Georgiana mouthed the words,Oh God.I’m so sorry.
Tears clouded Isobel’s eyes. Slowly, she nodded. It occurred to her that Georgiana wouldnotmount a confrontation. She was... she was...
... making her way to her.
Across the crowded ballroom, Wendy Bask and Lady Cranford had intercepted the duke. Wendy curtsied before him with the practiced grace of a dancer. Wendy’s mother looked on fondly while a uniformed man facilitated an introduction.
Isobel glanced again at Georgiana. Her mother held out a hand, low with open fingers. The gesture was so foreign—almost nothing Georgiana did was low or discreet—Isobel almost didn’t understand.
Without thinking, she reached for her mother. She could count on one hand the number of times that Georgiana had been present when she really needed her. But she was here now, and she wasn’t causing a scene, and she didn’t spoil for a fight. She was simply standing beside her, holding her hand.
Isobel felt a swell of love and gratitude for her mother. She was flushed with it; the hollowness inside began to fill.
“Proud smile,” Georgiana whispered in her ear. “Chin high. Tits out. Which one is the duke?”
Isobel looked across the ballroom, and they saw North, yards away, bowing over Wendy’s knuckles. The sight banished all thoughts of crying; now she wanted to shout. The outrage in Isobel’s head took the form of four words:He belongs to me.
She opened her mouth to say it, but then suddenly the dowager duchess returned. Two of Jason’s sisters joined her, and the three of them smiled in hopeful curiosity, their eyes darting back and forth between Isobel and Georgiana.
And now Isobel acknowledged thatrunninghad never been an option. It would only make matters worse and it wasn’t her style. She was a realist, not a coward.
She cleared her throat. She sucked in two silent breaths and envisioned each vertebra of her spine fortified with iron.
“Your Grace,” she said to the dowager, “I should like to make an introduction.”
“Lovely,” said the dowager, eyeing Georgiana Tinker’s eye-wateringly bright gown, feathered headdress, and beautiful face.
“May I present my mother, Miss Georgiana Tinker.”
The dowager blinked once, absorbing Georgiana’s vibrancy. When she recovered, her smile was warm. “How do you do, Miss Tinker. I was so pleased you accepted our invitation on such short notice. We are delighted to have you to Syon Hall. Your daughter is a delight. And if I might say so, what a magnificent gown.”
“Your Grace,” said Georgiana in hushed, respectful tones. One of the things that made Georgiana the consummate professional was her triumph in a supporting role. She sank into a curtsy and clung to Isobel’s arm.
After this, conversation dropped away. The moment took on an odd, expectant quality. Isobel and her mother turned in unison to track the movement of the Ladies Cranford.
“But have you seen a friend?” asked the dowager, following their gaze.
“Ah,” said Isobel in the same moment that her mother said, “Yes.”
Halfway across the room, Lady Cranford turned to stare directly, unerringly, at Georgiana and Isobel. The ice of her glare was like a snowball to the face.
“Oh no,” groused the dowager, “is that Lady Cranford?”
Isobel didn’t answer; she watched as her father’s widow began a slow, determined march in the direction of Georgiana.
My God, Isobel thought in horror,she’s coming directly to us.
Again Isobel felt the instinct to run. They could excuse themselves and slip away; they could cut their own path through the ballroom, marching to meet Lady Cranford halfway. She could whisper to her mother,Do your worst, Mama, and simply step back.
But then she looked at Jason. He was laughing at something his sister said, and looking pleasantly down at Lady Wendy. He appeared neither enchanted nor repelled; he was simply talking. Wendy related some anecdote with rapid movements of her small, gloved hands.
Without warning, he looked up and around, seeking out Isobel. If Lady Cranford’s gaze had been ice, his was the sun. He smiled and gave her a wink. Ever so subtly, he affected a slight eye roll and nodded to Lady Wendy’s flapping hands.
Isobel smiled, and the shimmers in her belly filled in all remaining hollowness.
She had the sudden thought,I will trytosalvage this.
He is worth it.
