Page 1 of The Lover's Eye
1
Cumberland, England
January 1814
Thursday evenings turned Isobel Ridgeway into a mathematician.
The dinner courses went by faster when she counted down the number that remained.If she made some vague, monosyllabic sound every three bites or so, very little conversation was expected from her.And if she took care not to extend her left elbow more than forty-five degrees from her side, it never brushed Captain Elias Sempill.
“Say, Lord Ridgeway, when was the last time you had a chimney sweep out?”Lady Sempill, the young captain’s mother, peered over her shoulder at the fire smoking in the grate.
The old viscount shrugged, and without waiting to swallow his mouthful of mutton, addressed his daughter.“Damned if I know.What do you make of it, Isobel?”
She was struggling to drag her knife through the fatty meat on her plate, but lifted her eyes.“I couldn’t say.Marriane always sorted the household matters.”
“Why, she’s been married for over a twelvemonth now!”Lady Sempill exclaimed, the black feather tittering in her grey hair.“It is crucial someone assumes these responsibilities, lest the entire house catch aflame.It is a woman’s responsibility, and you are certainly of age, ma’am.”
Isobel took her lower lip between her teeth, casting for a reply.She had known the Sempills for all eternity, and they always addressed her with the utmost informality.Unless, of course, their tempers were heating.
“I’ll speak with Father, when we return home,” Elias said at her side.“He’s bound to know a good chimney sweep.”
“Iknow a good chimney sweep,” Lady Sempill said, arching a brow.“A very thin child, able to fit in the narrowest of—”
Isobel winced at the thought of sending a child up the soot-blackened flues.A young boy had gotten stuck in one of the chimneys at Ridgeway House before, and by the time he was twisted out by the rope around his waist, he had burns and scrapes all over his flesh.
She hadn’t forgotten about the dirty chimneys.She just hadn’t wanted to subject another child to that cruelty.
The wind howled bitterly outside, and a gust swept down the chimney, forcing a billow of black smoke into the room and silencing Lady Sempill.Two footmen appeared immediately, adjusting the screens before the hearth.The older woman broke into a spasm of coughs and ran a hand up the back of her stiff coiffure.
“Very well,” Lord Ridgeway said with a weighted sigh.“I’ll look into the matter.”
“You mention your sister,” Elias said, leaning a little nearer to Isobel.“Have you heard from her lately?I imagine the coast is bitterly cold in winter.”
She smiled faintly at him, trying—not for the first time—to find attraction in those sharply hewn, narrow features.But all she saw was her childhood friend, not the dashing captain everyone expected her to wed.
“We write to each other.You know Marriane, however.Most of her letters are about new draperies or the latest French receipts.”Isobel ducked her chin.“She sounds happy enough.”
“I don’t know how she could be, married to that damned impudent man,” Lord Ridgeway burst in.“Hasn’t even brought her ’round for a visit.Not once in eighteen months, mind you.”
“Oh, but the marquess seems very amiable, indeed,” Lady Sempill said.“I’d wager Marriane lives in such comfort at his side, she’s no desire to travel about.”
The old viscount shook his head roughly enough to make his jowls wag.“I should’ve never let her run off to London, I tell you that.If I had it to do over—matter of fact, Isobel, never ask me for a blasted Season.Understand?”
“I have no desire for a Season, Papa.”
A thunderous banging sounded in the distance, and every hand stilled.The doorknocker was so seldom used, Isobel almost didn’t recognize its sound.
“Callers?”Lady Sempill asked, her mouth falling open.
“Impossible,” Lord Ridgeway said, gesturing for more wine to be poured.
The front door opened with a distant creak, and Isobel could pick out the timbre of the butler’s voice, though none of his words were clear.
“Who on earth could be calling at Ridgeway House?”Lady Sempill asked again.She sat down her knife and raised a hand to her breast.
On this rare occasion, Isobel shared her sentiments.The only visitors she and her father received were the pair in front of them now, who made the short journey every Thursday evening for dinner.It was unthinkable to have a caller at this hour, come so far into the country on a black winter’s night.
“What’s the trouble?”Lord Ridgeway shouted.
