Isaac would not go so far as to tell the earl that Percy had struck his dog with a walking stick. He had to remain neutral on some grounds. “I’m afraid they did.”
“Hmm.” Lord Finchley planted his hands on his hips in clear disapproval. “I suppose Miss Prudence has her answer, then.”
“Indeed.”
Isaac didn’t like conversing with Lord Finchley, mostly because he couldn’t find any obvious flaws in him. Besides the manner in which he arranged his hair, he had no reason todislike the man. Well, besides for the fact that he was planning to marry Sophia.
That was a very good reason.
“I regret that we have lost a guest, but we shan’t allow that to ruin our afternoon.” Lord Finchley clapped his hands together. “Shall we proceed with the picnic?”
Chapter Ten
“Perhaps I am being too hard on him.” Prudence crumpled Isaac’s soiled handkerchief in her palm with a sigh. “Percy might have only used his walking stick in an attempt to defend himself.”
Sophia hadn’t thought it possible, but her sister already seemed to be justifying his behavior. “No.” She shook her head fast. “Think of how he would treat Flora and Thistle. You cannot put them in harm’s way for a man.”
Prudence sniffed, staring blankly into the distance. How powerful were the charms of Mr. Ellington? Could she really be on the brink of forgiving him? Sophia couldn’t judge her sister too harshly. She had been catching herself doing the same thing when it came to his cousin.
Her gaze shifted to Isaac. He stood near Aunt Hester, arms crossed over his chest. She could hardly read his expression, but she could assume that he was wishing for an opportunity to flee as Percy had.
The picnic group was peculiar, to be sure.
Sophia could already sense that Isaac was not fond of Lord Finchley. As emotional as Prudence was, Sophia had half a mind to call the picnic off, but she didn’t want to risk offending theearl. He had been very attentive that day and had even cut a rose from his garden for her.
She stared down at the perfect red petals. She urged her heart to swell, to skip, to feel something besides a small flicker of gratitude, but it didn’t work. Isaac’s efforts to help her protect Prudence were at the front of her mind, taunting her with the vexing urge to forgive even his greatest follies.
With the dogs returned to the stables and the picnic arranged, Sophia joined the others on the gingham blanket near the rose garden. A small stone fountain trickled behind them, and birds chirped as they hopped through the trees. It was peaceful…until Lord Finchley settled down beside her. Sophia stiffened with surprise. She hadn’t expected him to sit so close.
Prudence was on her other side, with Isaac and Aunt Hester across the way. In the middle of the blanket was a large straw basket with leather straps. When Sophia had suggested the idea of a picnic to Lord Finchley, she had explained that Isaac was a dear family friend. She wondered what he would think if he knew the truth.
Lord Finchley leaned forward to open the basket, withdrawing two trays of sandwiches, a plate of scones, and several miniature desserts. A servant brought a pitcher of lemonade on a tray, as well as a set of dishes for each guest.
Before Sophia could add anything to her plate, Lord Finchley touched her arm. “Allow me.” His mouth curved in a smile as he lifted her plate, filling it with one of each item.
Her face was hot. She sat politely as she waited but couldn’t help but notice Isaac’s reaction. He leaned back casually on his hands, his eyes fixed on Lord Finchley. His jaw was tight.
Was he jealous of Lord Finchley?
She wanted him to be. After being cast aside by Isaac all those years ago, she had dreamed of the day that he might wanther again. She had dreamed of him rushing back to her—begging for forgiveness.
But over time, her heart grew bitter, and her dream changed.
For a long time now, the fondest part of her dream was the moment that she could refuse him. She had dreamed of how satisfying it would be to tell him that he had lost his chance with that letter he wrote her.
Then why did she feel so uneasy about Isaac’s jealousy? Shouldn’t she be pleased? She took a bite of a sandwich, the pillowy bread giving way to a slice of crisp, refreshing cucumber. A nervous sensation puddled in her stomach as she realized why her dream made her so uneasy.
Refusing him was no longer the fondest detail.
The possibility of Isaac wanting her again made her heart hammer.
She took a sip of her lemonade. It was too tart, but she hid her grimace.
“What do you think?” Lord Finchley asked, tugging her abruptly from her thoughts.
“I love it,” she lied, offering a smile.
“Miss Hale looks lovely in pink, does she not?” He leaned toward her, but the question had been directed at the rest of the group.
