Page 70 of Engaging Sir Isaac

You said you could love me. I wish it were so. With my whole heart.

It was written before he’d confessed his love for her in full. Sometime between her nap in the hammock and their last words to each other. Why send him the letter, unfinished? It didn’t make sense.

Isaac examined the paper again, then the direction. He raised his gaze from the scrawled words to Lord Neil, who appeared as perplexed as he. “You had nothing to do with these notes finding their way into the box?”

“Nothing at all.” Lord Neil shrugged. “I confess to enjoying the mystery about them.”

“And are you to report to your sister on my reaction?” Isaac asked, allowing his anger to taint the words.

To his surprise, the lord laughed at that. “Not at all.”

“So you do not care that Miss Wedgewood fulfilled her part of the agreement?” he asked carefully.

Lord Neil’s smile was slow and full of whatever knowledge the man thought he had. “My sister apparently bays for your blood, Sir Isaac. I do not know why, nor do I wish to, but she has been thwarted. Given her reaction to her own note from Miss Wedgewood, that is. How strange you would think the young woman accomplished the task set for her.”

“I have never liked you, Lord Neil.” Isaac watched the man as he spoke, saw the momentary flicker of emotion in his eye. Anger, perhaps. “But you inspired confidence in Miss Wedgewood. Enough for her to trust you with her things and her words. She seemed to have a certain fondness for you.”

Nothing had prepared the man for that comment, apparently, given the way his smirk melted away. He cleared his throat. “Miss Wedgewood is a unique woman. She claims to have seen something in me. Something good. Decent, even. I could not let her down this time. I am unlikely to have cause to do her a favor again.”

“That being said,” Isaac went on, “thank you for delivering this. Perhaps you might find a way to keep your sister from adding Miss Wedgewood to her list of people to revenge herself upon.”

“Perhaps.” Lord Neil dusted off the sleeves of his coat. “Perhaps you and that brother-in-law of yours ought to come to the house today. My father is still at home. He might find what you two have to say about my sister’s activities…interesting.” He abruptly bowed. “For now, good day, Sir Isaac.”

“Lord Neil.” Isaac bowed as the man swept past him to the door, puzzling over his words no more than an instant before the painful news returned to the forefront of his mind.

Millie had left. All he had of her was a box, a letter, and a location. Then there was Lord Neil’s suggestion. Intriguing as it was, Isaac sent word to the stables to ready his horse.

In little time, he was in Silas’s study, explaining the situation as best he could. He had little evidence to support all that Millie had told him. Would his word be enough to involve the marquess?

“All we can do is try.” Silas huffed and bestowed a dark scowl upon Isaac. “Why did you not involve me before?”

“I made a promise to a young woman.” Isaac tried to smile. “But as she has fled the area I thought it best to confide in you. You know the Marquess. Will he listen to us?”

Silas rose from his desk with purpose. Apparently, there would be no delay in dealing with Lady Olivia. “It will take cleverness. Let me do the talking.”

Isaac snorted. “Thank you for that.”

The earl realized what he had said and chuckled. “Sorry for that. I did not mean to imply you lacked cleverness. But we all know you are apt to speak without thinking.”

That trait had cost him a great deal over the years. If it had removed Millie from the possibility of loving him, he would ache for her the rest of his days. Then Lady Olivia would win.

“It irritates me how accurate that statement is, but I do intend to remedy that.” He gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

A hard smile appeared upon Silas’s face. The sort of smile his political opponents would be terrified to see if he ever showed them more than his stony mask. “We shall.”

Given the serious nature of their visit to the marquess, Silas insisted on taking the carriage bearing his family’s coat of arms. Though he wished to tap his foot with impatience, Isaac forced himself to maintain composure. Charging in to the marquess’s home with accusations and little evidence would not achieve his purpose.

He distracted himself by thinking of Millie on the afternoon she slept in the hammock, beneath the trees. The world had been at peace around them for a precious hour, and then her kiss…

The carriage came to the door at last, and Isaac breathed easier. He kept Millie’s image in his mind and heart, making her the center of his thoughts.

They arrived at the Alderton estate and were shown to the library to await the marquess. Given Silas’s avoidance of the house for more than a year, his presence alone would indicate the seriousness of the matter to the other nobleman.

The Marquess of Alderton, Reginald Duncan, entered his library. He was an older man, nearing seventy, but still carried himself with confidence. His black hair was shot through with gray streaks, his eyes were the color of iron. Lord Neil, who entered after his father and closed the doors behind them, looked nothing like his father.

“Inglewood.” The marquess offered an abbreviated bow. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” His eyes flicked briefly to Isaac, then back to Silas.

Lord Neil came into the room and took a seat, without waiting for either of the lords who outranked him to do so. His father briefly scowled at him, but Lord Neil ignored everyone. For the first time, Isaac wondered how much of Lord Neil’s arrogant boredom was an act. He had as good as told Isaac to confront his father, yet acted as though nothing of consequence was to take place.