Isaac followed him. “Yes, my lord, I understand. But—you misinterpret my intentions.”
“I should hope that is true.” Lord Blackstone hardly spared him a glance as he made his way out of the ballroom. The moment he saw Prudence, he rushed forward. “What is the matter, my dear?” He peeked around Sophia, bobbing his head like a bird to catch a look at Prudence’s face.
Isaac glanced down the dim corridor. Percy was nowhere in sight. Had he left already? He would be wise to avoid making even more of a scene.
When Prudence looked up at her stepfather, her skin was splotched in red, her eyes liquid. “It’s Mr. Ellington,” she sobbed.
Lord Blackstone froze, his spine straightening like a board. Ever so slowly, he turned, his sharp eyes fixating on Isaac. He marched a few steps closer. “What have you done to my dear Prudence?”
“The other Mr. Ellington!” Sophia exclaimed.
Lord Blackstone stopped. Isaac towered over him, yet he had seemed prepared to walk straight into him. The viscount’s brows twitched upward. “PercyEllington?”
“What other Mr. Ellington is there?” Sophia asked in exasperation.
Lord Blackstone’s gaze flickered up to Isaac’s face before he darted back to Prudence’s side.
Isaac took it upon himself to find Mrs. Liddle, eager as he was to escape Lord Blackstone’s accusations. His stomach writhed with discomfort. He hadn’t meant to tear Percy away from all his connections at Blackstone’s, but once the viscount knew the truth, he would likely revoke his membership. Isaac himself would have to withdraw. It didn’t feel right to stay when he was only there because Percy had recommended him.
He could only imagine how much Percy hated him now. Isaac had done what was needed to protect Prudence, but at what cost?
Isaac found Mrs. Liddle on a chair against the wall, a plate of fruit on her lap, squinting at all the dancers behind her spectacles. She quickly abandoned her post to come to Prudence’s rescue, and the three women started directly for their carriage.
Isaac was eager to speak with Sophia—to discuss what had happened that evening—but he would have to wait.
With the three of them out the door, the entrance hall was empty, leaving Isaac alone with Lord Blackstone. Music drifted from the ballroom, a slow melody that did little to fill the awkward silence.
“What an eventful evening, indeed,” the viscount said finally. His mouth spread into a somber smile. “I must own that I acted quite like a squirrel this evening. I was certain you were after my acorns.” He chuckled.
Isaac puzzled over the comparison for a moment. “I’m sorry to have raised your suspicions.”
“Yes, well, my senses must not be as sharp as they once were. I thought Mr. Ellington was sincere.” His gaze fell. The poor man seemed genuinely betrayed by Percy. He was not the only one.
“Miss Hale was determined to protect her sister from my cousin,” Isaac said. “I called upon her yesterday because she asked for my assistance. I meant no harm to your…acorns.”
Lord Blackstone smiled. “I trust that you have no intention of courting either of my stepdaughters?”
Isaac thought of his dance with Sophia, when he had asked if she wanted him to interfere with her courtship. She hadn’t answered. But her hesitation gave him more hope than if she had answered with a swiftno.
Lord Blackstone’s question still lingered in the air, awaiting an answer.
Isaac gave a resolute nod. “You have my word.” It wasn’t a lie. Isaac had courted Sophia before, but he had no intention of doing that again.
This time, he intended to marry her.
Chapter Fifteen
The window of Sophia’s bedchamber faced the street, so when she was bored—like today—she watched the horses, carriages, and people down below. She had grown accustomed to a view like this, though she much preferred something more beautiful to look at. She had only lived in Cornwall a short time, but the view from her window at Lanveneth had faced the sea. There wasn’t a better view in the world than that.
Prudence played the pianoforte downstairs. For the past two days, she had been flooding the house with constant somber tunes. When she wasn’t playing music, she was crying, so Sophia was grateful to hear the notes drifting through the house—even if they were a little too melancholy. The music fit Sophia’s mood as well, much like the grey sky with its sodden clouds that looked ready to ring out rain all over the crowded square.
Sophia was dreading the events of the day. She had yet to call her maid to arrange her hair. She would be attending Lady Strathmore’s art auction with Lord Finchley that day at Christie’s on King’s Street. Sophia could hardly believe that her painting of Cornwall hung on the walls of the gallery. She doubted it would attract many bidders, but she was invited toattend. Lord Finchley had arranged to convey her there in his carriage. She couldn’t help but think of Prudence’s question at the picnic about who she would most like to be trapped in a carriage with in a rainstorm.
Had Lord Finchley somehow predicted the weather?
The sky did look likely to rain, but thankfully Aunt Hester would be in the carriage with them. Sophia should have been happy to see that Lord Finchley was making their courtship public. Instead, it flooded her stomach with nerves.
She had only attended one public event with him before, and it had caused a significant stir of gossip amongst theton. Before becoming Lord Blackstone’s stepdaughter, Sophia and her family had been practically unheard of. But now, she was connected to a viscount (one who was known for his oddities) and courting an earl. She was not accustomed to attracting so much attention. It made her vastly uncomfortable.
