Page 21 of The Lover's Eye
Giles heard a gentle swish at his side, the sound crackling in the quiet room.He met Isobel’s gaze, and his pulse deepened.She was leaning toward him, the drape of her shawl brushing his coat sleeve.
“I should have known you’d be the decent one,” she said softly.Though she smiled, her attempt at playfulness was tarnished by melancholy.It was written all over her face.
♦
Dinner dragged on, time inching in agony once the ladies retired to the drawing room and left Giles and Pemberton to their port.Giles made a point to be quiet during the whole affair—not only was it his preference, but he was in no mood to entertain the man sitting across from him.Rough manners were one thing, but opening Isobel’s letters?It was a violent breach of trust between two people who hardly knew each other to begin with.
When Pemberton at last rose, Giles followed him up to the drawing room where the ladies waited.Marriane had embroidery in her lap, but was staring into the fire, not seeming to have made a single stitch.Isobel was seated across from her, pressed into the seatback with a book.
An unstoppable grin formed at Giles’s lips.What was it?Wordsworth?And why was his mind ten paces ahead, envisioning her occupying the chair opposite himinhislibrary, under far more intimate associations than that of a house guest.
“What’ll it be tonight?”Pemberton asked.“Whist?”
Marriane’s dark eyes lifted.“I’m feeling poorly, dearest.Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?”
“As you wish,” Pemberton said.He offered his arm, and Marriane leveled a soft-spoken apology at Giles as they passed out of the room.
Isobel sat her book aside, her gaze connecting with Giles’s.
“I hope Lady Pemberton is recovering from her illness?”he asked, his voice sounding unsteady even to his own ear.
“I do not think her health is in any immediate danger tonight,” Isobel said, smiling.“If I’m not mistaken, she’s retired early by design.”
And a good design it was.The whole hellish evening was suddenly worth it: Giles’s suffering had earned him a rarified moment alone with Isobel.“May I?”he asked, tipping his chin toward the vacated chair.
“Of course.”She looked over her shoulder to address the waiting footman.“Could we have some tea?”
The man nodded his assent and dipped from the room.Giles smoothed his black coat and settled down across from her.The stuffy room was almost startling in its peacefulness, and he figured the quality was owed more to Miss Ridgeway’s presence than anything else.
“Did you enjoy your port?”
“Yes, quite.And you your reading?”
She smiled at the book in her lap, giving one shoulder a shrug.“Yes, though I admit I’ve read it more than a few times.”
Maybe his gift wasn’t such a terrible idea, after all.When the footman returned with the tea tray, he would gather his courage and ask for the parcel to be brought up.Besides, tonight might be his only opportunity.His last chance to make a favorable impression.
“About what Pemberton said,” he began, shifting in his seat.“Will you … be leaving?”
Isobel drew in a deep breath.“I suppose I must.”
“You don’t sound as though you want to.”
Her fingers fidgeted over some invisible defect in her gown, her smooth oval nails teasing the primrose silk.“I’m afraid there isn’t much consideration for my wants, Lord Trevelyan.Perhaps if you knew the people in question …”
Giles leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees.“I believe you already know this, but I’m going to say it anyway.”
Isobel’s hand stilled, the full force of her attention zeroing in on him.
“The Everly Ball is in April.It is always in April.”
“I know.”Her voice was scarcely above a whisper.
Giles leaned back, crossing a booted foot over his knee.“I confess to being curious, then, as to why you would obey this false summons.”
“My chief concern in life is keeping the peace, Lord Trevelyan.In my household, and where the Sempills are concerned, that often means avoiding censure.Even if it costs me.”
Giles didn’t need to point out the obvious faults with that enterprise; he could see it in those somber grey eyes—Isobel already knew them.“And what will leaving Northumberland cost you?”
