“My people,” she said more quietly, “a small staff of my choosing, enough to keep me from being entirely your mother’s dependent. I have no wish to set a household at odds, but neither will I stand alone in a house that hopes I fail.”
She looked up at him then, unflinching.
“You are aware that the power in this proposal lies entirely with me? I do not have to marry you but do so out of honor.”
“I am aware,” Isla replied, “but I cannot go meekly into misery. It is not my nature.”
And my power is not all I have tried to make you believe. Honor dictates my actions. If you refuse me, my honor is tainted. Do you know this?
“Granted,” he said.
“You are very quick. I thought it would take much more thought.”
“I had already decided on much the same in my response to your brother’s contract,” Edward lied, deciding it easier to keep the peace by pretending to be in alignment. That surprised a laugh out of her, it was brief and very nearly sweet.
“We’re no sae different, you an me,” she said with a sunny smile, lapsing into the rolling Scots accent once more.
“Se una lastima,” Edward replied, lapsing into his own coded language, the Spanish he had picked up on his voyages with the Argus.
Isla frowned and even managed to make that look pretty. She looked up at him, wrinkling her nose.
“What language is that?” she asked.
“Spanish.”
“Do you use it to secretly insult me?” she asked, eyes sharpening.
How very quick she is. Her wit is a rapier. And damnation but I enjoy the duel!
“Do you use Scots to do the same?” he countered.
“I use it to convey my true feelings.”
“As do I.”
Edward’s attention had wavered. It had become focused entirely on Isla and not on familiar faces that might notice the Duke of Wexford and the daughter of Strathmore, unchaperoned. He pulled his focus away from her shining face, leaving behind a mischievous smile, dazzling eyes. And immediately met the eyes of a man with coal-black eyes and a shock of dark hair. His face was thin and angular as though cut from stone by a chisel.
He was looking at Edward without recognition but when his eyes went to Isla, something different crept in. Edward found himself offering the crook of his elbow to her. She took it and he looked back to the young man.
Coal was right. His eyes smoldered and he had not looked away from Isla. For her part, she didn’t appear to have noticed him. Edward told himself that he was not responding out of jealousy or possessiveness but simply out of honor. It required him to protect Isla from scandal.
The young man stood with a group of others who had claimed a patch of turf and a length of makeshift rail. Two grooms trotted fresh horses in a circle while wagers flew. It was an impromptu race, the sort the Park Authorities disliked and young blood adored. The air prickled with challenge. Isla’s attention moved to the horses as if pulled by a wire.
“Poor creatures,” she murmured. “Look at those seats. That chestnut will tire too soon. He’s held too tight in the shoulder. And that bay, he has a better turn of foot than the fellow on him knows.”
“You speak as if they were men at drill,” Edward said.
“They are men at drill, and most of them out of step.” She tipped her head, eyes narrowed. “If that boy on the grey would stop hauling at the mouth, the animal would find his stride.”
The man with the black eyes caught her remark. He sneered, lip curling.
“Take care of uninformed opinions in front of those who know better.”
“Mine is not uninformed though yours clearly are if you think you know better,” Isla retorted.
“My father’s stables are among the finest in the country,” he retorted, “Lady Isla.”
Chapter 5
