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Chapter Nineteen
“In a moment,” Isaac said then turned to Lady Auclair and bowed. “Have a wonderful evening, My Lady.”
“You too, Your Grace.” she smiled, a brief respite in the tension Isaac could feel was stating to build.
With a stifled sigh, he offered his arm to Helena, who took it silently. They got to the dancefloor with uncountable eyes on them, that Isaac did not careto assess and took their places another waltz tune in the air.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked once they began to dance.
“Other than thatwe have put ourselves up as beingfodder for the ton gossip for weeks on end,I’m not sure is somethingtosay,” Isaac replied.
Helena pursed her lips in irritation. “You could comment on my gown or my jeweledchoker, or the trouble I went through to style my hair this evening.”
As vain as ever, and I highly doubt that you were the one who styled your hair.
Isaac blinked and looked at her, trying to notice the details she would have wanted him to notice before she had drawn his attention to it.
“You do look lovely,” he admitted, though privately he decided that the diamonds in her necklace would never match to the sparkle in Louisa’s eyes when she smiled.
Helena notched her head up and studied him with narrowed eyes. “Thank you,” she said, still not sounding pleased.
What do you want from me, Helena? I am not going to fall to my knees and ask you back into my life—I have another who is going to fulfill that position.
“You are awfully quiet,” Helena mentioned.
“I am just trying to parse a disclaimer to send to every assembly house and club in London when they get wind that we have danced, and the foolish notions that will fly into their heads,” Isaac said. “I do not want to deter suitorscoming to your door.”
Her lips pursed intoa pout. “And why would it be so horrible to let them talk?”
“Because I do not thrive on being the center of attention,” Isaac said pointedly.
Helena fellsilent and he knew that his jab had been understood. Almost immediately, he began to censure himself, this was not proper of him. He knew nothing about Helena anymore and it was unconscionable for him to be deriding hercharacter.
The dance ended and he made to excuse himself and then find himself on the other half of the ballroom, as far from her as he could. Only Helena, would throw a wrench into his works—again.
“Humor me and join me at the refreshment table?”
“Miss Follet—”
Taking his extendedarm, she murmured, “Please.”
Although every neve and bone in his body were telling him to make an excuse—any excuse—and leave, he bowed to her wish and headed off to the room. He wanted to pretend that the astonished gazes landing on himwere imaginary, but when William’s mouth had dropped to his feet, Isaac grittedhis teeth knowing that later that night, a thousand-and-one questions waited for himas he entered the room.
He poured out a glass of champagne for her and took a glass of water for himself. “What is on your mind, Miss Follet? Other than knowing that our names will be splashed over the front page of The Times in bold red ink?”
Helena’s tinkling laugh that had once charmed him, now only grated on his nerves. “Oh, Isaac, you are always so droll. Stop it. It seems to me that you are coming back into polite society. I am so happy for you. Does this mean that sometime in the future, we might see some balls at the Montagu house?”
“No,” Isaac said. “I am only dipping my toe in; I am nowhere near to be jumping in headfirst.”
“Which is exactly why you need a goodwife,” Helena simpered, and Isaac cursed himself for falling into her trap.“Don’t you think?”
“In time,” Isaac replied coolly and markedly stepped away from her. “I would have sworn you would bemarried by now as well. What stopped you? I know you must have suitors lining up after you rejected me.Especially that Frenchman your father was hosting.”
Helena’s lips pinched as she knew what exactly he was referring to. “Thatwas a mistake, Isaac.”
“A mistake?” His lips flattened. “I see.”
She closed the gap between them and rested a hand on his chest. Her expression went coquettish, and her lips becamea pout. “I had missed you more then you could have known; I had not meant to kiss him.”
