“I don’t know that hedoestruly love me, or even if he loves me at all.”
Isla gave a little shrug, as if it didn’t matter to her one way or the other if Lord Pierce cared for her, but Hyacinth wasn’t fooled. “But you love him, don’t you?”
Isla hesitated, but then she held up her hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m afraid I do. Terribly foolish of me, I know, but I seem to be destined for tragic love affairs.”
Hyacinth’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? Do you have dozens of tragic love affairs in your past?”
Isla laughed, but she didn’t meet Hyacinth’s eyes. “Oh, never mind me. I’m just being silly. Let’s talk of you, instead. Forgive me for asking, but have you and Lachlan had a row?”
Oh, no.Was it as obvious as that? “We, ah…why should you think we’ve had a row?”
“Because you haven’t spoken a word to each other in a week. Because I’ve never seen Lachlan more miserable. Oh, and he has a new scowl, too. Did you notice? He only ever uses it on Lord Dixon, and it’s a fearsome one. If I saw that scowl aimed at me, I’d flee London, but Lord Dixon hasn’t left your side since the Sedleys’ ball.”
He hadn’t. His attentions had been so assiduous, in fact, when he made a passing remark about playing at cards this evening, Hyacinth had come close to shoving him into the card room, just to be rid of him.
“He’s enamored of you, Hyacinth, and…oh, but you don’t look pleased. Don’t you care for him? He’s very handsome.”
Hyacinth sighed. Hewashandsome. He was also elegant and charming, intelligent, witty, and entertaining, and solicitous of her comfort. He was, in short, precisely the sort of gentleman every young lady on the marriage mart hoped to snare before the end of the season. Her grandmother was delighted with him.
And Hyacinth….wasn’t. “He’s, ah…well, he’s perfectly…that is, he’s very…”
“You don’t care for him,” Isla said, her tone matter-of-fact.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that, exactly—”
“Hyacinth Somerset, don’t you dare lie to me.”
Hyacinth covered her face, but Isla took her wrists and gently lowered them again. “It’s all right, you know. You’re not in the least obliged to care for him. It often happens that a gentleman’s regard doesn’t inspire a lady’s.”
“Or a lady’s a gentleman’s,” Hyacinth muttered, thinking of Lachlan. “What troubles me is I don’t knowwhyI don’t care for him.” Lord Dixon was warm without being too heated, polite without being distant, and proper without being haughty. In short, he was the perfect gentleman, and yet...
“There’s something about him, Isla. Something….cold? Or manipulative, perhaps? Oh, I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it, but it makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle with warning. I daresay I’m being unfair to him.”
“Yes, well, love isn’t fair, is it?”
Isla gave a short laugh, but there was such bitterness in it, Hyacinth’s eyes widened with surprise. “Isla, what—”
“Listen to your intuition, Hyacinth, especially when it comes to gentlemen. If you feel something is off with Lord Dixon, then it very likely is. If there’s one thing I wish someone had told me earlier, it’s that.”
“Yes, well, perhaps your intuition is a good deal wiser than mine. If you recall, my intuition told me Lachlan was a violent, brutal man—a murderer, for pity’s sake, and I couldn’t have been more wrong about him, could I? No, Isla. My intuition has already failed me once, with disastrous consequences. I won’t trust it again.”
“My dear friend, that wasn’t your intuition. That wasn’t an error in judgment, but a conclusion you drew from the evidence of your own eyes. I’ve seen my brothers when they brawl. They look like two giant savages bent on killing each other. Dreadful thing to watch.” Isla took Hyacinth’s hands again, and held them in hers. “There’s nothing wrong with your intuition, Hyacinth. There’s nothing wrong withyou.”
Oh, how dear Isla was. Hyacinth raised one of her friend’s hands and pressed it to her cheek. “There’s nothing wrong with you, either, no matter what thetonmight think about your parents. We need not concern ourselves with their vicious gossip. As for Lord Pierce, what does your intuition tell you about him?”
“He’s a good man, Hyacinth. The best of men, but he’s…in the end, I’m afraid he’s not meant for me.”
Isla tried to smile, but she looked as if her heart would break, and a fissure opened in Hyacinth’s own heart. “Don’t give up on him yet. Perhaps all it needs is a bit more time.”
“Perhaps. I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?” Isla released Hyacinth’s hands and turned toward the door that led back into the ballroom. “Shall we go back? Lady Joanna dragged poor Lachlan off to dance, but he’ll be looking for us as soon as she releases him from her clutches.”
“Does she ever?” As far as Hyacinth could tell, Lady Joanna had sunk her talons deeply into Lachlan, and it wasn’t clear he even wanted to get free.
Isla grinned. “Oh, every now and then he squirms loose. Are you coming?”
The last thing Hyacinth wished to see was Lachlan dancing with Lady Joanna. “Yes, in a moment. Just another breath of air, and I’ll follow you.”
Isla nodded, then she slipped back into the ballroom, leaving Hyacinth alone on the terrace. She stood for a long moment, staring into the dark garden below, a rueful smile rising to her lips as she recalled how dull she’d thought her season would be. Everything had become so twisted and tangled she couldn’t see how it would ever come right again, but it certainly hadn’t been dull—
