The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 44

Graham's ruse worked.

As he'd warned, he arrived at dawn the next morning with the captain of his father's soldiers in tow. The prince was all formalities when Marcus greeted him, politely accepting Graham's request for an audience with the duchess. Isabelle made them wait while Lissa helped make her appear as haggard and exhausted as possible.

It wasn't too difficult a job, given that Isabelle's wounds still hadn't completely closed. She'd tossed and turned as she slept, accidentally re-opening her injuries in the night. She'd refused to change her bandages, preferring to use them as props for her act. Lissa powdered her face and neck to add to her pallor, careful to leave her bruises uncovered.

When Graham and the captain entered the room, Isabelle's heart soared when the prince fought a grin behind the other man's back. Isabelle had caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror before declaring herself ready, both glad that she looked so awful and hating to appear so disheveled and unkempt before the man she loved.

But the way his green eyes danced as the captain expressed his condolences for the late duke almost ruined Isabelle's act. Lissa thrust a handkerchief into her hands, shooting Isabelle a look to remind her of the part she was supposed to be playing.

With an exaggerated sob, Isabelle pressed the handkerchief to her face, sniffling and thanking the captain for his words. She grimaced as she handed the handkerchief back to her maid, making a great show of being unable to use her hands properly when she reached for the cup of water at her bedside. Lissa helped her drink, Isabelle wincing with each swallow before waving her maid away.

"I wish you a safe return journey," Isabelle said, coughing with yet another wince as she touched a hand to her throat. When she looked up at the captain, he wasn't quick enough to mask his horrified expression.

She covered her smile with another cough.

"Thank you, your Grace," Graham said, bowing. "We will not disturb you any longer."

The captain bowed in turn, wishing Isabelle a speedy recovery. When he turned on his heel to leave, Graham fixed her with a look so full of adoration it nearly had her tearing the blankets away so she could kiss him one last time. The prince winked before slipping out behind the captain, gently closing the door behind him.

Isabelle slumped back against her pillows, clinging to that last look of his as she fought the sadness seeping back into her thoughts. Lissa watched through the window for the prince and the captain to leave the castle grounds before allowing Isabelle to rise from her bed. Her maid helped tidy up her disheveled appearance before Isabelle called for the healers to dress her wounds and sent word to Marcus that she was ready to get to work.

Rather than allow the loneliness to suffocate her, Isabelle threw herself into running the duchy. The days turned into weeks as Marcus went through her father's affairs, educating Isabelle on all that had happened while she had been in Highcastle.

With the Winters' men still in Inverloch, their garrison was more than sufficient should Leopold renege on the treaty. Her father had stockpiled enough food to see them through until the spring, the garrison included. Lord Roxton, the Marquess of Eastcliffe had sent his condolences, along with a request for a meeting with Isabelle at her earliest convenience. He was not the only noble to do so, most of her liege lords sending similar letters requesting audiences.

Marcus counselled her to wait before accepting any of them, advising her instead to meet with Lord Winters first. He was their closest ally and had been the first to step in during their time of need. According to Marcus, Lord Roxton would most likely attempt to capitalize on Isabelle's youth and inexperience for his own benefit and slighting Lord Winters by seeing the Marquess of Eastcliffe first was not a wise move.  Marcus also warned her that her father had usually been caught between Kentshire's two neighbouring nobles, both Lord Winters and Lord Roxton frequently butting heads and forcing the late Duke Francis to act as a mediator.