“And?”
“Early days. I want to know her better.”
“So this is it? That’s all you have to say about her?” She pressed her lips in a displeased line. “Helen is such a refined young lady, unlike her sister. I’m afraid that, if you marry Helen, we’ll never get rid of that wild, romping young woman. Heaven, when she laughed, Cook could have heard her from the kitchen.”
“Don’t be so harsh. Isabella is just as lovely as Helen. She’s more spontaneous and honest than her sister.”
Grandmama waved. “Tosh. Who needs spontaneity? But never mind. Patrick seems to be interested in her.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. No, he was sure he didn’t like it. “Would you approve?”
“Well, since we won’t get rid of the woman if you marry her sister, then she might be a good match for Patrick.” She paused, touching her chin. “On second thought, no. Unless we send them to the estate in the deep north in the Highlands. The horrible weather and desolate landscape will do wonders for their rumbustious characters.”
“Grandmama, please.”
“Also.” Her voice lowered to a dangerous tone. “Since when do you approve of that nonsense about women’s suffrage?”
“Since I researched the subject and learnt more about it. Women are organising themselves across the world. From the Americas to the Colonies, they’re asking for the same rights.”
“That doesn’t mean we ought to listen to them.”
“We can’t ignore their demands, especially since they’re reasonable. We can’t govern anymore as we did decades ago. The world is changing, Grandmama. We must change with it.”
“You’re giving me a headache.” She touched her temples. “Promise me you’ll spend more time with Helen.”
“I don’t think it’ll help.”
“Anthony. Helen came here to know you better. Don’t be rude to her. Besides, you said it’s early days.”
“I will talk to her again.”
“Good.” She put a hand on his arm. “How are you faring?”
“I’m all right.”
“I hoped meeting Helen would lift your spirits.”
Meeting Isabella accomplished that. “Stop worrying about me.” He slipped his arm out of her touch.
“How can I?” Her voice cracked. “I lost my son to the same malady afflicting you.”
“Nothing afflicts me.” He opened the door. “Good night.”
“Anthony.”
“I have nothing else to say on the matter.”
The more she insisted on talking about his mood, the more difficult it was for him to talk. Although since he’d laughed so easily with Isabella, he wondered if he was more troubled than he thought.
