“Your stepfather has very unique taste,” Isaac remarked, casting his gaze around the room. “But there is a surprising lack of taxidermy here.”
Sophia found her voice. “It wasn’t always so lacking, but my mother isn’t fond of it. She requested that all the specimens be moved to the club. Did you apply there?”
“I did. My cousin encouraged it.”
She cast a glance at Percy, who was already deep in conversation with Prudence. Of course he was. Her jaw tightened. At the door, her stepfather was welcoming an older couple into the drawing room. She recognized them as Lord and Lady Strathmore, their neighbors in the square.
She turned her attention back to Isaac. “Was it your cousin who brought you to London?”
Isaac shook his head. “Percy and I have never been close. In truth, I came to London to find a wife.”
His blunt words sent a shock through her skull. She hid the sensation well, as she always did, keeping her face neutral. “It would seem your quest has been unsuccessful thus far.”
“Yes, but I am undeterred.” His jaw tightened for a moment. “I am not one to give up on something I truly want.” His clear brown eyes took her in, and she caught a hint of resentment—or distaste. Only the latter made sense, and it sent a pang through her heart. Was he trying to remind her that he had never wanted her? Did he think he was doing her a service by attempting to stamp down her hopes before they could rise? Anger surged under her skin.
Sophia couldn’t help but use her one weapon against him. If Isaac thought she was going to grovel for his attention, he waswrong. “An admirable trait. Lord Finchley shares that quality, as he has demonstrated in his courtship with me.”
“I heard about your attachment. My sincere congratulations. He was the peacock, yes?” Isaac’s tone was difficult to read. She couldn’t tell if he was being sardonic or genuine. Either way, it irked her.
She regarded him seriously. “At least he wasn’t wearing orange ears.”
A faint smile tugged on his lips. “A fair point. What else does he have to offer besides his excellent choice of costume and, of course, his title?”
“Many things. He’s kind, well-connected, and dependable.” She lifted her gaze to his. “And he finds my dowry sufficient.”
Isaac held her gaze, seemingly unaffected by the hidden meaning in her words. “How romantic.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes, a string of protest burning on her tongue. There was more she wanted to say, but Stepfather was headed in their direction again. She lowered her voice. “I assume my stepfather is…unaware that we were previously acquainted?”
Isaac’s dark lashes shielded his eyes as he adjusted his sleeves. “I kept that information to myself. He did put me under express orders not to make any attempt to court you, and that’s without even knowing our history. So I assure you, I have no intention of repeating it.”
Her heart pounded, a wave of heat climbing her cheeks. At least he was honest. He hadn’t wanted her then, and he didn’t want her now. But why had her stepfather forbidden him from courting her? Why had that even been part of their conversation? So many questions assailed her; she couldn’t grasp onto a single one.
Before she could speak again, her stepfather appeared beside her.
“Mr. Ellington is a delight, is he not? A wonderful addition to Blackstone’s, if I do say so myself.” His cheerful tone fell flat in her ears, overpowered by the anger that made her skin hot. How could Isaac be so harsh and unapologetic?Hewas the one who had rejected her before. He had once been so thoughtful and gentle with her emotions. Now, he seemed to be toying with them. At least her stepfather had her best interests at heart. For whatever reason, he had forbidden Isaac from courting her—not that he had needed to be encouraged not to. He had made that clear.
“Is he not?” Stepfather repeated.
Sophia’s face burned as she realized she hadn’t agreed with his assessment.No, Mr. Ellington is not a delight. He is a nuisance.It was painful to do so, but she nodded. “He is,” she grumbled.
She felt Isaac’s gaze on her back as she hurried to Prudence’s side, interrupting her close conversation with Percy. Anyone with sense would be able to see that Percy was dangerous. Even the way he looked at Prudence made Sophia’s stomach turn.
When it was time to remove to the dining room, Percy extended his arm to Prudence. Sophia was afraid Isaac would offer her his, but her stepfather intervened. “Mr. Ellington, would you please escort Mrs. Liddle to the dining room? She requires a stronger arm and sharper eye than mine.”
Isaac nodded, offering his elbow to Sophia’s aunt as she bustled a few steps forward. Short and round, Aunt Hester had an inviting, friendly appearance. Her chin touched the top of her chemisette, her face nearly retreating inside like a turtle in its shell. Her eyes gleamed with admiration as she allowed Isaac to escort her forward.
With a grateful smile, Sophia took her stepfather’s frail arm. As they made their way to the dining room, he cast her a sneaky smile. “Lady Strathmore asked about your painting of Cornwall.She offered a place for it in her upcoming charity auction. It would be displayed in the gallery at Christie’s.”
Sophia’s brows shot up. She hadn’t thought her painting to be anything extraordinary, but Stepfather had insisted on hanging it on his drawing room wall. She never would have expected anyone to stop and admire it. “Oh. Yes, I would like that very much.” She had no trouble parting with the painting for a worthy cause. It would only serve her efforts to bury her past. Thinking of Cornwall meant thinking of Isaac—and that was no longer allowed.
“Capital!” Stepfather exclaimed. “She also informed me that she has heard the news of your courtship with Finchley. She gave her utmost approval of the match.”
Sophia forced a smile, already dreading the dinner conversation. “I am glad to hear it.” As satisfying as it would be to discuss her courtship in front of Isaac, it would also be awkward.
When they reached the dining room, she was seated beside Percy, with Prudence and Isaac straight across. The first course began with general introductions, polite conversation, and a surprising lack of exotic offerings. But after a few minutes, the conversation died. Aunt Hester chewed silently on a chunk of bread, magnified eyes blinking fast as she observed the others at the table.
Isaac took a sip from his glass before regarding Lord Blackstone with a serious expression. “I wonder, were a Seychelles giant tortoise dining with us this evening, would he prefer the potatoes or the carrots?”
