Louisa took a deep breath and looked at Isabelle. “De Grave came to see me this afternoon, Isabelle, to ask for your hand in marriage.”

Isabelle’s face blanched at the sudden news. She said in a stunned voice, “Can it be?”

Louisa went on, despite of or perhaps because of Isabelle’s response. “Naturally, I could not accept this request as I am sure your mother and father will want to be apprised of the matter, and it is ultimately their decision, not mine.”

Isabelle stood, her face alternately turning red and white. “Is he still here, Louisa? Oh, but I must look a fright, still in my gardening clothes!”

“Child, do be seated,” Louisa exclaimed, “of course he is not here. I sent him home.”

Isabelle meekly sat back down.

“We need to speak of your comportment sometime, Isabelle. Your parents sent you here in the hopes that the season would give you that necessary polish that ladies need.”

“Don’t forget The Husband,” I muttered under my breath. Isabelle stifled a giggle. I smiled, but my heart wasn’t in it.