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was not at all like her first husband.  His sense of honour for example was unquestionable.  Did she feel she could put her trust in such a man?
    Evidently she did for she was shocked to hear herself saying quite coolly.
    ‘In that case Your Grace, I am inclined to accept your offer.  Thank you.’
    He looked surprised, as if he had not expected that outcome.  His customary sober expression was replaced by a brief, warm smile tha t transformed his face as he squeezed her hand and released it.  ‘Good.  I am glad of that.  Now we have got all of that out of the way, let us go share our news with our two closest friends.’
    As he departed the house an hour later, Guy was aware of a lightness to his step that had not been there previously.  Undoubtedly due to relief he decided.  Her acceptance had averted what could otherwise have been a very awkward situation. 
    She had certainly not been overly effusive by any means when they had broken the news to Sophia and Ralph, maintaining a quiet dignity that he had personally thought quite charming even if it was slightly piquing that she appeared to have no interest in him as a man whatsoever.  But she was a strange woman and he suspected he would have to be patient with her.    He had inkling it might be something of a wait until such time as his bride was ready to welcome him to her bed, but although she had said it was not her preference to indulge in marital relations, she had not put that forward as a precise condition.  To his surprise he found himself viewing the prospect of winning her over, with anticipation.
    The thought occurred to him that he had perhaps taken on more than he ’d bargained for in asking Lady Isabelle Pennington to be his wife.  She was direct to the point of bluntness on occasion and clearly had no qualms about stating her opinions.  But he could not believe her to be feckless or   superficial as Charlotte had been, and for that at least he was thankful.  So - the scene was set.  He would organise a quiet wedding as soon as possible and be done with it.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    ‘I love Christmas now that you are with us, Mama.’
    Isabelle turned from where she was adding a few decorations to the tree and looked at her little step-son in surprise.
    ‘‘Why Charles, that is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.  I shall take it as a great compliment.  Thank you.  But why do you say it?’
    He sidled up to her and slipped a warm little hand into hers.  ‘Cos I love you,’ he said, his eyes serious and oh so like his father’s.  ‘And because we have never had a Christmas tree before.  I like it.’
      Isabelle smiled and gave him a hug.  ‘It is a new idea that I heard about.  It sounded such fun and soon I will put some small gifts beneath it that we may open on Christmas Day.’
    ‘ Will there be one for me?’
    ‘ But of course.
    ‘ Sadly that will not be the case.’
    Isabelle spun round at the sound of Guy ’s voice, jumping up nervously and straightening her gown as she did so.  ‘Oh, Your Grace.  I did not hear you there.’
    He sauntered into the room, a frown marring his brow.  ‘Why are you not with Nanny Peters, Charles?  Should you not be learning your reading?’
    ‘ I suggested he stay down here with me this afternoon,’ Isabelle said quickly.  ‘He was not feeling particularly well this morning and I thought it would do him no harm having some time away from the nursery.  He has been helping me to decorate the tree.  Do you like it, Your Grace?’
    Guy ’s frown deepened.  He was beginning to get mightily fed up with being called Your Grace the whole time, recognising it for what it was … a method of keeping him at arm’s distance. They had been married a full month now and whilst he could not fault Isabelle’s management of the household and her treatment of his son, he was finding her coolness – the very coolness he’d thought such an asset – to be something of an