Hyacinth’s hand fell away from the door. “I don’t understand. I was so certain he…did he find out what happened in Scotland, and was angry you’d kept it a secret from him?”
Isla gave a cold laugh. “Oh, no. I don’t think he even knows about that. No, it seems my brief sojourn in the library with Lord Sydney shocked him back to his senses. He must have heard the gossip, and assumed the worst. After all, no proper young lady would ever wander off with a gentleman in such a scandalous manner.”
“But—”
“No, Hyacinth. I’m glad for it, truly.” Isla rose from the bed, looking wearier than Hyacinth had ever seen her. “He can’t have cared much for me, can he? Such a man as that would never have forgiven me my past, and since I had no intention of keeping it from him, this break was inevitable. It’s just as well it happened sooner rather than later, don’t you agree? Though I confess myself surprised Lord Pierce would credit idle gossip over my explanation.”
This last was said with some bitterness, and Hyacinth could see Isla didn’t wish to discuss it further, but she couldn’t let it drop yet—not when Isla’s future hung in the balance. “I thought better of Lord Pierce than this. How shall we proceed, then? I’m afraid last night’s scandal is too recent to have any hopes for a match for you this season, but perhaps next year—”
“Oh, there’s no need to fret on my account. I won’t end a spinster, despite Lord Pierce’s dismissal. I, ah…I’m going to marry Lord Sydney.”
“Lord Sydney!” Hyacinth’s mouth dropped open. “When was that decided?”
“He made me an offer several weeks ago, and I wrote him this morning, accepting his proposals. My brothers will have to approve it, of course, but they will, and gladly. Who could object to Lord Sydney? He’s a dear man, and a perfect gentleman.”
Hyacinth didn’t argue that point. She’d always been fond of Lord Sydney, and there was no denying he’d make Isla an excellent match.
But…
“Do you love him, Isla?”
Isla’s forlorn little sigh seemed to rise straight from her broken heart. “It’s not a love match on either side, but I care for him very much, and I know he feels the same for me. We get on well, and he’s…well, he’s a dear friend. It’s a great deal more than many ladies can claim upon marriage.”
Once again, it wasn’t a point Hyacinth could argue. It all made perfect sense, and yet that didn’t stop her heart from sinking in her chest.
Isla noticed her downcast expression, and let out a sad little laugh. “Oh, don’t look so grim, Hyacinth. I didn’t have much hope my season would end in a love match. First James Baird, and now Lord Pierce…well, I no longer believe in fairy-tale endings.”
They were both quiet for a long while after that, but then Isla offered Hyacinth a wan smile. “Last night, in the library with Lord Dixon—Lord Sydney was marvelous, wasn’t he? Once he saw that bit of wax, he simply charged forward, without hesitation, and without question.”
“Yes. He was quite heroic.”
“Indeed. When he first offered his hand, I told him about my past—the entire awful story. I thought he’d regret his proposals once he knew, and I was prepared to release him, but do you know what he did, Hyacinth?”
Hyacinth shook her head. “No. What?”
“He took my hand, raised it to his lips, and said my past was of no consequence to him. He said he cared only for our future.” Isla had been looking off into space, her eyes cloudy as she recalled that moment, but when her gaze shifted back to Hyacinth, they were bright and clear. “What a man says is of far less importance than what he does.” Isla repeated her words from earlier, her voice soft. “Do you understand?”
Isla’s words, and the brave tilt of her chin made Hyacinth want to burst into tears, but she choked them back, and smiled at her friend. “I do. I understand, Isla.”
“Go and find my brother, then.” Isla made a shooing motion toward the door. “I daresay he’ll make an ass of himself again before it’s all settled, but I have great faith in your strength, Hyacinth. I always did.”
* * * *
“I don’t know why you’re still sitting here, Lach. After a proposal like that, I’d be in my bedchamber checking for poisonous snakes between my bedsheets.” Ciaran bounced his foot against his knee and studied his brother with an abstracted air.
Lachlan, who was slumped on one of the settees with his head in his hands, didn’t bother to reply. He’d made a bloody mess of this, though even now, he couldn’t figure out how it had gone so wrong. He’d begun well enough, hadn’t he? But then he’d said something about suffering, and Hyacinth’s face had turned red…
“Did I…did I really imply marriage to her would be a misery?” Lachlan raised his head from his hands and looked at Ciaran, then Finn.
Ciaran snorted. “Imply it? Oh no, Lach. You didn’timplya damn thing. It was more like a declaration, wasn’t it, Finn?”
Finn had hurried Iris and Lady Chase from the room, then returned and resumed his post in front of the fireplace. He was standing there now, seemingly at a loss as to what to do next. “Well, it certainly wasn’t good, but if it makes you feel any better, Lachlan, I doubt Hyacinth would resort to poisonous snakes.”
“Non-poisonous snakes, then?” Ciaran asked.
Finn gave him a doubtful look. “I would say no, but then I never thought I’d hear her call anyone an ass, either.”
Lachlan dropped his head back into his hands with a defeated groan.
