“No.” Sophia shook her head in frustration. “Nothing I say can convince her.”
“What if she were to overhear Percy confessing his intentions.” Isaac drew a step closer, lowering his voice. “If she heard him say that he doesn’t love her…”
“Then she would have no choice but to believe it.” Sophia’s heart pounded. It was a cruel fate for Prudence, but much better than being trapped in a marriage with Mr. Ellington. If they were to become engaged, breaking them apart would be even more difficult. Tomorrow could be their final opportunity.
“That may be what it takes to convince her,” Isaac said in a quiet voice. “To be told in certain terms that she is not loved may be the only way to close her heart to him forever.”
“Yes. In most cases, that will be enough.” Sophia dropped her gaze to his cravat. His eyes were too intent as they looked intohers. The drawing room was too quiet, and the house was too empty.
Isaac moved down the line of paintings. He stopped in front of the one she had hoped he would miss. His gaze flickered over the landscape. She crept up beside him, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
“I remember this.” He turned to look at her. “I was there when you painted it.”
Sophia followed his gaze back to the landscape she had painted of the cove by Lanveneth. She could practically see the movement of the wind in the sea thrift and in the white tips of the waves below. Stepfather had found the painting amongst her belongings they had moved to his estate in Norwich. Sophia hadn’t looked at the painting in years, so she didn’t mind when he insisted that it be displayed at his London house.
The painting had taken her weeks to complete, but Isaac had joined her for each session, waiting patiently as she worked.
“It’s even more remarkable than I remembered.” His sincere gaze met hers before he went back to admiring the painting. “It’s breathtaking, truly.”
“That’s enough,” she said with a quiet laugh.
His mouth twitched into a smile as he shook his head. “I could stare at it all day.”
“Well, it won’t be here for long. I’ve offered it up to Lady Strathmore’s charity auction next week.”
Isaac paused for a few seconds. “Hmm. I shall purchase it, then.”
“No.” Sophia jumped in front of him, shaking her head with a laugh. “There shall be no need for that.” Her heart thudded when she realized how close he stood. She had trapped herself between Isaac and the wall, and she wasn’t even tall enough to block the painting from his view. But that didn’t matter. He was no longer looking at it.
“I think you misunderstand.” Isaac’s gaze moved over her face, dragging slowly across each of her features. “I need that painting.”
Sophia laughed, but her heart was in her throat. “Why?” her voice cracked.
“It reminds me of that summer.” A melancholy smile touched his lips, and his eyes grew softer. “Of what once was.”
Her breathing stalled, and a wave of heat assailed her cheeks. It wasn’t so much the words, but the longing in his eyes that unnerved her. “I thought we agreed not to speak of that.”
“But we never agreed not to think of it.” His features were serious as he placed one hand on the wall to the left of Sophia’s shoulder. She could easily remember the last time he stood this close to her.
It had been their last kiss.
They had stood on the cliffs, his mouth on hers, his hands on her waist and in her hair, his arms wrapping around her until there was no space left. How had they once been so close? Being near to him felt forbidden now, like an ancient rule she was breaking. Her heart had enforced that rule to keep her safe, yet she could hardly recall a moment that she had felt safer than in Isaac’s arms. Her heart thudded as she held his gaze.
“Do you think of it often?” The question spilled out of her mouth. She was too curious.
“Much more often than I should.” His low voice sent a shiver across her neck and spine. A burst of butterflies swarmed through her stomach. She couldn’t move. She was tethered to the wall, somehow trapped by his hand against it, and completely immobilized by his gaze. The rules her heart had given her were growing fainter, dragged down by the raw emotion thrumming under her skin. If she had known that being alone with Isaac would be so dangerous, she would have told the footman to lock the door before he could come inside. Untiltoday, Isaac had been keeping his distance. But that no longer seemed to be his intention.
In fact, he seemed intent to do the opposite.
His gaze settled on her lips, and she felt tugged toward him, despite neither of them moving an inch. He smelled of fresh paper and leather, like an old library, but with a hint of sweetness that made her head spin.
The drawing room door unlatched without warning. Isaac lowered his hand from the wall just as Stepfather walked into the room. Isaac’s body partially blocked him from Sophia’s view, but she caught the surprise that flashed over his features.
His wiry grey brows lifted. “Mr. Ellington?”
Isaac took a step away from Sophia. Her back still grazed the wall, and she had no doubt that her cheeks were as red as a raspberry.
Stepfather blinked a few times in silence, the wrinkles of his forehead deepening one at a time. “What on earth are you doing here?” His voice was sodden with suspicion as his gaze darted between Isaac and Sophia.
