Page 16 of Engaging Sir Isaac

The vicar’s wife perked up. “We have access to the beach from here, too. If we were not all in our evening finery, I would suggest a walk after dinner.”

Millie experienced a strange twinge to her conscience. These women were quick to include her in their doings. Very unlike Lady Olivia, or any of the women of Society she had attempted to befriend in the past. But perhaps, if they knew her background, they would not welcome her without hesitation. Her place as a guest to Lady Olivia likely gave them no reason to suspect her anything other than a welcome member of Society.

Still. The invitations were kind and gratifying. “I would be happy to take a walk, even in my finery.” Sarah might not appreciate the sand in her slippers, but a walk at sunset would be marvelous. It was still early enough in the evening, with dinner occurring at seven o’clock as country hours dictated, that it would be near sunset when they finished. Though the beach faced eastward, it would be lovely to walk along the shore at dusk.

A door opened and closed, then a familiar voice shouted through the house. “If you have started dinner without me, I will take it as a grave insult.”

The men in the room exchanged grins, then the vicar went to the parlor door and opened it, raising his voice as he spoke. “We would never dare consume so much as a crumb without you, for we would never hear the end of it.”

“Good.”

The vicar stepped back, opening the door wider, and Millie felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle the instant Sir Isaac entered the room. Her pulse sped up, though with anxiety or enthusiasm even she could not be certain. Did he expect to see her, or would he be as surprised by her inclusion as she had been regarding his?

She rose and turned to the door, keeping her eyes lowered as she dropped her curtsy. Everyone else might be on familiar terms, but she was a newcomer and hadn’t been invited to drop any of her formal behavior yet. When she raised her eyes, her gaze immediately clashed with Sir Isaac’s. His eyes were dark, the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown, and no sooner had their eyes met than he turned his stare to his sister.

“Miss Wedgewood,” he said, none of the prior warmth from his shouts in the hall evident. He bowed to her, quite stiffly. “I did not know you would be a guest here this evening.”

Heat filled her cheeks, though she knew she ought not to let the baronet have such an effect upon her. His tone implied she had no right to her invitation. If he knew her true purpose in being present, how much more disapproving and cross would he become? She cleared her throat, staving off the guilty thoughts. The man had proven himself unpleasant to all but his friends thus far. Lady Olivia’s description of his character fit better and better with every meeting between Millie and Sir Isaac.

“I could not resist inviting her,” Mrs. Barnes said, her tone cheerful. “There are not nearly enough pleasant ladies about with whom to pass an evening, and I knew from Esther’s account that Miss Wedgewood must make a fine addition to our conversation.” She started to stand, and her husband hurried to assist her, as her large midsection seemed to put the small woman off balance.

“Men never understand a woman’s need for female companionship,” the countess added with a superior tilt to her head, as though she hadn’t noticed the glare her brother sent in her direction.

A woman in a clean apron appeared at the door and curtsied. “Dinner is ready, Mr. Barnes.”

“Excellent.” The vicar took his wife’s arm, and Millie caught his murmured, “Not a moment too soon.”

She lowered her eyes to the floor, attempting to regain her sense of balance. She had every right to her invitation, to her place as a guest. When she raised her eyes, ready to follow the group into the next room for dinner, her heart leaped somewhat alarmingly to find Sir Isaac standing beside her with his arm extended. He meant to escort her to the table, despite his obvious disapproval of her?

But there was no one else. The earl and his wife had taken the vicar’s escort of his own wife as their guide, apparently. The married couples were exiting the room.

Hesitantly, Millie put her gloved hand upon the baronet’s arm. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Sir Isaac,” she said softly. He hadn’t liked her flirtation, and Lord Neil had said not to attack him head on. Perhaps humility would achieve more than flattery.

Sir Isaac tipped his head forward, acknowledging her words without returning the nicety. Disagreeable man. Could he not even pretend it was pleasant to lay eyes upon her again? Granted, she had given him little cause to like her thus far. Spying, proving an annoying dinner companion, and showing up where he did not want her.

What would a captain in the British army appreciate most? If not a direct assault, perhaps at least a direct conversation.

“I did not know you would be here,” she whispered as they entered the dining room with its large window facing a hill and the distant graying sea.

His gaze slid to hers, but barely from the corner of his eyes. “Nor was I informed of your invitation, Miss Wedgewood.” He spoke her surname with such distaste. It was not as though she could help what her ancestors had been called.

The table had six chairs about it, and the whole thing was round. No head or foot. A round table. Mr. and Mrs. Barnes took seats beside each other, the earl and his wife to the right of Mrs. Barnes, leaving a chair next to the vicar for Millie and the remaining seat to her reluctant escort.

What an odd seating arrangement.

The baronet held her chair out for her before taking his seat directly to her left. Before there was so much as a moment of silence, Mrs. Barnes and Lady Inglewood took up the topic of a summer gathering hosted at the Inglewood estate.

“There must be activities for everyone. Horseshoes, bowling, battledore, and a cricket game,” the countess said, her eyes sparkling brightly. “I thought I would speak to Lady Alderton, to make certain our plans do not spoil any aspects of her house party. But I do desire some sort of entertainment.”

“I dare say people are always looking for a good time,” her husband said, less solemn than before, giving his wife an affectionate glance even Millie could not help but observe. “What does it matter if they play cricket at our estate one week and then at Alderton Meadows the next?”

Mrs. Barnes lowered her spoon into her soup with a delicate air. “Men do not understand the planning that goes into these activities.”

“We do not want Lady Alderton to feel as though we are attempting to usurp her plans.” Lady Inglewood flipped a stray brown curl back behind her ear, then turned her cheery expression toward Millie. “Have you any knowledge of the schedule for the house party? It begins in less than a fortnight now.”

“In nine days.” Millie had counted each one carefully, hoping to have sorted out Sir Isaac before the next gentleman quarry came into view. “I am afraid I have not been given any details.” No one had told her anything, except the date on which other guests would arrive. At least that meant no one could expect her to take part in any of the planning, either.

“I imagine they will have all the usual sorts of activities.” Sir Isaac, at her left, spoke dryly. “Picnics, riding parties, visits to the abbey ruins, and evening entertainments at the house.”