His limbs were heavy, his heart even more so. He wanted to leave, but he didn’t want to give Lord Finchley the satisfaction of an early departure. In his planning, the earl must have assumed that Isaac would flee from the drawing room after learning of the engagement, or from watching him devour a bowl of cashews. But Isaac would stay until the final moments of the party.
He watched as Sophia declined Lord Finchley’s invitation to join his table for cards. Her aunt volunteered in her place. To avoid joining a game, Isaac ventured to the nearest shelf and picked up the first book he saw, bringing it back to his chair.
Was Sophia still upset? He stole a glance at her face. Her eyes were dry, but her mouth was a firm line.
Lord Finchley directed some of the guests to a room across the corridor, where he said more tables had been arranged. Mrs. Liddle and Lord Blackstone followed. Their voices grew distant. Lord Finchley would be sure to return shortly, after seeing his guests settled, but for a brief moment, he was gone.
Sophia was alone.
Their eyes met over his book, and the tears he had seen in her eyes sprung back to life.
“Please excuse me,” she breathed, rushing past Isaac and out the drawing room door. She moved in silence, a quick flash of white fabric and golden-brown hair, and she was gone.
Once again, Isaac’s legs acted of their own accord. He leaped to his feet and followed Sophia into the corridor.
Chapter Eighteen
Atear rolled down Sophia’s cheek, then another. She wiped them frantically with her glove, searching for a place to hide. The dark walls were disorienting, the candlelight flickering in all directions as she made her way past the open door of the parlor where Lord Finchley stood with his back to the doorway. She rushed past it to avoid being seen. She had been holding back her tears for long enough to build up a great deal of pressure, and now they fell freely down her face.
“Drat.” She rubbed the heel of her hand over her cheek, a sob rattling her chest. She drew a deep breath. She hadn’t meant to lose her composure, but she couldn’t help it. Her emotions spun wildly around her heart. Isaac’s recitation of Byron’s words had felt like a death blow. He had always known the best way to wound her. She hadn’t meant to taunt him with the news of her engagement! She hadn’t known Finchley would invite him to dinner with such an obvious motive.
She turned a corner, walking as quickly as she could.
“Sophia?”
Her heart all but stopped. Her feet froze on the marble floor. Isaac was the last person she wanted to see in her current state. She dried her eyes one last time before turning around.
He walked toward her with long strides, making up the space between them in seconds. To her surprise, he didn’t stop in front of her. Instead, he moved past her to the nearest door, checking the brass knob. He glanced behind them, and before she could protest, he reached for her hand and pulled her forward. Her mind roared with objection, but her legs carried her willingly into the room behind him.
Her heart picked up speed as Isaac tugged the door shut behind her.
A single sconce lit the small space. Sophia’s eyes adjusted to the dimness. A desk, shelves, and rows of books came into view. It was a study or small library of sorts, decorated in the same dark tones as the rest of the house.
Isaac’s eyes were just as moody and dark as their surroundings. In an instant, she snapped back to her senses, tugging her hand from his grip. “We cannot be in here alone.” If anyone from the party saw them, she would be in dire straits. She didn’t dare imagine how furious Lord Finchley would be.
Isaac’s gaze searched her face. She could still feel the path her tears had torn down her cheeks, the skin dry and tight. Her throat was still raw. Isaac toyed with hearts. That was his way. It was infuriating that she had allowed him to unravel her again, even after she had accepted Lord Finchley’s proposal. Her conversation with Miss Baker had driven her to make her final decision—one last attempt to protect her heart from further damage.
Isaac’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “Did you know Lord Finchley was planning to invite me?”
She shook her head fast. “No. Our engagement hadn’t been made public before today. Had I known, I would have discouraged him. I-I’m sorry you heard the news this way.”
Isaac’s jaw tightened, and he looked down at the floor. “So you will marry him?” The rawness of the question caught her by surprise. She could hear the pain in his voice.
“Yes.” Her voice was strong, but she could feel that strength waning.
She reached for the door again. The longer they were missing, the more suspicion would arise. Before she could turn the knob, Isaac stepped closer. She backed away, colliding with the door. It rattled in its frame. Her heart threatened to leap out of her chest.
Isaac found her hand without any effort, and she felt his fingers wrap around hers. Her arm was limp and weak as he lifted her hand and unraveled her fist, his movements slow and careful. He ran his fingertips over her knuckles. Shivers followed his touch all the way up her arm, and then he dipped his head, pressing a slow kiss to the center of her palm.
Her breath caught in her chest, her heart jumping like a wild thing. How many times had he done this very thing? It had been their tradition, a detail that she had schooled herself to forget.
He lifted his gaze to hers again as he wrapped her fingers back into a fist. “A keepsake.” His eyes flickered with pain. “Goodbye, Sophia.” His voice broke. He didn’t let go of her hand for a long moment, and she didn’t tug it away either.
A lump formed in her throat. Her lip quivered, but she ducked her head to hide it. She had made her decision. Why then was she still holding on? Her face burned, her pulse thrumming fast in her throat.Say it, she commanded herself.
Goodbye, Isaac.
But she couldn’t bring the words to her lips. They burned in her throat. There were answers she still needed if she ever hoped to forget him.
