“Not recently,” she said, and nothing else, keeping her attention on the viscount.
“I hope we are not intruding,” he said.
“No, of course not. As I said, I’m thrilled.” With that, she let go her hold on Lord Dodd and moved directly to Hargrove, wrapped her arm around his and said, “I believe the meal is ready to be served. Let’s forgo wine here and have it with our dinner.”
And then with her free hand, she gestured for him to escort her.
Glynnis couldn’t help but notice how Isabelle pressed her bosom against Hargrove’s forearm. Then Lord Dodd took her arm.
“I knew she would be pleased,” he said.
“Youraunt?” Glynnis queried, unable to help from sounding doubtful when trailing behind the swaying backside of the full-figured blonde woman.
“By marriage,” he explained. “We don’t share a drop of blood. It’s a long story. Difficult to believe I am her nephew. Wot-wot.”
“Yes,” Glynnis agreed. “Difficult indeed.” Thinking it rude to pry too far, she asked no more than, “What is her surname? Perhaps I know her family.”
“Montrose,” he said without hesitation. “Quite a few of her family about.”
Glynnis nodded although she didn’t know any of the woman’s family. They took their seats at a long table, laid for four.
“I keep it ready for company,” Lord Dodd explained, glancing at Isabelle.
She smiled. “And a good thing, too,” the woman said. “One never knows when one will be fortunate enough to have company.”
They were an amiable pair. After the gentlemen had drawn out the chairs for the ladies, Lord Dodd took one end and Isabelle the other, while Glynnis was seated across from Hargrove. She’d hoped to flirt all night with Lord Dodd and perhaps secure an invitation for a walk or a ride on the morrow. Seeing his home, albeit a rented one, she was still impressed, and so far, nothing gave her pause except his “aunt” staying with him.
“Disappointing about the prince’s assembly tonight at the Castle,” Isabelle said while they all received a glass of wine.
“Would you have felt up to it after your long journey?” Hargrove asked.
“Of course, why not?” She smiled at him.
“I only ask because you were not at the theatre tonight. Lord Dodd indicated you were weary from your travels.”
“Pish,” Isabelle said. “It was nice to stretch out, certainly. But mostly I don’t care for silly theatre. If it had been something with gravitas, like...,” she trailed off, considering.
“LikeHamlet,” Glynnis supplied, and shared a smile with Hargrove.
“Yes, exactly,” Isabelle agreed. “Only a simpleton could find that froth by Congreve to be amusing.”
Glynnis recalled how much she’d enjoyed it, glancing warily at Hargrove in case he agreed with Isabelle’s opinion.
Reassuringly, he winked at her. “I thoughtLove for Loveto be not only charming,” he declared, “but also witty.” Then he smiled, entirely unbothered by what Lord Dodd’s aunt thought.
“Never say it,” Isabelle said. Then leaning far over to rest her hand upon Hargrove’s in a gesture of familiarity, she laughed. Her large breasts jiggled, and her nipples were plainly outlined under the filmy material of her bodice.
Both men’s eyes were fixed upon them.It was a good thing the woman hadn’t been at the theatre,Glynnis thought. If she laughed in such a fashion, the male audience would have been too distracted to watch the actors.
“I thought it very amusing,” Glynnis put forth bravely. “Not Shakespeare, to be sure, but with the sailors involved, it seemed a fitting comedy for Brighton. Will there be fresh fish?” she asked Lord Dodd, deciding to change the subject.
“Yes,” he replied. “One of the kitchen staff goes to the beach and meets the boats most every morning.”
“Fish!” Isabelle said. “Is that our next topic?” She laughed again, and Glynnis thought her rude.
“Very well, Miss Montrose. What topic will you put forth?”
“Call me Isabelle,” she said, a glint in her eyes, “and I shall call you...?”
