Page 14 of Engaging Sir Isaac

His sister came up beside him, standing near enough for the baby in her arms to reach out and pat at his sleeve. “I think she is quite lonely in that house. Lady Olivia is not a warm or kind person. From our conversation, I think Miss Wedgewood might be a reluctant guest. I am under the impression her mother worked out the arrangement.”

Isaac tried to shrug off the doubt, and the accompanying guilt, that his sister’s theory inspired. “You think the best of people, Essie. I love that about you, but I cannot say I am inspired to think as well of Miss Wedgewood as you do.” He watched a gull pass outside the window on its way to the beach.

“She will be here all of summer,” Esther told him. “Perhaps you will have time enough to form your own opinion of her. An opinion that has less to do with what you think of Lady Olivia and more to do with Miss Wedgewood’s merits.” She stood on her toes and placed a kiss upon his cheek. “Come to dinner at the vicarage tomorrow, Isaac. I miss you.”

“You see me nearly every day,” he protested, a corner of his mouth pulling back despite himself. He had received an invitation from Jacob and Grace Barnes, two of his dearest friends, but had yet to decide on whether to attend.

That worried look came into his sister’s eyes again. The same one Silas had laid upon him minutes before. “I am grateful for that.”

He needed to leave before she tried to pry his thoughts from him again.

Isaac bowed, made his excuses, and slipped from the room after promising to come to dinner. The moment he stepped out of doors, he drew in a deep breath of the warm summer air, closing his eyes against the breeze.

It should not be difficult to visit with his closest friend and his sister. It should be the easiest thing in the world to sit with them, passing hours in their company and conversation, but sitting still for any amount of time had become more and more difficult of late.

Idleness did not sit well with Isaac. He itched to move. To do something constructive. There were hours of quiet in the war, but they had been filled with expectation for the next battle, the next set of orders.

Orders did not come anymore. Isaac had to set his own battle plans, had to see to himself.

A phantom itch on his left hand made his right hand twitch. But he did not reach to scratch the hand that no longer existed. It had taken some time, but he at last trained the response out of himself. Someday, that ghostly sensation would pass all together. As too would his restlessness.

At least, that was his hope.

Chapter 6

When the invitation arrived from a Mr. and Mrs. Barnes to join them for dinner, Millie held it in her hands with absolute puzzlement. She sat at the breakfast table, Lady Olivia opposite her and Lord Neil several chairs down. The marchioness took breakfast in her bedroom, as she had every day since Millie’s arrival.

No one looked up from their own correspondence to even notice that the butler had handed her a note upon her own silver tray. Millie turned the invitation over, looking for some hint as to who these people were and why they might wish her company for that same evening.

“Pardon me,” she said at last, drawing Lord Neil’s attention while Lady Olivia’s glance barely flicked up from a letter she read with a smirk. “Are either of you acquainted with a Mr. and Mrs. Barnes?”

Lord Neil’s chin came up, and he glanced to Olivia. His sister, for her part, finally put down the paper in her hands. “Barnes? He is our vicar.”

“And a friend to Fox,” Lord Neil added, folding his arms over his chest. “What are you about, Livvy?”

She slanted a glare in his direction. “Do not call me that.” Then the elegant woman turned to Millie, her perfectly rouged lips pressing together as she thought. “Is that an invitation from the vicarage? I recognize the stationary.” She sniffed. “Cheaply made paper.”

Millie hadn’t noticed that the quality of the paper wanted any in quality, but she said nothing to this. “They have invited me to dinner this evening, but I have never met them.”

“Curious.” Lord Neil’s expression remained thoughtful, but not unkind. Lady Olivia appeared almost gloating. “If you have not met them, I imagine one of their other guests for the evening asked for the invitation on your behalf.”

“You are making progress,” Olivia said a little too brightly. “Mr. and Mrs. Barnes make up part of that little club. How did you go about entering their circle with such speed? I am impressed.”

As Millie had done nothing to secure the invitation in her hands, her insides squirmed. She glanced at Lord Neil, who only raised an eyebrow at her, and then lowered her eyes back to the neat handwriting upon the paper. “I will accept the invitation. If it is from a vicar and his wife, there can be no harm in attending a dinner with them.”

“No harm?” Lord Neil asked, retrieving his cup of coffee from the table. He did not look at his sister again, but Millie instinctively felt he spoke to her with his next words. “It remains to be seen, but meddling with that group of people cannot end well.” He put his cup down after no more than a sip, then stood. “Good morning to you both, Olivia, Miss Wedgewood.” He left the room at a leisurely pace, as though he had nowhere in particular to go.

“I am impressed, Miss Wedgewood.” Lady Olivia’s deep green eyes gleamed like a cat’s, ready to set upon some small, helpless creature. “You will have to tell me all about this dinner party.” Then she stood from the table, gathering her letters in her hands. “Good day to you.” She left without so much as a curtsy or another word, without giving Millie leave to join her later, or any sort of invitation to spend time with her.

Alone at the table, with only footmen standing along the edge of the wall to fill the silence with their quiet breathing, Millie took one last bite of cold toast. A swallow of tea washed it down.

She left the dining room, making for her quarters. Sarah would need to be told about the invitation; they would pick out a dress together. And then Millie would pass the hours until she left in the art room, inking out the design she had drawn upon the plain box Lady Inglewood had given her. It was the perfect size to hold a gentleman’s pens, pipes, or letters.

If she did not go mad from the quiet, from the near-loneliness of being ignored, it would be a pleasant day indeed.

* * *

Word came an hour before the appointed time for dinner that the Earl of Inglewood had generously offered his carriage to take Millie to dinner. That explained her invitation. If the countess and earl were friends to the vicar and his wife, they likely orchestrated the entire evening. The generosity in her inclusion surprised Millie.