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I tighten my knees slightly under my hand, trying to control the irritation rising within me.
“She is too naive,” he continues, “She does not know how to distinguish between reality and false attentions. That man will break her heart.”
His words flow through the room and echo inside me.
The air suddenly feels heavier.
I find myself holding my breath, staring at him without saying anything.
For a moment, those words don’t seem to be addressed to her.
20
Chisel
Evander
Richard brushes my elbow to catch my attention as we turn between the high hedges of Ashford Manor.
“Evander, you are of an impeccable elegance. That blue suits you more than it ought to.”
An uncomfortable warmth rises to the nape of my neck. My collar grazes my throat with too much precision.
It must be the fault of the useless attention I devoted to it.
Why did I do that?
I have no idea.
“You have an unusually serious air. I wonder whom you intend to impress.”
His laughter lightens the air for a moment. Isobel, between the two of us, accelerates by half a step; her violet dress looks like a dark flower, her white gloves moving nervously over the handle of her parasol.
“And what do you say of me, gentlemen?”
Richard answers first.
“Beautiful, as always.”
Her fingers only stop tormenting the lace when I open my mouth.
“You are enchanting, Isobel. I am certain Lord Dorian will know how to appreciate it.”
A shadow of satisfaction crosses her gaze.
The gravel beneath our shoes changes consistency as we approach the entrance. I find myself inhaling slowly, preparing for something I would rather postpone.
We enter the manor, I flick a grain of gravel from my glove while the butler awaits us, motionless at the center of the hall. His gray hair, thick and disciplined, looks like a human version of burnished silver. His eyes, a hostile blue, scrutinize us.
“Welcome, sirs.”
Then he addresses Isobel with a sharpened courtesy. “Lady.”
A younger figure appears behind him. His black gloves contrast with the white ones of the butler.
“Viscount. Lord Brownell. Lady Brownell.”
Richard acknowledges him with two fingers, I tilt my head. Isobel exhibits a restrained smile.
