“Miss Caroline?”
“Both,” Miss Caroline said. Then she glanced at the cradle again. She lowered her voice with a degree of care that somehow drew more attention to the cradle. “Is that—is that the child?”
“Yes,” Isadora replied pleasantly. “She is sleeping, and we are rather hoping she continues to.” She handed Miss Caroline her cup. “She has strong opinions about being woken.”
“Goodness.” Miss Caroline studied the cradle with the expression of someone encountering a sleeping animal of uncertain temperament. “How—how very small she is. How lovely.”
“She is one year old,” Isadora explained. “They tend to be at that age.”
Lady Pembley smiled at that. It was a genuine smile, which surprised her slightly. “You seem very comfortable with her already, Your Grace.”
“She is easy to be comfortable with,” Isadora said, meaning it. “She has a very decided character for someone with so little vocabulary.”
“Rather like her guardian,” Miss Caroline murmured, almost to herself. Then she seemed to remember where she was and looked up with a bright expression. “I only mean… James has always been—” She cleared her throat. “He has always been rather forthright.”
James…
Isadora lifted her teacup and took a measured sip. Though she very much wanted to hurl it at her.
The name sat in her chest like a rock, but she kept her expression serene.
“Indeed,” she agreed. “He is.”
“He always found his way to our box at the theatre,” Miss Caroline added pleasantly. “We had such delightful evenings at Covent Garden last spring. We even sawThe School for Scoundrelstogether last spring at Haymarket.” She smiled fondly. “We laughed dreadfully throughout the second act.”
Isadora blinked.
It has been called The School for Scandal since Richard Brinsley Sheridan wrote it in 1777.
She pressed her lips together, itching to correct the woman. It was not the moment. “School for Scandal,” she muttered under her breath.
Miss Caroline paused. “I beg your pardon?”
“I only said that it was a wonderful play,” Isadora said smoothly. “Sheridan was very gifted.”
“Oh, tremendously.” Caroline nodded enthusiastically. “He has such a talent for comedy.”
He had.He died last year. But never mind.
A brief silence settled over the room.
Outside, a bird landed on the window ledge and then thought better of it. The fire popped once. Violet remained asleep.
Mercifully.
“I understand the Season ended rather abruptly for you as well,” Lady Pembley spoke up, with the manner of someone opening a door they had been planning to open for some time. “The news about the duchy must have been very sudden.”
“It was.” Isadora nodded.
“A great deal changed very quickly.” Lady Pembley gave her a technically sympathetic look. “For everyone.”
The last two words arrived with a weight disproportionate to their size.
Isadora looked at her steadily. “Change often does come quickly. As I said, I have found Ashbourne very welcoming.”
“I am sure of that,” Miss Caroline said. There was something careful in her voice now, something measured over feeling. She looked down at her gloves, then up again. “James is very capable of making people feel… settled. Comfortable.” She smiled briefly. “He has always been.”
There it was.
