Isaac shook his head. “Surely they wouldn’t care if I knew their whereabouts. Has an urgent matter called them away? Is Miss Hale well?”
The butler stood still, his grim expression unreadable.
Panic rose in Isaac’s throat. His voice burst out. “Tell me something!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ellington. I have a letter for you, and nothing more.” His gloved hand extended a folded square of foolscap. “From Miss Hale.”
Isaac took the letter, his fingers shaking. He walked down the steps, bending his head over the written words. There had never been a need to exchange letters or written notes, since their houses were so close to one another. Sophia’s hand was elegant, just as he would have expected. The dark lines and curves blurred under his tears.
Dear Mr. Ellington,
I have enjoyed my time spent with you in Cornwall, but I have awakened to a sense of my place. It is with my family in London as I have always planned. I do not have the words to fullyexplain why I have left, but that I require more than a life in Cornwall.
I wanted to bid you a proper farewell in person, but I believe Byron’s words: ‘All farewells should be sudden, when forever, else they make an eternity of moments, and clog the last sad sands of life with tears.’
I pray that you will forget me. Do not try to follow me. Please recognize that I am gone forever, for that is what I wish to be. In time, I hope you will come to forgive and understand my decision.
Sincerely,
Miss Hale
Isaac lowered the letter, his entire body numb. He turned around, a desperate surge of pain clawing at his heart. The door of Lanveneth was closed now, the butler nowhere in sight. Isaac had no choice but to face the truth of the words in front of him.
Sophia had indeed left Lanveneth, but she hadn’t left it for him.
Grandfather died that night, fading from one world to the next in his deepest sleep. Morvoren House was Isaac’s, and Isaac’s alone.
At twenty-two, Isaac still didn’t know much of the world. But he knew grief.He knew that his heart could shatter in an instant.
And he knew that he would never stop loving Sophia Hale.
Chapter Two
FOUR YEARS LATER
Isaac Ellington could think of at least ten places he’d rather be than in a crowded London ballroom dressed as a fox.
“I never should have allowed you to select my costume,” Isaac muttered, touching the ties on the back of his half-mask. He would have been content with the attire if not for the ears.
Pointed, orange ears.
“At leastyoursis fitting to your personality,” he said.
His cousin, Percy, grinned beneath his red and black mask. His raven black hair swooped above it, with a few strands falling over the front. He was dressed as Mephistopheles, a devil in disguise. He thrived on skirting the edge of scandal and earning as many glances as possible. Ladies would think he looked dangerous and flirtatious in his costume.
And they would think Isaac looked like a household pet.
Isaac’s mask would be staying firmly tied to his face that evening, for more reasons than one. He didn’t know who else had been invited to the private ball at Lady Bradford’s townhouse that evening, but there were a few gentlemen inLondon he would rather avoid. Percy would have been one of them if he wasn’t the only family Isaac had in Town.
“Do you know if Mr. Baker was invited?” Isaac surveyed the room carefully from their place on the outskirts, but the theme of the ball made recognizing anyone quite difficult.
Guests in elaborate masks and costumes moved and prattled in circles. The scent of burning candles, fresh flowers, and something spiced—clove punch, perhaps—perfumed the air. Every chandelier sparkled amid the jewel-toned silk hanging from the ceiling. Gold mirrors reflected the flicker of hundreds of candles, and the soft notes of a string quartet drifted from behind a lattice of white roses.
Percy laughed under his breath. “Is it true Mr. Baker blackballed you from White’sandBrook’s? Even I have evaded such a misfortune. But as you know, I am always discreet.”
“It wasn’t about indiscretion.” Isaac knew that his cousin spent time in the company of many ladies beneath his station. It had earned him the reputation of a rake, but only amongst other participating gentlemen, not the general public. Somehow Percy managed to charm his way through anything.
Isaac on the other hand was always genuine in his romantic pursuits—his pursuit of a wife—though his execution was decidedly lacking. He drew a deep breath through his nose. “I made the mistake of courting Mr. Baker’s sister.”
