The ride home proved a blur, mostly because Isobel did it while sobbing, the pain of Christopher’s rejection more than she could bear.

How could I have been so wrong?

She’d been so utterly certain of his love for her. Forsaken her family to be with him. Yet all he wanted was her body.

Not her heart.

Not a life, or a future.

Just sex.

I guess he is the Devil’s son.

The knock on Isobel’s window had her lifting her tear-stained face from the steering wheel. Without even realizing it, she’d made it home and parked.

Rolling down her steamy window—because tears rolled hot—she noted her mother waited by the door, empty-handed.

Where’s the ice cream and chocolate when a girl needs some?

This day just kept piling on the disappointments. A sigh left her.

A huge, unladylike sniffle was all she could manage under her mother’s stare. At any moment, she’d hear the dreaded, “I told you so.”

Instead, her mother said in a soft tone, “Are you coming inside, myshka? Breakfast is getting cold.”

“I don’t want to eat,” she hiccupped. Her appetite had fled along with her foolish dream of a happily ever after.

“Don’t be foolish. You need food to stay strong.”

“I don’t want to be strong.” Words tossed out with utter petulance. She’d opened her heart to Chris, and he’d stomped all over it. “You were right,” she said in a whisper. “He doesn’t care for me. It was a lie. I hate him.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, myshka.”

“Melodramatic?” Isobel screeched. “I told him I loved him.”

“So soon?” Her mother shook her head. “No wonder you scared him off.”

“I scared him off? He was perfectly fine trying to get in my pants until he realized what you’d done. Really, Mother, a chastity belt?”

“A good thing I placed one on you. Young ladies shouldn’t give themselves to just anybody.”

“Eva did.”

“And has it made her happy?” her mother retorted.

No. It hadn’t. Eva kept looking for someone who could accept her for who she was. Wicked and unrepentant.

“How could I have been so wrong?” So stupid. So blind.

“You weren’t wrong,” Mother stated. “Christopher cares for you, anyone could see it when he visited the house, but men, and even women, are funny creatures. We don’t always know what we feel, what we want, until it’s too late.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her mother opened the driver side door and held out her hand to Isobel. “It means that he probably feels more for you than you realize, but he’s a man who’s gotten used to being alone. A man used to only thinking of himself.”

“He’s stupid.”

“That, too,” her mother agreed with a smile. “Not entirely his fault. Men lack blood to their brain a good portion of the time. It’s bound to have an effect.”

Taking her mother’s hand, Isobel uttered a watery laugh as she got out of her car. “I can’t blame intelligence—or lack thereof—for his rejection, Mother. He doesn’t love me. I thought he did, I know I love him. Did.” She sighed. “I felt things with him. I thought he felt them, too, but as soon as I mentioned marriage and a future—”

“He panicked and said the wrong thing. Which happens more often than you think.” Mother laughed as she tucked her arm around Isobel to lead her inside. “Did I ever tell you about my wedding to your father?”

“Not really, but I saw the pictures. You both looked so grand.” Their wedding finery appeared something out of a medieval ball—Mother’s dress a gauzy princess concoction that floated in filmy layers when Isobel’s papa in his tuxedo swung her around on the dance floor. The way they looked at each other, and in all the pictures taken afterwards, staring at each other with such love… A fairy tale ending until her papa had died.

“Yes, we looked wonderful for the reception, and we had a good life. But before all that happened, I ran away because I was determined to not be wed.”

“You what?” Now here was something Isobel had never heard before. “But why? You and father loved each other.”

“We did. Eventually. However, like you and your sister, when I first found out that my family had arranged my future, I flew into a rage. I became determined to flout tradition, to make my own way in the world. To find love. So I snuck away.”

“But you obviously came back?” Isobel allowed her mother to seat her in the dining area and, immediately, a plate with a toasted bagel topped with cream cheese found its way in front of her, along with some strips of bacon, and fresh apple juice.

“I came back but not of my own volition. As soon as my disappearance was discovered, your father came after me. Found me quite quickly, too.”

Eyes wide, Isobel leaned forward. “He forced you to come back to marry him?”

A smile lit Mother’s features. “Not exactly. Once he found me and listened to my harangue, instead of dragging me back home, he brought me to a crypt in the mountains, a place only he knew about, and for five days, he insisted we get to know each other so that I would willingly agree to marry him.”

Knowing her papa, Isobel doubted it took that long, and she said so. “It can’t have taken you five days. Papa was a wonderful man.”

“Indeed, your papa was the best man. However, where do you think you and your sister inherited your stubbornness? I told myself, no matter how charming or handsome, I had to resist. To flout what my family wanted.”

The story flew in the face of what Isobel knew happened. “Your feelings for him obviously changed during that time. You discovered you loved him.”

“Yes, but I refused to admit it.” Mother shook her head. “Until your papa finally said, ‘Fine. Have it your way, marry someone else.’” Mother calmly sipped her coffee.

“What? How could Papa say that?”

“What else could he say?” Mother arched a brow. “He brought me back to your grandfather, who immediately arranged for me to marry someone else lest he waste the money he’d already spent on the wedding.”

“You married another man?” Isobel almost choked on her mouthful of juice. “But—but you and Papa—how?”

“Your papa and I almost missed our chance. Lucky for us both, he decided to ignore my stubbornness. I was standing at the altar when your father swept into the church on that black stallion of his and told me that, like it or not, I was going to marry him. It was so romantic and dashing.” A faraway look took over her mother’s face, and a smile graced the woman’s lips.

“But what of the other man?”

Mother’s attention snapped back to Isobel. “Your grandfather stabbed him. He didn’t like Geoffrey at all, and your grandfather was quite pleased with the small war he started between the two families. Apparently, he’d been looking for an excuse for years. And that was how your father and I got married.”

“It’s a beautiful story, but the thing is, I’m not the one being stubborn. Christopher is. I was ready to settle down. I chased after him and was rejected. Chris doesn’t love me enough to come after me.”

“Are you sure of that? He seemed to me like a man pretty determined when he stormed in here the other day.”

How could Isobel forget? Her heart had practically leaped from her chest when she saw him. “What are you implying?”

“I’m telling you that perhaps you took him by surprise. That perhaps he simply needs a little time to realize what he needs. To come to his senses and come after you.”

“What if he doesn’t? How long do I wait?”

“Two days.” Mother set her cup down on the saucer.

Isobel paused before taking a bite of her bagel. “Why only two days?”

“Because that’s how long you have before the wedding.”

“What wedding?” she screeched.

“The one we can’t back out of.”

“I can’t get married.” How could her mother even suggest it?

“For now, you have no other choice but to go along with your grandfather’s plans. I am just finding out about this myself. And I am not happy. Do you know how impossible it is to plan a wedding in two days? There isn’t any church available on short notice. Not to mention a proper gown for you, and flowers.”

“This can’t be happening.”

“It is, but don’t fret too much, myshka. I will ensure that everything is perfect.”

Was her mother being purposely dense? “I don’t give a damn about the wedding details. I don’t want to marry a stranger,” she shouted.

“A lot can change in two days. Trust that fate will come through for you.”

“And what if Chris doesn’t come to my rescue like Papa did for you?” What if she found herself trapped in a marriage to a stranger?

Her mother’s smile emerged small and vicious. “Then it will be a short honeymoon and the beginning of a new vendetta with whichever family we slight.”