THE HIGHLANDER'S ALPHA
“Lady Royce, your father is here to see you.” Isabelle turned from her vanity table and faced her maid, Janet, with a smile.
“By all means, let him enter, Janet.” Isabelle stood and ran her fingers through her hair before smoothing her dress down.
Her father, Lord Edward Albert Royce, entered the room a few moments later and smiled at her. He held himself in a way that screamed authority to anyone who so much as glanced at him. As usual, her father was dressed in a very expensive, black, pinstriped suit and a blood red tie. His white hair was brushed and styled so that he didn’t appear to be his age.
Isabelle’s smile faltered when she saw the look of disapproval on her father’s face. While she may not be the most well-behaved lady of the house, she was hardly the worst. She was curious as to what she may have done to earn such a disapproving glare.
“What is it, Father?”
“What on earth have you done to your hair?”
“Oh, I thought a change would be nice.” Isabelle brushed her chin-length, golden hair to the side and looked down at her feet. She wasn’t supposed to cut her hair without her father’s permission, but she was about to turn twenty-five in a week and she needed some freedom.
“You’re supposed to have long hair, young lady.” Her father reached over and lifted her head up before staring into her eyes. It made her uncomfortable to have his icy blue gaze forced upon her, but she maintained eye contact with him.
“I’m sorry, Father.”
“You should not have disobeyed me, Isabelle.”
“I’m ever so sorry.”
“Well, there is nothing we can do about it now.”
Her father stepped back and placed a hand on each of her shoulders before studying her again. Isabelle made sure to keep her chin up, shoulders back, and smile. Whenever her father was giving her that look, she knew that she was being inspected.
“Janet will take you to the dressmakers soon, Isabelle.”
“May I ask why, Father?”
“Have you forgotten about the ball tonight?”
“It must have slipped my mind,” Isabelle said, as she returned to her vanity mirror and picked up a wooden brush. Her father surveyed her again before exiting the bedroom. Janet soon returned with a smile on her young face.
“What style of dress would you like for the ball tonight, Lady Royce?” Janet took the brush from Isabelle’s hands and started brushing her hair herself.
“I’ve told you to call me Isabelle and I was thinking of a strapless number.”
“Do not forget that it is a masquerade ball, Lady—Isabelle,” Janet said, as she placed the brush on the table and sat on the chair next to Isabelle.
“Of course, Janet. Now tell me, how are things going with you and Gerard?” Isabelle turned her body away from the mirror and faced Janet. She blushed and covered her face before shaking her head.
“I’ll take that as a good sign then!” Isabelle urged Janet’s hands away from her face and the younger woman blushed even harder.
“We’ve spoken about dating a few times.”
“Are you going to court him then?”
“I’m not sure, servants are not supposed to court each other,” Janet said, as she shrugged her delicate shoulders with a frown.
“I could talk to my father to see if he will allow you some leeway. That way you could court him. Would you like me to?”
“That would mean everything to me, Isabelle. Thank you!” Janet flung her arms around Isabelle who returned the maid’s hug with a chuckle.
“Well, I’m glad to help. Now, let’s go and get my new dress.”
****
Isabelle tried her hardest to avoid dancing at the ball. Her father had lined up suitable counts for her. They were all required to try and win her affections, but she’d rather sit in her bedroom and read a good book than dance around with men at a ball.
“Isabelle, you
Similar Books
