Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 310

Chapter 310: Marriage Proposal

She counted the raindrops as they splashed against the glass of the window, sliding down one after another until they met and merged together. A faint smile lingered on her soft pink lips as she distracted herself with the simple act of counting the drops of rain, rather than listening directly to the conversation happening outside the room. She was so happy that she could hardly contain the joy swelling inside her.

"...Yes, of course, the marriage should be set as soon as possible, my lady. Our Isabelle, I am sure, will be pleased to hear that the man she fancies has asked for her hand." Came the muffled words of her mother, words that slipped through the gap Isabelle had purposely left open in the door so she could overhear what was being discussed between her parents and the parents of the man she secretly loved. The more she heard, the happier she became, her heart fluttering like a bird eager to take flight.

"Oh, that is good to hear, Lady Dawson. At first, when Deven told me he liked your daughter, I was skeptical, because the girl is known to be a shy little princess who has been pampered by her parents and would not be given away for marriage against her will. But I am delighted to know she likes my son." Came Lady Marchant’s voice.

Liked? Isabelle thought with a shy smile. That word was an understatement. She loved him to death! It was all she could do not to jump up and down in joy at the fact that she would soon marry the respectable son of Lord Marchant, Deven Marchant, a man every woman would give her right arm to have.

"If you wouldn’t mind my request," Lady Marchant continued, "Deven asked me to let you know that he would like to have a few private moments with your dear Isabelle, so they could get reacquainted again. It has been two years since they last met. And as there are no objections on either side regarding this marriage, I think we should arrange for them to meet, with a chaperone, of course."

"Of course, I was thinking about that too," her mother replied warmly. "They can meet and get reacquainted again."

Isabelle jumped out of her seat at those words. She would be meeting Deven? Her hazel eyes widened, and she clutched her nervous fingers against the side of her dress as she bit down hard on her bottom lip, heat rushing to her cheeks. The last time she had seen him, he had held her hand, kissed her knuckles at the ball, and even danced with her. She remembered those beautiful blue eyes that had stared at her as he waltzed her around the hall two years ago.

He had promised they would meet again, but they never did, until yesterday, when she was riding in the carriage through the park and their wheel broke down. Coincidentally, he had been passing by that same park at that very moment.

He had given them a ride in his carriage and then instructed his coachman to return for him after dropping her, her maidservant, and her mother back home. But who would have thought that today he would send his family to ask for her hand in marriage, and then personally request a private meeting with her!

"Oh, Lord. I will be marrying Deven, and he wants to meet me," she mused breathlessly as she hid her face between her palms.

"...then it is set. They can meet at Greenland Park, where there are people around," Lady Marchant said with a smile in her voice. "We can announce their marriage tomorrow first thing in the morning. It is going to be a very strong connection, the Duke’s family and the Marquis. We are so delighted to be connected by marriage."

Isabelle listened to the exchange between their parents, but she did not care in the slightest about what political connections the marriage would bring. What she cared about was far simpler, what she would wear tomorrow to meet Deven at the park.

Throughout the entire night, while her parents formally informed her about the marriage and her meeting with Deven tomorrow, she held in her excitement, forcing herself to act as though she hadn’t eavesdropped on the earlier conversation from her chamber.

"You should be on your best behavior, dear. Though their family rank is below ours, the Marchants are a respectable family, and Deven is a calm soul with the bearing of an angel. Every woman would die to be in your place. So when you meet him tomorrow, make sure you are on your best behavior," her mother chided affectionately as she combed Isabelle’s hair in front of the mirror, braiding it gently for the night, while Isabelle herself could barely contain her radiant beams of joy.

"Yes, Mama. I will be on my very best behavior, just as you taught me," she assured, smiling brightly at her mother, who smiled back and patted her hair fondly.

"That’s my girl. I have set aside the dress you will be wearing tomorrow. Deven’s carriage will come to pick you up."

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