Isolde took a deep breath, feeling her sleepless night even more now. The idea of carrying on like normal, of going out with the group of women to look around the grounds, felt impossible.
Normally, she would have felt it was her duty to join, as Thaddeus’s fiancée, but apparently, Lady Bradshaw had assumed all those duties. And so she slipped out of the dining room and headed for the stairs.
She caught the eye of the butler as she went and stopped to speak to him.
“If anyone asks for me,” she said, though she doubted that anyone would, “please tell them I’m feeling unwell and will skipthis morning’s tour of the grounds. I shall try to join everyone for the picnic.”
The butler nodded, giving her what she felt was a sympathetic look, and she turned to hurry upstairs, away from his pity and from everyone who would do just as well without her.
***
Isolde hadn’t actually intended to go to the picnic, either, but after she napped for most of the morning, she was feeling much less tired and a little less defeated. Plus, one of the maids had brought her a note that Annora had written before they’d all left for the tour, saying she was sorry Isolde wasn’t feeling well, and was looking forward to seeing her at the picnic.
Isolde looked at the note for a long moment and then decided that while Lady Bradshaw seemed determined to replace her in Thaddeus’s eyes, at least she could never replace her in Annora’s.
She felt a surge of gratitude and affection for her cousin, and that warm feeling gave her the boost she needed to make her way down to the lake.
Everyone else seemed to have recently arrived as well, and as soon as Annora spotted Isolde, she rushed to her and pulled her over to a blanket by the water.
“Don’t worry about anyone else, darling – let’s just sit here and have a lovely lunch by ourselves,” Annora said, tugging Isolde to sit beside her on the blanket.
“And here I was about to ask if I could join you,” came a teasing voice. They both looked up to see Henry smiling down at them. “I suppose,” he said, grinning, “I shall just have to find myself a party that has not set its hearts on isolation.” Then he made an exaggeratedly sad face, eyes downcast and mouth frowning, but all the while peering up at Annora through his eyelashes.
Isolde could practically see Annora wrestling with herself, thinking she ought to refuse him but wanting to ask him to stay. She decided not to wait for her cousin to do the honorable – if misguided – thing.
“Lord Henry, I am starting to think you are quite the tease. Of course we would love to have you picnic with us. Don’t say such silly things and sit down at once.”
Henry grinned again and promptly sat down, quite close to Annora. The way he looked at her had Isolde turning away and blushing.
She suddenly remembered the way Thaddeus had looked at her, that night in his room … but then she pushed that thought away from her mind. She had come to have a nice lunch with her cousin, and that is what she would do.
It was a beautiful day and not too cool even by the lake, and soon an hour had flown by. Henry and Annora were marvelous companions, seeming to bring out one another’s wit.
They sometimes left Isolde quite behind in their quick verbal sparring, but she didn’t mind. Annora looked so happy, and Isolde was content just to bask in the warmth of her smile. Henry played waiter, popping up to fetch anything they needed.
Isolde couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like to have Thaddeus there, the four of them together. Would they have made a good quartet? Or would Henry and Annora have just been a foil that set off how mismatched she and Thaddeus actually were?
“Ah, dear me,” Henry murmured, looking around at their plates. “I don’t believe we’ve had pie yet. I hope you ladies can forgive me for the oversight. I shall fetch some at once.”
“Let me,” Isolde said, scrambling to her feet and waving away Henry’s protest. “I have eaten so much, a little walk will do me good.” Henry grumbled as he settled back onto the blanket, but as she walked away, she saw him turn to look at Annora with a soft smile and even softer eyes. She smiled to herself, pleased to have engineered a moment alone for them.
She needed to speak to Annora again. She must convince her not to throw away this thing with Henry when it was so clearly meant to be.
“Ah, Miss Fairchild,” came Lord Crowley’s voice. He stepped into her path, blocking the sun and throwing a shadow over her. She sighed.
“I believe I made it clear I don’t wish to speak with you,” she said, trying to step around him.
“Yes, you were quite rude, but don’t worry, I don’t hold it against you.”
“I wish you would,” she muttered to herself as she again stepped around him and picked up her pace toward the table with the desserts.
“I didn’t quite catch that, Miss Fairchild,” Crowley said, hurrying to match her pace. “But no matter. I am not bothered with your manners, for I believe your sister’s will do nicely.”
Isolde reached the dessert table and busied herself with cutting slices of pie. Crowley hovered at her elbow like a gnat that wouldn’t be shooed.
“Unless, of course, you have given more thought to my offer …”
“I have not,” Isolde replied, “because as you well know, I am engaged to Lord Hartington, and therefore not free to give my hand to anyone else.”
