And then the viscount’s gaze locked with Isolde’s, and she could have sworn that somebody stole all the breath from the room. He rose to his feet, and before she could do or say a thing, her legs had carried her across the room and deposited her in front of him.
“You came.”
It was a rather silly thing to say, but the words were out and it was too late to take them back.
The viscount let out a long breath. “Of course I did. You invited me.”
She cleared her throat, composing herself as best she could. “Did you bring a book? I ought to have mentioned that we all bring books, our favourites, or our most recently read volumes, and discuss them. We’ll talk about modern stories, of course, but it’s always good to hear new recommendations.”
“I thought as much. I’m afraid my choice is a little less interesting. I simply brought Pride and Prejudice,” he added with a sigh, taking out the tome in question.
Isolde had to bite back a smile. “Me too. Our anonymous Lady Author is something of a fascination of mine at the moment. I see that your stepmother – Lady Wrenwood, is it not? – has brought a more controversial choice.”
They both turned to see Lady Wrenwood with her book open, reading aloud a passage. Miss Smith appeared to be on the brink of tears.
“I was as surprised as you,” the viscount admitted. “I have no idea how she managed to get that book past my father’s scrutiny.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Maria, clapping her hands for attention in the middle of the room. She smiled around at everyone.
“Welcome, welcome! Regulars and newcomers, welcome all! Take a seat, we shall begin soon enough – I hope you are ready, as always, for vigorous debates and enlightening discourses. Have we all a seat? Is there plenty of tea?”
“Oh, I’d better sit down,” Isolde murmured, glancing around herself. She saw that almost all of the seats were taken, excepting a few hard chairs on the edge of the gathering, across the room from where the viscount sat.
For some reason, that made her heart sink.
I am disappointed. Why am I disappointed?
“I suppose I shall sit over there,” Isolde said, half to herself.
She jumped when Lady Wrenwood bounced abruptly to her feet. She hadn’t even been aware that the woman was listening.
“You should sit by Clayton,” Lady Wrenwood said cheerfully. “Seeing as you have both brought the same book.”
Before Isolde could say a word, either to agree or demur, the woman went sailing across the room, plumped herself into one of the hard chairs, and immediately began talking to her neighbour about the Vampyre.
Slowly, Isolde sank into the vacated half of the sofa. The viscount sat beside her.
The sofa was technically meant for two, but it was something of a squeeze. Her shoulders kept brushing his, and she could feel the warmth emanating from him.
“I hope your first literary salon is going to be memorable,” Isolde said, keeping her voice low.
He glanced down at her, and she found herself caught in his gaze.
“I’m sure it will be,” he murmured. “I doubt I’ll forget this evening in a hurry.”
***
“That,” Eliza said happily, “was delightful.”
They were in the carriage, rocketing back towards Eliza’s home. Auric who was out tonight, on business in one of their more distant estates, was not expected back until tomorrow, giving Eliza an expected day of freedom. Clayton longed to go inside and see his siblings, but there was always the worry that Auric might have come home early, or that a servant might reveal that Clayton was in the house when he ought not to have been.
Safer to stay away.
Eliza gave a sigh of satisfaction, stretching out her legs on the seat opposite in a most unladylike fashion.
“Thank you for inviting me, Clayton. And I must write and thank Lady Bell for admitting me, too. I’m quite starved for good company these days.”
“Father is getting worse, isn’t he?”
