Adelaide could only assume that the ladies expected Isobel’s reaction to be most unpleasant. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Isobel’s eyes grew round as saucers. Which, evidently, was not round enough to contain all her unholy glee. It spilled out into a voice bubbling over with mirth. “A duel?” “It is not amusing.” “It certainly is,” Isobel countered and burst into fits of laughter. “I cannot believe it,” she choked out. “My sister . . . My own eternally decorous sister . . . The subject of a duel.” She let out a shaky breath and wiped tears from her eyes. “Oh, stop looking at me like that. Lord Engsly will put an end to it.” “He has already put an end to it,” Adelaide muttered. “There you are,” she said, with a sweep of her hand. “You’re not truly distressed by this, are you? It’s not an ideal development, I grant. But if there is nothing you can do to change the situation, you might as well appreciate it. And you must admit . . . two men willing to die for you.”
