Page 26 of Engaging Sir Isaac

“My family was ruined when we gave insult to a duke’s grandson, and he took it upon himself to remove us from Society.” She stated the truth without embellishment of tone or words.

Isaac had nothing to say. Not immediately. He stared at her, uncertain. Most would mumble an apology, try to end the moment of discomfort. He had witnessed it many times himself, when people asked about the loss of his arm and he told them without pride or bravado it had been blown off because he was not where he was supposed to be at the moment the loss occurred. He only treated the loss lightly when with his friends, the people who knew him. Strangers had no business asking such questions.

Yet he had asked this woman to answer a similar inquiry.

“Forgive me for asking, Miss Wedgewood. My sister says the war made me forget my manners. Perhaps she is right.” That was the right thing to say this time.

She shrugged, lowering her eyes and lifting her bonnet. She smoothed the ribbon Little Isaac had gummed and drooled upon. “I did not have to answer. You said you preferred directness. I offered it to you. But now you owe me an answer, sir.”

That seemed fair. “You have but to ask the question.”

“Might we be friends now?”

Of all the things she might have asked, he hadn’t expected that. “Friends?”

“I have few enough of them.” She put the bonnet back upon her head, leaving the ribbons to dangle loosely down her shoulders. She tilted her head down, the bonnet’s brim obscuring her expression somewhat. “Never mind. It was a foolish thought. I will not be in the neighborhood long.” She spoke dismissively, but there was a hint, the barest touch, of vulnerability in her voice.

Why would a woman such as herself, an outcast of Society or not, wish to befriend him? He had been nothing but rude to her since their first meeting.

He hadn’t made it easy on anyone, not even his sister and Silas, to act as friends. Truly, the only reason his morose moods and unsociable behavior was tolerated by those he counted as friends was due to the longevity of their relationships. They were patient with him, because they loved him. He hadn’t allowed anyone new to come close to a relationship with him.

Strangers generally saw only the social mask he wore that lied to the world about the state of his mind. Yet the unfortunate Millie Wedgewood hadn’t even seen that pleasant falsehood.

“Then perhaps we can make it a temporary arrangement.” Isaac watched as she raised her head, her eyes widening. “I will be your friend for as long as you are in the neighborhood. Does that suit you?”

Her posture relaxed and a hint of her playful smile returned. “It does. Thank you.”

“Here you are,” Essie’s voice said from the break in the hedges. “I am terribly sorry, but it took much longer than expected to put myself to rights.” She came across the grass, fixing Isaac with a serious frown. “I hope you have behaved yourself, Isaac.”

“Me?” he asked, feigning innocence. “I always behave myself.”

His sister’s expression well told how much credence she gave that remark. “Has my son caused as much trouble as his uncle?”

Millie laughed while Isaac started to splutter a protest. “I assure you, my lady, both Isaacs have put me completely at ease.”

Essie bent and swooped up her baby in her arms, causing the little one to squeal happily. “That is exactly what I wish to hear. Come now. Let us all go inside for some refreshment. Isaac, I assume you will wish to keep us company for a time?”

Isaac came to his feet without difficulty and with enough speed he was able to offer his hand to Miss Wedgewood to help her stand. He had forgotten his glove on the ground, so when her bare hand landed in his, soft and small, it surprised him enough that warmth bloomed in his chest.

Assisting her to stand, Isaac did not immediately relinquish her hand. She raised her gaze to his and offered him a tentative smile, a blush appearing upon her cheeks. “Thank you, Sir Isaac.”

He tilted his head forward. “Miss Wedgewood.” When she released her hold on him, following after Essie to the house, Isaac curled his hand into a fist. How strange. Between their discussion and that simple touch, something had shifted. He had pledged himself her friend. That had to account for the sudden feeling, the awareness of her size, and the strange urge to keep her hand tucked in his.

He scooped the glove up from the ground and gathered the forgotten shawl and blanket at the same time. Then he followed after the ladies, his earlier somberness tucked away. Hope that the afternoon might prove more pleasant than his morning made Isaac’s step lighter.

Chapter 9

Spending an afternoon in the company of Lady Inglewood and her brother did more to damage Millie’s confidence than anything had before. They were good people. Of course, Sir Isaac had been a bit grumpy at first, but given the man’s protective nature, she understood why he had viewed her with suspicion. One had but to see him with his infant nephew to glimpse a gentler side of him. And nothing about Lady Inglewood indicated she was the prideful peacock Lady Olivia had claimed.

Millie sat in the music room with the family, between the countess and baronet, before dinner. They had arranged a short row of chairs facing the pianoforte where the earl himself entertained them with a new piece of music from Austria. He played quite well, and apparently his performance was not the first of its kind.

Not a single member of the marquess’s family had welcomed Millie. Nor had anyone been as kind to her as the people in the room at that very moment. Yet she had agreed to earn their trust only to betray it. Lady Olivia would settle for nothing else, and Millie’s mother expected her to perform her part to put them back at the top of Society.

When the earl finished the lively piece, his countess applauded him, and Millie did as well. Sir Isaac, with only the one hand, clapped it heartily against his thigh.

“That was most entertaining, Silas,” said the baronet. He had let his guard down enough that he wore an actual smile. The warmth in his countenance, now fully relaxed, set her much more at ease.

The countess rose gracefully from her chair and went to her husband, looking over the music with him to choose another piece. Millie folded her hands in her lap and turned to Isaac, again wondering what he had done to earn the enmity of Lady Olivia.