He glanced at her before leading her up the steps of the ancient house for their supper party. “That must feel like a lot on your shoulders. Can I help at all?”
“You are helping,” she reassured him. Hopefully that blush of hers stayed down because she couldn’t very well admit to thinking of the different ways she might like to flirt with him. “Tonight will, too. But thank you.”
Everything went along smoothly, or so Isabel thought. They received warm greetings from Lord Hedgeworth and his wife. Being the highest titles at the evening’s event, they were offered drinks quickly and, after a polite hour of greeting the assorted guests, seated at the head of the table alongside their hosts for supper at last.
“We truly are glad to have you here,” Lady Hedgeworth murmured to her. She spoke so softly that Isabel had to strain over the candlelight to read the woman’s lips. It was a beautiful room draped in red and gold for the holiday season, but they’d apparently kept most of their candles in the parlor. “What a jewel you are to join us at our countryside party.”
“I wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else,” Isabel reassured her warmly.
On the meal went. She was seated at Sebastian’s elbow but hardly had a chance to speak as he carried on a lengthy conversation with the baron, for they had land matters to address. Not wanting to interrupt, she smiled and nodded to those down the line of the table. The baroness slipped away for one reason or another during the tenth course, and Isabel didn’t remember proper manners allowing her to call to the next person down the line for conversation.
It didn’t matter much as they were involved in another conversation with their party, a group of two women and three men of various ages. They were more gentry than titled, she recalled, but had been very welcoming earlier in the parlor.
Or so she thought.
“It’s galling, that is what it is,” she heard first, a bite in the woman’s voice and a sharp glance her way. Mrs. Lamphire, who was the vicar’s elder sister who lived with him. “One cannot simply outrun a scandal.”
Isabel quietly stalled from taking her bite. The food was already in her mouth though it had already lost its flavor. She forced herself to chew, slowly and quietly.
There is no need to make assumptions. Who says they are talking about me? They could be talking about anyone. There is always another scandal. Emilia told me of at least three newones in London alone when she visited, and surely there have been three more since.
“If I lacked class, I would surely be impressed,” said one of the men––a nephew of an aging viscount and clearly eager to catch the other woman’s eye judging with the way he played with his hair and cravat–– and he added, “My uncle would never acknowledge me again. Not a soul in London would if they had any sense. How the title still belongs to the family even now…”
“It will die with the current earl, will it not?”
Isabel hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. She forced herself to let it out, though strained it felt.
“I would hope so!” The other young woman snarled before suddenly giggling. She had smiled like that when complimenting Isabel’s gown just an hour earlier. “Or what has the world come to? We must have order.”
Mrs. Lamphire muttered so low Isabel had to read her lips, “Order indeed.”
Order indeed? To be what, cruel? Unforgiving? I never did anything wrong. My parents didn’t either, though they’ve taken on enough of the blame and the guilt. Don’t they understand how lost we are now? How much we suffered?
“To have the gall to marry a duke…” It was Miss Jane Quorth, Isabel remembered at last. Some old family twice removed fromroyalty. Perhaps three times removed. “If my family still carried a title, we would never let ourselves even acknowledge someone who was a traitor to the crown.”
Nodding furiously, the almost-viscount said with gumption, “I vow the Ravenshaw name was dragged down for this. It will never recover. Even now, I know of families prepared to keep their doors closed to them.”
The sting of judgement hurt more than Isabel would ever want to admit. She forced a calm breath while setting her fork and knife down. Her hands were shaking too badly to do anything now. But if she stopped eating, then they would know she had been listening.
Or was it their goal for me to hear? Am I supposed to say something? I cannot believe I thought I would be safe here, free of the scandal. And Sebastian doesn’t…
Her thoughts stalled as something warm and comforting covered her hand before it could slip under the table. She swallowed, looking to find Sebastian had taken her hand in his.
Shocked, she couldn’t think. She couldn’t even move.
Isabel looked up at him in surprise. The chill in her soul slowly dissipated. Though he said nothing, still appearing to listen to the baron, this gesture said that he knew and he cared. That he didn’t mind anyone seeing such intimacy between them.
A blush warmed her cheeks, but she didn’t care. For once, she didn’t feel so alone.
CHAPTER 14
“Iam glad we have this settled,” Sebastian told Harold, the aging baron, as they enjoyed their glass in the half-empty dining room. “Fortunate to have this out of the way before the new year.”
“Indeed. I’ve had issues with those acres for years. Taking them off my hands is the best gift I could receive this year,” the man added cheerfully. “I almost feel as though I should pay you to take them.”
Deep in his cups, the man chortled and glanced around the room.
Sebastian didn’t usually steal so much time from a host. But he had come here with an intention and was determined to sort it out, which he had done. And now he had one more.
