“I would be in your debt, Mrs. Tolman. Please send any information to Gilbert House immediately. I am most anxious to see this grievous treatment of Ledger corrected and, if he is amenable, reinstate him as my secretary.”
“You are kindness itself, Your Grace. I can see why Adam so valued his employment in your household.”
Ridiculous, but Tristan felt himself preen at the tiny bit of praise, at the confirmation that Ledger had indeed liked him.
“With your help, Mrs. Tolman, hopefully we can run Ledger to ground and assure him that all will be well.”
12
The next morning, Isolde found herself sitting in the library, writing out invitations to the ball. Doing some rudimentary math, she figured if she wrote out twelve a day, she would be finished by the end of the week.
Granted, she had laid abed long after Tristan departed for a ride in Hyde Park. Part of her had wanted to ask him to stay. To insist that they remain in their chambers all day. In fact, she had begun kissing him with precisely that intent, but before she could form the words, he had so thoroughly distracted her with his hungry lovemaking, she could scarcely remember her own name, much less her hopes for the day.
By the time she woke again, he was gone and her request remained unspoken. She knew he was anxious, hoping to receive news today from Mrs. Tolman about Ledger’s banking friend. Tristan’s early ride was merely a way to pass the hours and work off his nervous energy.
Still, she had shuffled across to his cold side of the bed and wrapped her arms around his pillow. Pressing her nose into the goose down, she breathed in the lingering scent of him. Anything to feel closer to her husband.
After a leisurely breakfast in bed, Isolde had pulled on a voluminous dressing gown and made her way downstairs to the library to finish her allotted twelve invitations. She had just completed number seven when Lady Lavinia strode into the room.
“Oh!” She paused just inside the doorway. “I did not realize you were in here. I wished to consult a book on . . .” A long pause ensued as Lady Lavinia scrambled for a potential topic. “. . . voyaging.”
Isolde barely suppressed an eye roll. Truly, Lady Lavinia needed to prepare more convincing lies in advance.
Though she knew she shouldn’t, Isolde couldn’t help but ask, “Voyaging?”
“Of course. The art of travel, if you will. Did your university education not cover that, Your Grace?”
Honestly.
Isolde bit back a sigh.
Matters with Lady Lavinia were not improving. It seemed the more Tristan, Isolde, or Lady Hadley laid down the law, the more Lady Lavinia pushed against it. She brought up her mother’s close relationship with Queen Victoria at every opportunity and regularly implied that her mother was noble and oh-so-kind not to eviscerate Isolde’s reputation at Court.
“No,” Isolde said. “I daresay my professors preferred weightier topics, like how to calculate the velocity of a ship amid a long voyage and then use that speed to determine the time to port.”
Lady Lavinia pursed her lips into a judgmental moue.
Isolde pulled her dressing gown tightly around her shoulders with one hand. “Are ye planning a journey then, Lady Lavinia?”
The sooner, the better, in Isolde’s opinion.
“Perhaps.” Lady Lavinia folded her hands primly at her waist.
“Aye, well, our library here has a great many books on travels.” Isolde gestured toward the shelves. “I am sure ye will find something to your liking in no time at all.”And, God willing, it will inspire ye to relocate to California, she thought.
Lady Lavinia crossed to the books and pulled a tome off of a shelf, inspecting the title page and then returning it. Isolde went back to her writing, though she could feel Lady Lavinia’s eyes on her from time to time.
“Writing out invitations, I see,” Lady Lavinia said, abruptly appearing at Isolde’s elbow.
Only a lifetime of dealing with sneaky younger brothers prevented Isolde from startling and blotting her paper with ink.
“Aye,” she replied without looking up.
A pause.
Lady Lavinia remained at Isolde’s side, peering over her shoulder.
Isolde set down her pen and looked up. “May I help ye, Lady Lavinia?”
