Page 40 of Engaging Sir Isaac

Once in the drawing room, where everyone had started gathering in preparation for dinner, Millie realized she needed every good wish Sarah had sent with her. Lady Alderton, Lord Neil, and Lady Olivia were at the center of everything, greeting their guests and making introductions.

Lord Neil saw her before his sister or mother, and the man gave her a commiserating sort of grimace before coming her direction. “Miss Wedgewood. I have not seen you today.”

“I thought it best to rest,” she said quietly. He offered his arm and she took it.

“If you need rescue,” he said quietly, “signal me with that fan of yours.” He did not leave her time to respond. Lord Neil raised his voice and brought her to a couch full of guests. He introduced her to two sisters and their parents, then to a handsome gentleman with black hair and a charming smile.

“Mr. Weston, this is Miss Wedgewood, a particular friend of my sister’s. We have made the two of you dinner partners this evening.” Lord Neil spoke with his usual slow, almost bored tone. The man certainly was a gifted actor. He hid his emotions quite well, yet Millie sensed his thoughtfulness, his good heart, every time they spoke.

“A pleasure, Miss Wedgewood,” the object of her current hunt said, appearing not the least put out that he would be expected to escort a nobody to the table.

Lord Neil kept her there, making conversation with Mr. Weston and one of the other young ladies. Weston was something of a flirt, she realized in only a few minutes, bandying about compliments to both unmarried women and attempting to draw Lord Neil into the same. While that might make it easy to converse with him, flirts rarely shared personal information.

An all too familiar deep baritone voice interrupted her thoughts. “Miss Millicent Wedgewood. What an unexpected pleasure, to see you again.”

The breath froze in Millie’s lungs, and she turned woodenly to greet the owner of the voice by dropping a curtsy more worthy of his grandfather, a duke, than him. “Lord Carning. Good evening.” She barely raised her eyes to the level of his cravat.

“Allow me to introduce my wife,” he said, his voice dripping with haughtiness. “Lady Carning, Miss Wedgewood is an old acquaintance. I have known her since before she came out in Society. You have come out by now, I would assume, Miss Wedgewood? I cannot recall seeing you at any event in Town.”

“Yes, I am quite out,” she whispered, then swiftly turned her eyes to the woman on his arm as she curtsied. “Lady Carning. It is an honor to meet you.”

The viscountess was much taller than Millie, with alabaster skin, golden hair, and blue eyes. She looked, except for her height, very much like Millie’s sister. The woman held herself with the poise of a Greek statue.

“Miss Wedgewood. A pleasure,” she said, her voice like a harp in its gentle musicality. Millie realized, quite suddenly, that the woman was likely younger than herself. The viscount was at least forty-five. His wife could be no more than twenty.

The poor woman.

Millie was saved from further exchange when the butler arrived to announce dinner, and doors opened to allow them into the opulent dining room and heavy-laden table. Mr. Weston took her arm, and Millie briefly put a hand to her head where the blue-gem pin rested in her curls. Though unlikely as she was to need it, its presence soothed her.

The house party’s beginning made her long for its end. But no matter what happened, Millie had to come out the victor. Had to satisfy Lady Olivia. Or else disappoint her parents, thrust her family into obscurity, and forgo her own dreams of a titled husband and home of her own.

Chapter 14

Isaac sat at his breakfast, turning a thick sheet of ivory paper over and over in his hand.

The itinerary and invitations for the various events for the Alderton house party had arrived. The marchioness always sent out a complete schedule to the neighborhood, at least to those privileged few whom she wished to attend the daily activities. Isaac had turned down the invitations the previous year, except when escorting Esther.

Silas had tasked Isaac with the role of escort, as the earl refused to even step foot on Alderton land. His dislike of Lord Neil had grown to include the whole family when the marquess had made a veiled reference to the strange timing of Silas and Esther’s marriage.

Esther would attend fewer of the events this year, given her more matronly status as a mother to a young child. But Isaac had another reason to appear at each event. The reason, of course, was a woman with copper hair and kind brown eyes.

Millie needed a friend. That much anyone might see. But few would act upon it, including his sister, though she had sent the letter to Millie’s mother as promised.

He took the invitation to his study and tossed it upon his desk before he pulled drawers open in search of ink and paper for his formal response. Every event, every outing, every moment he had been invited to be present, he would be there. So long as Millie needed him.

That very afternoon, they were to go to the ruins of the old Orford Castle. The ancient tower had been neglected for decades. But the old piles of stone proved an interesting spot for picnics. It was scenic. Took two hours to get to in good weather. He would need the carriage, whether Esther agreed to join him or not.

Once he had the note written, he rang for a footman and gave instructions to rush it to the Alderton estate immediately. Then he started giving orders for his carriage’s preparation, for his valet, for cook to prepare a basket full of foods for him to contribute to the picnic.

Each and every one of his servants stared at him with wide eyes, fairly gaping as he gave instructions. When Harper, his valet, outright grinned at Isaac’s demands, the baronet grumbled.

“I cannot understand why everyone acts as though my attending a picnic is extraordinary.”

Harper tried to hide his smile, poorly. “It is unusual is all, sir. We are happy for you.”

Isaac frowned deeply, but Harper kept hold of his good cheer. Isaac stared at the mirror as Harper adjusted his cravat. He had been socially selective. Unless he escorted Esther, he limited his acceptances of dinners and parties, even balls, to those his friends sent. It was easier to stay home. To avoid crowds.

What the devil was he doing, seeking out the very sort of situation he had avoided for over a year, all for a woman he barely knew?