ismay, he had a full-blown plan that was audacious in the extreme and not without some danger to themselves. But perhaps the risk would be worth it if it meant avoiding an enforced marriage neither of them wanted.

The Dantons’ townhome was in the Chiaia neighbourhood along the coastline, sporting views of the bay and a lush garden populated by tall palms and carefully trimmed bushes of winter daphne with its tiny pink-and-white flowers and jasmine-like scent perfuming the night. It was a beautiful, verdant Eden in which to stroll and admire the Dantons’ collection of statuary and fountains. It was still something of a novelty to Alistair to see these tokens of summer thriving in October. In England, trees would be shedding their fiery foliage, the Devon moors becoming mired in mud that would last until March. But here, flowers bloomed and leaves never fell in this land of eternal sun where there was only spring and summer, never winter.

He found Ismay beside a Neptune fountain, her hand trailing in the water. ‘Our plan isn’t working,’ he offered with no preamble. There was no telling how much time they had out here before someone came to check on them.

‘It’s not been given a chance.’ Ismay looked up, shaking the water from her fingertips. ‘In hindsight, I fear I may have tipped our hand that first night when I spoke with my mother. I asked her what they would do if the match was not amenable to us. Perhaps she and my father suspected we might try that route. In response, they’ve not given us a chance to showcase how unsuited we are to each other. My father has your days busy at the warehouse, and my mother has packed my schedule with dress fittings for my trousseau, tea with the local leading ladies and wedding plans. I don’t have a chance to breathe. I haven’t worked on my own studies for weeks now.’ Alistair heard the little crack in her voice. She was trying to be angry, instead of panicked, and was not quite succeeding. He didn’t want her panicked, didn’t want to bring on another attack like the one the night of the announcement.

‘My mother even took me to look at a house off Piazza Vittoria.’ Ismay blew out a breath, steadying herself in an overt effort to tamp the panic down. ‘How can we prove we’re unsuited to one another if we’re never allowed to be together? At this rate, they’ll keep us too busy to do anything but be pushed towards the altar with no opportunity to push back.’

Alistair sat beside her on the fountain’s rim. ‘We might be going about this the wrong way. If what you think is true, and they’re expecting us to rebel against the match, we should do the opposite. Instead of being unsuited, let us be entirely suited to one another. Let’s lean into who we are. Let’s be together, let’s be outrageous. Wear your trousers, go back to your study groups, pick up your work, and I will champion it. I will say I encourage your interest in volcanology. I will say I champion a wife who speaks her mind. I will be my reckless London self. I’ll make wagers on horses destined to lose races—I hear Lord Danton has a race arranged the day before the engagement party. Meanwhile, I’ll bet too much at the card tables, and you will cheer me on, goad me to fly high. You will be the kerosene to my match, and I will be yours. Your parents think a marriage between us will tame us. Let’s show them that the opposite will happen, that we will drive each other to recklessness.’

‘It will be our greatest prank.’ A little smile teased her lips, the panic receding. ‘There are a few considerations, however. We’d have to spend a lot of time together, which we are currently not allowed. We’d have to convince my parents we have accepted the match. I’m not sure how to make such a volte-face believable.’

‘I do.’ Alistair grinned mischievously. ‘You will have to trust me when the moment comes.’

‘Surprisingly enough, I do.’ She laughed. ‘I’m still not used to being on the same side of anything with you.’

‘I know. It was not that long ago that you nearly shot me.’

‘I did not. I knew precisely what I was aiming for.’ Then she sobered. ‘Your plan is not without auxiliary damage. We might survive it, but our reputations won’t. There will be talk, and we will be hurting people we care about.’

She was serious and so was he. ‘I know, Ismay.’ He paused, gathering his words and courage. ‘The night you asked me how I had reached the age of thirty-two without being married already, I didn’t answer you, not really. I should answer you now. It’s because I am reckless, at least in my father’s eyes. He thinks I don’t apply myself to anything, that I am wasting my talents. And, if I may be so bold as to say it, I think your parents believe the same about you. Our plan will live up to all of their fears for us.’ And it would have to be done publicly. Social gossip would become a tool of pressure to leverage against her parents.

‘Will you go to Florence, then, when this is over?’ she asked quietly.

‘I can stay with Hayes for a while. He can use the help. I enjoyed the vineyard work, being outdoors and seeing the literal fruits of my labours. My father would not be displeased with that decision.’ It might help to mitigate the sting of the broken pact, although his father would not be pleased that his Neapolitan gambit had failed to produce the desired results. ‘What about you? Leaving isn’t an option for you.’ He’d not thought about that when he’d concocted this idea a half hour ago.

‘I will stay and ride out the scandal. It will be easier for me. I’m not the one who will be making outlandish wagers. I will simply have been going about being myself as I have always done. Perhaps I will plead a broken heart in the end. After all, my parents have broken off the engagement to a man I loved,’ she added dramatically, a hand pressed to her breast. Alistair laughed. She gave a wry smile. ‘It will fit my narrative. It won’t be the first time I’ve lost in love or had an engagement gone sour at the eleventh hour.’

Alistair winced. There it was again, that reference to having lost at love, this time more specifically. There had been a prior engagement. When this one failed, she’d be twice jilted. That would not improve her odds of marrying. Ever. ‘I didn’t know there’d been something previous. Perhaps we ought to think of something different, something less harmful to you.’

‘No, it’s fine. I don’t wish to marry at all, if you remember,’ she assured him. He did remember. She’d told him, sitting at the foot of her bed in her nightgown and robe.

‘Still, being jilted must have hurt, even if it was the right choice in the end.’ They were talking quietly now, their words underscored by the burble of the fountain. ‘Will you tell me about it?’ Alistair ventured. The conversation had moved in a different direction, a personal direction. They weren’t talking about the plan or the pact anymore. This was a continuation of the conversation they’d started in her bedroom.

‘It was a long time ago, when I first came out in Naples Society. You recall, I mentioned I fell in love at eighteen? He was a viscount’s second son at the end of his Grand Tour. He was quite taken with Naples and with me, at least I thought he was. He professed to be taken enough to stay, to make a life here. It seemed like a fairy tale until rumours started about him being a fortune-hunter. In order to protect my funds, my father had very stringent settlements drawn up just in case the rumours were true. A man in love would not have minded, but Edward Ashford minded a great deal. The rumours were true. To save face, he told me he couldn’t possibly marry a woman who was so outspoken. He made the broken engagement my fault instead of his.’

She sighed. ‘He wasn’t wrong, though. I was outspoken. I am still outspoken, and I don’t intend to change, even though I know it’s not what any man wants. I simply don’t see a reason why I should give up my voice or my thoughts for a man.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’ There was a certain tragedy to her words. They touched him unexpectedly and deeply. He didn’t know Edward Ashford, but he felt a powerful urge to track him down and pummel him for wanting to stifle another individual, to use them for his own financial gain. His need to protect was most definitely roused. Not just a generic need to defend, but the need specifically to protect her, to protect Ismay Rose, a woman who would likely not thank him for the sentiment. But sometimes it was the strong who needed protecting the most.

Footsteps sounded on the gravel path, and a voice called, ‘Ismay, are you out here?’

‘My father!’ Ismay whispered in recognition.

‘Do you trust me?’ Alistair leaned close, his words feathering against her lips. This was the moment to seize if they were to make their new ruse compelling.

‘What are you doing?’ Her eyes flared wide, her breath caught, hitching in her throat, because she knew very well what he was doing and it excited her, which was another matter altogether because, in truth, it excited him, too.