“You don’t seem like the sort of man to do that. At least not by the way you played against Mr. Jenkinson.” Mr. Branok grinned. “Think of how much worse you would have felt losing to him if you had simply given up.”
Isaac couldn’t help but laugh. Mr. Jenkinson was a worthy adversary at cards, though Isaac had misjudged him because of his age. At nineteen, he had proven himself to be more strategic and quick-witted than any of the older men at the table.
Isaac stared into the distance in thought, nearly forgetting that he had company. He had battled Lord Finchley at the picnic, but then he had retreated, attempting to bury his feelings for Sophia rather than face them. What if there was a chance that she regretted not marrying him four years before? What if he had a chance to win her back? By staying away, was he handing Lord Finchley the victory?
He would never know if he didn’t try.
Isaac had spent the last few days strapping on his armor, hunkering down in a shelter, and waiting for the blows to come. He had dropped his weapons because he was afraid of being hurt. His options were to fight for Sophia, and end up wounded, or to lay down on the ground and be wounded anyway. He might be stabbed either way, but he would much rather be stabbed with a sword in his hand.
Isaac shook himself of his thoughts. “Forgive me, Mr. Branok. I’m a bit distracted today.”
The man picked up his book from the table. “No matter at all. I’ll leave you to it.” He gave Isaac an encouraging smile before taking his book to one of the library shelves.
“Good day, Mr. Branok.” Isaac barely managed to blurt the words out as the man left the room. His head was still spinning.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. The longer he waited to do something, the more likely he was to lose. Mr. Branok was right—he couldn’t surrender. He wasn’t certain how to approach his new challenge, but he was certain of one thing: Sophia didn’t love Lord Finchley. She tolerated him, at best. If Isaac played his cards right, he might be able to convince her that he could make her happier than any earl ever could.
Lord Blackstone’s stipulations were an obstacle, to be sure, but Isaac would give up his membership at Blackstone’s for the woman he had always loved. He would give up everything—evenhis pride. The realization lit a fire inside his chest. He let it consume him, until he felt strangely empowered.
Leaving his stack of books for another day, Isaac made his way out of the library, through the open foyer, and down the stairs. His mood had lightened, though he still wasn’t entirely certain what his next move was. He couldn’t knock down Sophia’s door—which was alsoLord Blackstone’sdoor—and propose to her. He would need to tread carefully. If he was observant enough, he might be able to read the odds of his success through his interactions with her. He might be able to gather a little bit of hope.
When he reached the entrance hall, he retrieved his hat and coat. And then the voice he had least wanted to hear grated past his ears.
“Leaving so soon, cousin?”
Isaac turned, one arm already in his sleeve. Percy stood near the exit of the drawing room, dark eyes flashing with anger. He masked the expression with a smile, but it was as fake as the stark white teeth of the stuffed bear in the library.
“I’ve been here most of the afternoon.” Isaac kept his voice polite. “I have business to attend to.” He put his other arm in his coat, tugging it over his body.
“Not so quickly.” Percy strode forward. His smile fell, and his brows lowered. “I wondered if you would care to explain why you attempted to poison Miss Prudence against me.”
Isaac frowned. “Are you referring to me telling her the truth about your dislike of dogs?”
“It was an unnecessary truth to tell.”
Isaac turned to face his cousin with a serious look. “All truth should be necessary, Percy. Especially if you hope to marry her. Miss Hale was concerned about your motivations for courting her sister, and it was warranted. You admitted to me that you would only marry Prudence for Lanveneth House. As such, I feelit my duty to protect her from your dishonorable intentions. She thinks you love her.”
“And she will continue to think that.” Percy’s features relaxed to an unsettling state of calm. “I am going to pour out my heart to her when I propose, and she will be unable to refuse. I already have Lord Blackstone’s permission. I spoke with him today in his study.”
Isaac’s stomach wrenched with dread. “I doubt she’ll accept you after you displayed such violence toward those dogs.”
“Prudence Hale is a foolish young girl. A few complimentary words, and she will be smitten again.” Percy’s mouth formed a sardonic smile. “If you hadn’t left Grandfather’s estate to ruin, we might have been neighbors.”
“It isn’t in ruin.” Isaac’s vexation rose. “I have a capable steward who manages it well. The land is still profitable.”
“Profitable, indeed.”
Isaac detected the mockery in his voice, and it stoked a fresh surge of anger. “Prudence will not accept your proposal. Sophia and I will make sure of it.”
“Time will tell.” Percy doffed his hat with a gloating smile, and then strode out the front door without another word.
Isaac exhaled his frustration. Guilt gnawed at his heart, making his old wounds raw again. Losing Grandfather had been one of the most painful times of his life, and after what had happened with Sophia, Isaac had decided that it was best to leave Cornwall in the past. He couldn’t think of Morvoren, or Cornwall, or the sea thrift and sunrises without thinking of all that he had lost. How could Percy hold that against him? Was it his jealousy that had driven him to pursue Prudence in the first place? If Percy had been the one to inherit Morvoren, then this rivalry would never have begun. Prudence would be safe, and Isaac wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving the estate behind.
When Isaac closed his eyes, he could still see Grandfather at the base of the stairs, breathing but no longer there. He had vanished in an instant, just like Sophia. Isaac could never live within the walls of Morvoren without hearing Grandfather’s rambunctious laughter and creaking footfalls as he fetched his midnight cup of tea. He could never take the cliffside walk he had taken so many times with Sophia without deepening the cracks in his heart. That was why he had left it all behind. Surely Grandfather would understand.
Isaac shook the dismal thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t allow Percy to unsettle him, not at such a crucial time. If Percy was telling the truth, he planned to propose to Prudence soon. Time was running out.
He glanced at the door, gathering up his courage. He had to warn Sophia about Percy’s plans to propose. If Lord Blackstone was here at the club, then there was no better time to call upon her.
