Isabel stopped. “I didn’t know that.”
Her friend linked their arms, leading them down the hall. “I was going to write it in my letter and forgot. Who knew you would marry the Duke of Eastwynd? He is a very charming dancer. The man would attend the balls only to dance with the wallflowers, to talk to a friend or two, and then be on his way. I was a wallflower, remember?”
“Quite so, only you were too loud,” Isabel pointed out. “I never knew he used to do that. Why did he stop, do you know?”
“He didn’t stop. I did. Father made sure I always turned him down. He didn’t think it looked good with my prospects. Ridiculous because he knows I’m happy. I have a Scottish title and money to my name. I can do as I like now that I’m older and wiser.”
Emilia was a breath of fresh air that Isabel eagerly welcomed here. If only her friend was around more often. Emilia had never abandoned her through the family scandal, only she hadn’t always been able to be there in London with Isabel.
But this day alone made up for it, Isabel decided.
It was like no time had passed at all. They chattered away happily, talking about balls and Emilia’s busy family all the way to the dining room. Beside the open door stood Sebastian waiting for them.
Isabel flushed. “Good evening,” she told him. Swallowing her giggles, she hoped she looked somewhat presentable. And she rather hoped he liked Emilia. And she very much prayed Emilia liked Sebastian. “I’m glad you can join us for supper, Vale.”
As she offered introductions, Emilia curtseyed and Sebastian offered a bow. He offered his arm but there was little need with the three of them so close to the table. Isabel accepted it all the same, ignoring Emilia’s look as they settled in.
“Thank you for permitting my visit,” Emilia told Sebastian. “I understand my missive didn’t arrive as soon as I had hoped. Not that I provided much time as it stands. But I’m very glad to be here. Your home is very beautiful, and I love the strong winds coming through from the ocean.”
“They are bracing,” he responded politely.
Emilia nodded. “Must more enjoyable than London during this time of year. Everything turns gray and brown there. I rather like this. Do you enjoy the outdoors during the winter, Your Grace?”
“When I can,” he said in response. It was short and clean. It almost came off as rude.
It would have, if Isabel didn’t notice how tightly he clenched his silverware. She noted the white of his knuckles and wondered at the truth of his feelings. But Emilia started talking about riding during snowfall and Isabel allowed herself to be pulled into conversation.
The two of them led most of the chatter through their courses that evening, with mostly nods and the occasional acknowledgement from Sebastian. What Isabel wouldn’t have given to know what he was thinking. She felt her cheeks constantly flushed with laughter and cheer, and the heat was distracting.
As well as those looks he keeps sending my way. What could he be thinking?
Sebastian never offered up an answer that night, or in the three following evenings while Emilia joined them. Isabel was grateful for his presence, how it looked for them to be together. Otherwise, the duke kept himself scarce while they enjoyed themselves.
It was an enjoyable time where they painted, strolled outdoors, and enjoyed each other’s company. Isabel felt more merriment all over the house. She wished Emilia could stay longer, and said so during their morning tea the day that her friend was to leave.
“Another day. Another week. A fortnight, even. You could stay with us for Michaelmas,” she offered.
Emilia chuckled. “And disappoint my five nephews? I wouldn’t dare. They would hold it over my head for years. Oh, I wish I could. But we shall see each other again in London soon. For the spring. Won’t we?”
Realizing she wasn’t certain, Isabel gave a short smile. “I’m sure. But I shall miss you. I didn’t realize how much I needed your company.”
Her friend beamed before sipping her tea. “It really is as though no time has passed. How fortunate we are to be the best of friends.” She paused. “We are, aren’t we? Bosom friends?”
“Certainly. I trust you and adore you,” Isabel reassured her. Noting something in her friend’s face, however, she hesitated. “Is something the matter?”
Clutching her teacup close, Emilia glanced down and aside. “I’m afraid I have been holding something close that I should have shared sooner. You won’t be upset, will you?”
“I could never be upset with you.” Isabel put her own cup down and scooted closer. “Is something the matter? I am here for you.”
“As I am here for you.” Emilia smiled at her gratefully before taking a deep breath. “It’s only that during the first evening of my journey, when I stopped at the lodge, I met someone I recognized. Someone I knew.”
Something tightened inside of Isabel. She blinked, waiting. “Who?”
Emilia leaned forward. “Thomas.”
Retracting her hand, Isabel sat ramrod straight. “My brother?”
No one had said his name aloud in some time. Not even she had. She blinked several times, trying to understand. It was understood her brother had left Britain in shame and dishonor. He had disappeared one night, never to be seen again.
