He cast a curt glance about the room. Everything else that had passed between them—the tension in the carriage, the near kiss in the ballroom, and the way he had defended her against her aunt—had been put aside.
They would deal with that later.
“She wouldn’t hide anywhere too obvious,” Isadora mused aloud. “And the servants will have looked in all the regular places. She would only go where she thoughtwewould choose to look.”
“Under her bed?” Nicholas moved toward the door.
“No, that’s not where…” Isadora was shaking her head—when she suddenly had it. “Her cat!”
Nicholas stopped and turned to her, a question in his eyes. “Hercat? I thought the cat was yours.”
“She told you that so she wouldn’t get in trouble,” Isadora said impatiently, already brushing past him.
“You both went behind my back?” he glowered.
“Well,of course. Was I supposed to direct your disapproval in her direction instead? She may not be my daughter in blood, but the moment I married you, she became my daughter in heart.” Isadora gave a small, crooked smile to herself. “I know how itfeels to live without a mother, Nicholas. I would never subject another girl to that. And mothers protect their daughters.”
He looked at her, silent for a long moment, something whirring behind those glacial eyes. Then he reached up and pulled the cravat loose from his throat, and the duke went out of him with it. “Do you know where she is, then?”
“I have a hunch.” Isadora gathered her skirts as she hurried up the staircase, one flight, then the next, Nicholas close at her heels. A small ball of warmth unfurled in her chest at the thought that he had not once questioned her authority or made the slightest attempt to take charge.
That tiny act of trust meant more to her than she could ever confess.
“Three days ago,” she explained as she scurried along a corridor, “the cat started nesting.”
“Nesting?”
“I expect she’ll have her kittens sometime over the following weeks. She was looking for somewhere safe in which to have them, and passingly, I had suggested to Sophia…” She turned into one of the spare bedrooms and opened the closet door. Inside, huddled amongst spare linen and blankets was a small, disheveled girl blinking up at them. Beside her, in a nest of her own making, was Molly, glaring balefully at their uninvited intrusion.
“There you are.” Isadora kept her voice gentle and held out a hand to Sophia. “You must be exhausted, sweetheart. Come with me.”
Sophia folded her arms across her chest, her eyes glistening in the light of the candle Nicholas held. “Why should I come with you? You didn’t take me before…”
“Sophia,” Nicholas started, as though he was ready to scold her, but Isadora held up a finger, and his mouth snapped shut.
“Is that why you hid, darling? Because you wanted to punish us for leaving you behind?” Isadora’s chest ached. Ever since she’d arrived, Sophia had seemed far older than her years. A product of her upbringing, no doubt; her father had accepted her when she behaved like a little lady—questioning less and tolerating more—and so she had.
But she was still a child, and she should not be punished for having a child’s feelings, or the inability to deal with them the way an adult might.
So Isadora sat cross-legged on the floor, heedless of her gown. “Did I ever explain what sort of social this was?” she asked.
“Aball… Withdancing.” Sophia’s lower lip trembled, though she made a valiant effort to stop it. “You were dancing with Papa,” she mumbled.
“Mm. I did dance with your father. But more than that, I spoke to a lot of boring people, because it’s the first time anyone has seen me as a duchess. And do you know how many other children were there?”
“None,” Nicholas pointed out from behind her, finally understanding where she was taking this.
“You would have been expected to stand still on sore legs and smile for hours. No one was talking aboutanythinginteresting. Not how far ducks can fly, or what the sun does when it sleeps. Only about the weather and the refreshments on hand and who married whom.”
Sophia cast a wistful glance at Isadora’s gown, and understanding came at once.
So it was thedressshe wanted.
“But… I have an idea,” Isadora chimed at last. “How about you and I go shopping tomorrow for new clothes—let’s say… dresses? As pretty as this one.” She gave her shimmering skirt a little swish. “And then we shall hold a private ball of our own. I’ll play the pianoforte, and afterward we shall eat cake. An outrageous amount of it, because I had none at all this evening.”
Sophia wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and climbed stiffly out of her hiding place. “It doesn’t sound like a very good ball if there was no cake…” she murmured, and Isadora immediately opened her arms.
“Oh, it was thedullest,” she bemoaned dramatically. Sophia sank into her arms, and Isadora held her tightly, closing her eyes against the sting in her heart. “A little ball at home with the three of us would be far better.” Her lips curved. “But you know, sometimes your father and I are going tohaveto go out to balls and other boring social events, and you might not be able to come to some until you’re a lot older.”
