The preliminaries were got through and now the play began. Isabel laid down a card. Then Mr. Vance. She took the trick.
Mr. Vance said, “I had a friendly word with Miss Thompson regarding Lymington not a quarter hour ago.”
Isabel did not respond. She did not wish to discuss Lord Lymington with Mr. Vance.
“She likes him, you know. Really likes him. She finds his bumbling about and awkward conversation rather endearing.”
Isabel had of course noticed that Miss Thompson seemed to admire Lord Lymington at Lord Ryland’s mystery supper. She had not known if it were genuine, or if Miss Thompson was only flattering a gentleman who would be a duke. She did not know Miss Thompson well enough to make such a judgment.
“Have you met Miss Thompson’s father?”
“I have not,” Isabel said, not at all clear what Miss Thompson’s father had to do with anything.
In a lower voice, Mr. Vance said, “At the moment, he is very fortunately laid up with gout.”
Isabel looked up from her cards in some surprise. What a thing to say. “Surely, Mr. Vance, you do not wish illness on another person.”
“A man like that is best laid up, so he does not have the strength to cause trouble,” Mr. Vance said. “Everybody knows what he is.”
“I cannot comment on the gentleman,” Isabel said, “as I certainly do not know what he is.” Though, she wondered what it was that everybody knew.
“Well, Icancomment, and it is a stretch to even call Viscount Merdon a gentleman. He is a philanderer and a brute. But the reason I mention it is I believe that is why Miss Thompson finds herself so fond of Lymington. He can be a very great fool, but there is nothing brutish about him. As for philandering, I cannot imagine he would even notice if the opportunity somehow presented itself.”
“Mr. Vance, I take exception to the idea that Lord Lymington is a fool,” Isabel said, feeling a very great need to defend what might be her future husband.
“You know perfectly well that he is,” Mr. Vance said, taking his first trick. “I do not hold it against him, he is a jolly enough fellow. But dolphins affecting the weather? Where on earth did he get such an idea?”
Isabel sighed. “That is not entirely his fault. I encouraged him to broaden his conversation, and he settled on weather and…I am afraid he got that idea from the duchess’ butler, Mr. Carlson.”
Mr. Vance appeared as if he might roar with laughter. “Of course he did, where else would he get such a notion but from that lady’s household?”
Isabel was well aware that Carlson’s theories were absurd, but she would not dream of admitting it.
“People are free to believe what they want,” she said, the defiance in her voice evident to her own ears. And sounding rather stupid in the process.
“Certainly,” Mr. Vance said, failing to conceal his amusement. “One may choose to believe the earth flat and fear sailing over the edge of the world if they wish, assuming they are not averse to being wrong. In any case, Miss Thompson was very forthcoming. She does singularly prefer Lymington.”
“I suppose a lady can prefer whoever she likes,” Isabel said. “Though I am surprised she would admit to it. It might lead to…”
“Disappointed hopes?” Mr. Vance asked.
“Yes.”
“A risk, of course. But you see, I am determined that Miss Thompson’s hopes are not disappointed. Both for her sake and Lymington’s…and your own.”
Isabel was rather shaken by that sentiment. It was exceedingly highhanded, and it meddled with her future!
“You have no cause to presume what would be for my sake. I would ask you to refrain from being so bold in your speech, Mr. Vance,” Isabel said, her cards shaking in her hand.
“I cannot help it, perhaps it is the tradesman’s blood in me that speaks so plainly. Miss Thompson is half in love with Lymington already. She adores his gentleness and doesn’t give a toss for his missteps. I cannot think it fair for Lymington to miss out on someone who holds real affection for him. I cannot think he would rather prefer being only somebody’s security net.”
“I am certain Lord Lymington is well able to conduct his own affairs without your interference,” Isabel said, her cards bending under the pressure of her fingers.
“Are you? Because I am not. I informed Miss Thompson that although Lymington is unflaggingly genial, he can be dumb as a rock. If she wishes to get anywhere with him, she’s going to have to communicate her interest very directly.”
Is this what it had come to? Was Mr. Vance really attempting to interfere with her future in such a manner? It was exceedingly rude and misguided. And dangerous.
What if he were to sink every suitable match that came her way? What if he were to be around long enough to weaken her defenses?
