A March to Marquess | A Regency Romance

Chapter Eighteen

Another evening, another evening gown that Isabella put on with the help of her ladies maid. This time, the ivory dress, with beautiful stitching of lace around the bust and the hem, was accentuated with a pale pink silk sash tied in a bow around her slender waist.

She pulled the gloves up to the top of her arm and clasped the small pearl bracelet around her wrist. Looking in the mirror, she added a few pearl pieces in her hair.

No longer was she content on staying on the walls of the parties or going through the motions of her dance card. It was time for her to try to find a husband other than Dunmore, and she was running out of time. Clearly she couldn't count on the Marquess of Devonshire. He had disappeared before they could even try his plan.

She stared up at the facade of the house they were entering. The door didn't feel as imposing anymore as she tilted her chin even higher and walked in with her father and step-mother following.

"Lord and Lady Welton with their daughter Miss Isabella." They were announced to the room. Soon, Isabella's card was nearly full.

"Lord Welton I believe we haven't met formally before."

When she turned around, the sandy haired stranger was holding out his hand to her father. He took it, hesitantly. Unsure of the man who was introducing himself outside of societal expectations.

"I wouldn't introduce myself this way if we haven't already spoken before. I think you have exchanged quite a few letters with me," faint wrinkles gathered at his eyes as he smiled.

"Bingham, my dear fellow! I am so glad to finally meet you in person!" To further Isabella's surprise, her father embraced the man patting him heartily on his back.

"This is Lord Bingham?" Her step-mother looked him up and down. "You are much younger than what I thought you were."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Lady Welton," he bowed his head at her. "My ship made it to port quicker than anticipated.

"Bingham, I'd like to introduce my daughter to you, Miss Isabella," he clasped his hand around hers as her father introduced them.

"We've met," he said. "Is your card filled, Miss Isabella? I'd love a dance."

She nodded her head and handed him the night's card.

"When did you two meet?"

Bingham responded as he filled out her card. "The other night. We both found ourselves taking a moment to breathe away from the party," he handed the card back to her, grazing her finger tips with his. "I didn't get a chance to introduce ourselves, but we had quite a witty banter. She kept me on my toes."

A smile danced across his face as Isabella noted the shock across her step-mother's. While Lady Welton stayed quiet, her father couldn't.

"Witty? That is quite unlike our dearest Isabella."

"Pray, do not take this as any insult, Welton, but you must not see how she shines when challenged."

Her father exchanged looks with his wife. The shock was still apparent across the Lady Welton. Isabella felt her own face flame with embarrassment at the compliment.

"I really hope you do not find me rude, Lord Bingham. I did not mean to challenge you," she apologized to the gentleman who was no longer nameless. She kept her gaze down at the floor, not wanting to embarrass herself any further.

"Please don't be embarrassed, Miss Isabella. I enjoyed our time together and look forward to even more conversation tonight," he cleared his throat. "Now, I must be off as to not show my preferences with you over others. Although, there is," this caused the four people to chuckle. "It was an honor to finally meet you in person, Lord Welton."