He dropped his chin, eyes narrowing, and for one awful minute Isolde thought he was about to turn on his heel and storm back inside, leaving her to face a barrage of insinuations and a wall of mortification.
It was even worse than that.
He began to walk towards her.
“He’s coming towards us,” Viola said, entirely unnecessarily.“What shall we do?”
“What can we do?” Isolde shot back. “I can hardly run.”
In truth, she’d considered the possibility, and regretfully rejected it. The carriage wouldn’t leave without her whole family in it, and her mother would probably come to fetch her anyway.
“Lady Isolde,” the Viscount said loudly, voice carrying, entirely unashamed. “What a pleasure to see you.”
Muffled exclamations ran around the courtyard at that. Many people were unashamedly listening in. Isolde forced herself to pretend not to notice.
“Lord Henley,” she said, making a neat curtsey. “You know my friend, Lady Viola Appleton?”
“Indeed I do, good day to you both. Lady Isolde, I daresay you had a good laugh, as I did, at that wretched gossip column?”
She blanched.
We weren’t going to talk about that! she wanted to scream. Instead, Isolde only gave a serene smile. They called her Ice Queen, did they not? Well, she would show them all just how icy she could be.
“I barely skimmed through it,” Isolde answered, lifting a hand carelessly. “One has to keep up to date with these things, but truly, it is so boring. Did nothing else happen during the first ball of the Season, that they must read so much into a lady’s stumble and a subsequent dance?”
His eyes crinkled.
He knows, she thought, biting back a sudden smile. He knows I’m mortified. Perhaps he is too, but he is determined to push through it. Let them all know we don’t care.
“I could not agree more,” he said, the smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth. “I’m sure it’s fair to say that nobody gives any credence to such nonsense – at least, nobody with a modicum of sense.”
“Mama doesn’t let me read the gossip sheets,” Viola put in,obviously keen to be part of the conversation, “but I borrow them from Isolde.”
That hardly improved Isolde’s claim of barely skimming through the gossip sheet. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to meet the Viscount’s eyes squarely.
He thinks this is amusing. To him, I daresay it is.
“I do hope you haven’t let such nonsensical claims shake you, Lord Henley?” she said, as smoothly as she could manage. “I certainly have not.”
The smile widened. “I absolutely believe you, Lady Isolde. If anyone is an unshakeable pillar of Society, it is you.”
Well, was that a compliment, or an insult? Or some mixture of both? Isolde missed a beat, trying to think of something clever but vague to say – Elizabeth Bennet would have known what to say – and the opportunity passed.
There came a delicate tinkling of a bell, and they all turned to see Lady Wrenwood standing at the head of the garden tables, ringing a small brass bell.
“Attention, ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to eat now,” she announced, setting down the bell. “You’ll notice that there are name cards at each place, do find yours and take a seat. You shall be served shortly.”
“May I escort you to the table, Lady Isolde?” the Viscount asked, suddenly far too close beside her. She forced herself not to shrink away.
“I’m not sure I need escorting, sir. The tables are only over there.”
He chuckled. “Come, do you not intend to show Society that you don’t care what nonsense is written about you? The best way to do that, I think, is to lift your head and continue talking to whoever you like.”
“I would have thought the best way to show that they are wrong – in short, that I am not out to catch you – would be toavoid you,” she countered.
He chuckled again, a low, breathy noise that made Isolde’s insides flutter. She hated the feeling, and hated how out of control it made her feel.
It’s just because he’s handsome, and he’s flirting with you a little. You aren’t used to it.
