“Gunters?” One of the other ladies present smiled at him and tilted her head. “Are you to take an ice alone, Lord Coventry? That would be quite lonesome, I am sure.”
Isaac forced a smile to his lips and inclined his head, his pulse racing as he noted Lord Pennington’s eyebrows dropping low. “Your concern is most appreciated, Lady Hannah. I am not to be alone, no.” Fear clawed at his heart, but he spoke anyway, forcing them out. “Miss Oldham is to join me.”
A murmur of surprise ran around the group, with Emily taking his arm for a moment, happiness shining in her eyes.
“That is wonderful, brother,” she murmured, very softly indeed. “I do hope that your meeting goes well.”
“I am sure it shall.” With a smile, he turned back to the group. “You will have to excuse me, I am afraid. I must – ”
“I was quite certain that Miss Oldham was set upon someone else.”
Isaac blinked in surprise, noting how Lord Pennington’s jaw had tightened. “I beg your pardon?”
The gentleman shrugged. “I am only saying that I was sure I heard a whisper about her attachment to another gentleman. I do hope you are not about to be disappointed, Lord Coventry…or that she is not one of those young ladies who likes to tease gentlemen such as yourself.”
Those words, spoken in a large group of gentlemen and ladies, were clearly meant as a slight against Christina. Isaac’s heart rang with anger, a tremor juddering through him as he held Lord Pennington’s gaze. Was that mockery in his eyes? An arrogance? There were some wide-eyed looks from some of the ladies, their glances to one another saying more than they ever could.
Any remaining sliver of doubt Isaac might have carried into this encounter fell away in that instant. A man who had done Christina no wrong had no cause to snipe at her in public with such evident relish. But a man who had orchestrated her grief, who had spent two years patient for her to break toward him, who had watched that design collapse as she turned instead to the very gentleman he had worked to remove — such a man, denied his prize, would find it intolerable to watch Isaac claim her in daylight. Pennington’s mask had been made of patience. Patience had run out.
His stomach churned, and he fought the rising tide of fury that threatened to crash over him and carry him away. Lord Pennington was perhaps unaware that Christina had shared the note with him. He might not expect Isaac to have any awareness of it, and Isaac had to maintain his composure even in the light of his upset.
“I do not think I have heard of such a rumor,” he said, as mildly as he could. “I myself am never inclined towards listening to gossip.” With a sniff, he waved one hand vaguely in Lord Pennington’s direction, as if he was shaking the words right away from in between them both. “I think it rather poor to accept the whispers of society as truth. I would never allow myself to base my thoughts or opinions about someone upon what is spoken behind their back. To believe without questionand, worse still, to express them to others speaks of a weakness of mind, I think.”
Lord Pennington’s face paled, his eyes sharpening a fraction.
“Oh, I quite agree,” Lord Kinsley remarked, slapping Isaac hard on the shoulder. “Go, then, do not permit us to hold you back from Miss Oldham.”
Isaac nodded, excused himself, and with fire still heating his lungs, stepped away. His only thought was to get to Christina, to reach her first, and to share with her all that had taken place. This was the part he did not like, the part he feared – for what now was Lord Pennington going to do? He had already made one vague threat against her reputation, but would he now do more?
His stomach twisting, Isaac hurried along the road towards Gunters, his heart pounding and hands sweaty. No matter what followed, he was determined to make Christina his wife, to secure her future with happiness and contentment – he only feared what sorrow and pain Lord Pennington might try to inflict in the meantime.
17
"Then it is Pennington."
Christina closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the table, her pulse racing.
"Yes, it must be." Lord Coventry's voice was low and heavy. "I am sorry for it, Christina."
She sighed and opened her eyes. "It is not your doing, Coventry. You bear no guilt in this."
"But it is not what we planned," he replied, his voice low and expression grave. "Christina, we thought that this meeting would be whispered about by the ton and that he would come to know of it by the evening. Your sister is speaking with your brother at this very moment, and I have not yet had opportunity to share with my sister and Lord Kinsley about it all. We thought we had time still, and yet now — "
"We must make the best of it, somehow," she responded, trying to prevent herself from shaking. "Perhaps this evening, we will all need to be on our guard when it comes to Lord Pennington."
He leaned across the table towards her, his grey eyes dark with worry. "Mayhap you should not step out at all."
A soft smile brushed across her lips. "I cannot and will not hide, Coventry," she answered, gently. "That is what we are seeking not to do any longer, is it not?" She watched emotions play across his face, one after the other. His concern for her was deep, rooted in the love that he held for her, but she was not about to let that concern overwhelm them both. They had to find a way to overcome Lord Pennington's threats, and whilst she was well aware that their plan had not followed as they had intended, they would simply have to make the best of it. "I am not afraid of him. Not when I know that you will stand by me regardless." Looking into his eyes, she forced tension out of her frame.
"Of course I shall," he promised, the trust between them warming her. "Once we are finished here, I will go to speak with Kinsley at once. You are right, Christina. We cannot let his threat hold us back, no matter how great it becomes."
"I look forward to seeing you again this evening." Lord Coventry smiled, held her fingers in his and bowed over them, his lips dancing across her skin and stealing her breath in the process. "Do be careful, my love."
Christina gestured for her maid to climb inside the carriage while she herself lingered, emotion swelling in her chest as she gazed back into his eyes. "I do not want to step away from you."
Lord Coventry's eyes melded to hers. "Perhaps soon, we might be able to speak of a time when such a separation will never happen again. When we can share each day rather than stepping in and out of each other's lives."
The whispering ache of love in her heart, so fierce and bold in its depths, sent a tremor through Christina's frame as she pressed his fingers, struggling to find enough strength to respond in words. What he was offering her, what he held out to her heart, was all that she had ever truly desired.
