Page 33 of The Lover's Eye
She had barely looked at him until now, and their new closeness brought back the memory of his unwelcome advances with wretched clarity.She hastened to look away, her heart pulsing with obnoxious strength.
If Elias had said something, he didn’t repeat it.But Isobel had missed the communication of figure sequences she was supposed to be dancing.She stumbled through the first few with unconcealable awkwardness, her white satin slippers landing on her partner’s toes more than once.
Embarrassment tingled all the way to her hairline, and she managed to get through the figures only by observing the other couples and absorbing hissed instructions from Elias.When the dance at last concluded, she struggled to draw sufficient breath.
“I need to sit.”
Only after Isobel had made the request did she realize she would be taken directly to Lady Sempill’s side.She rallied quickly, asking Elias if she might stop short and sit with some other ladies of her acquaintance.“Only for a moment,” she said.“I am feeling a little faint.”
It was not a lie.
“I will find you some refreshment,” he said, leaving her with two dowagers of middle age who were vaguely familiar to her.
Isobel was relieved when the two women bore the brunt of conversation, leaving her only to nod and insert the occasional agreeance.Her thoughts wandered.She knew Pemberton and Marriane would not be in attendance, citing the distance and her sister’s health.According to her letters, Marriane was feeling much improved, and only worried such a journey would upset the healthful balance she had worked so hard to achieve.
The guest Isobel was really scanning the crowds for was Lord Trevelyan.The ghost of him lingered in her mind.It had been over two months since she’d last seen him, since he’d given her his books.She told herself she wasn’t attached to him, that she only wanted to express her thanks, but the thready rate of her pulse proved otherwise.She wanted more conversations with him.To breathe in his scent and share his books, to feel like herself and like she had an ally in this world.
It seemed a ridiculous path for her mind to tread, given the serious turn her life had taken.Lord Trevelyan could not save her.She was in no position to be daydreaming of winter storms and chance.He had moved on with his life, and she was a lady on a mission: evade marrying Elias Sempill, no matter the cost.
Even if circumstances were different and she met Trevelyan here, he would probably scowl at her, utter a few brief pleasantries, and vanish into a throng of lovelier ladies.They would never get on in true society.
“Have you ever encountered him while visiting your sister?”
One of the ladies was speaking to Isobel.Her mouth opened and closed in temporary bewilderment.“Forgive me,” she said, her gaze flitting between the four expectant eyes fixed on her.“It is so loud—could you repeat it for me?”
“Lord Trevelyan,” the blonde woman said.“Have you ever seen him while about Shoremoss Hall?”
Isobel’s blood suspended in her veins.Good God, have I spoken my thoughts aloud?The inquiring ladies leaned forward with taut interest, and she decided she was only yielding to paranoia.“O-Only briefly,” she said feebly.“I cannot say I am acquainted with him well at all.”
She only hoped her impromptu stay in his home had not reached the general gossip mill.
“It must be true, what they say,” continued the fair-haired lady.“He must be in the deepest mourning still.”
“I could not believe it, when Lady Everly said he sent his regrets.This must be the first Everly Ball he has missed in years.”
The blonde nodded, long and slow with her eyes shut reverently.“Indeed.I can only recall him declining the year his father passed.”
“I guess this was very much the same loss for him.Miss Gouldsmith was to be hiswife.She was nearly family, too.”Isobel’s companions turned their attention back to her.“Did you ever see Miss Aurelia Gouldsmith during your visits to Shoremoss Hall?”
“I—No,” Isobel said.There was no use in explaining she had only visited her sister once, well after the disappearance of Trevelyan’s bride.
“We only met her the once.Here, last year, when she arrived on Lord Trevelyan’s arm.She was lovely as sin.”The lady spoke in sensual tones so soft, Isobel had to lean closer to make out her words.“She had hair like spun gold, shiny as silk, and a figure said to lure every man in her vicinity to carnal depravity.”
The blonde dowager let out a small, indulgent gasp, and opened her fan.“Lady Anne, my bosom friend, has relations near Cambo.She says the vicar thought it his personal penance to pay, having to rear a daughter with such unruly conduct.”
“Unruly?”Isobel asked, the word breaking on her lips.She didn’t want to know; it didn’t change anything about her situation.And yet, curiosity steered her with undue force.
“Oh, yes,” the dowager chuckled darkly.“Some even say”—she swiveled her head before pressing her fan against her cheek and concealing her mouth—“she was in themotherly way.”
Isobel ceased breathing.She knew it could all be a lie, that she should form no opinions based on their talk, and yet she couldn’t prevent herself from wanting to hear more.From letting the rumors slip in and settle into pain and prejudice.
“I say she was as lucky a girl as ever lived,” the second lady interjected, her voice laden with bitterness.“Well, perhaps that’s not appropriate of me, given the circumstances.But really, what sort of gentleman offers his hand to a vicar’s daughter?A doxy?He ought to have cast her off, or set her up quietly somewhere in Town.”
The blonde sighed wistfully.“That’s the charm in it, my dear.Lord Trevelyan must have been so deeply in love.He brought her into this very room, proud as if he had a duchess on his arm.”
“Say, how strange.She wore a necklace quite like that.”A bejeweled hand reached out, shocking Isobel when it brushed the lover’s eye pendant at her breast.
In that moment, Elias walked up with two glasses in hand.The conversation ceased, and the hand removed itself from Isobel’s necklace.“My apologies for the delay,” he said, his slitted eyes assessing the scene.“I ran up with an old friend.Are you well enough now, Miss Ridgeway?”
