“Ah,” Elliot corrected her. “This is my wager, Miss Kinsley, not your own. Your virtue is not on the line.”
“It would appear that Elliot’s virtue is,” I teased, watching Miss Kinsley closely as her cheeks flushed. “I rarely trust Elliot, he is too ripe and ready by half.”
“I daresay,” Miss Kinsley said lightly as our first card was dealt, “that phrase would describe the both of you.”
Elliot cackled with laughter. No one in all of England derived as much pleasure as he when I was put in my place.
“You speak quite freely,” I responded, “when one considers you’re speaking with a man whom you attempted to injure in a bookstore.”
I expected another flush of her cheek, or another kind comment. Instead, Miss Kinsley leveled her gaze on me. “Mr. Windham, if this one act—that of acquiring a book for a beloved sister—is the worst insult you can discover, I rather think you should leave the jesting to your friend.”
I sat back. “You speak quite freely for the daughter of—” But I swallowed back the words. I’d almost reminded Miss Kinsley of her station in the worst possible way. My pride had been more damaged than I’d acknowledged.
“One in my station, is ever-aware, Mr. Windham.” Her gaze rested on me, honest and direct. “Both as a female, and as a country doctor’s daughter.”
Rubbing my eyes, I allowed myself to feel the shame that was due my thoughts. “My apologies. I did not mean—”
“Might I deal the next round?” Elliot asked, saving me from further damaging my pride, or that of Miss Kinsley. “And also say that I’m most delighted to learn that our Miss Kinsley is the mysterious book-shop girl.”
With a short nod, cards were dealt. Nineteen was respectable, and again, the odds were in my favor.
With a lucky draw of a three, Miss Kinsley once again set me in my place.
She clapped. “At this rate, I shall repay Mr. Somerville’s debt in no time at all.”
I stared at the new marks on the sheet, at how soundly she’d won the last round. If the cards graced her in this manner, Elliot was correct, she would be a perfect partner for whist.
“I believe my title has been stolen,” I offered, not willing to be bested yet again.
“Title?” She sat taller, her attention drawing from Elliot to myself.
“Captain Sharpe.” Elliot laughed. “Oh, Isabelle. You have put my friend in his place, and I cannot thank you enough for it.”
“Happy to oblige.” Her eyes met mine, and her smile widened.
I reached to adjust my cravat, only then remembering what a disheveled state I was in after a night of cards with Elliot. Heat flooded my face. Waistcoats unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up...We would be quite in the suds if Mrs. Somerville arrived before we dressed. “Mr. Kearns will give me a scolding for allowing myself to be seen in such a state,” I said as I stood, grasping the thin fabric of my cravat as I did.
“The worry over your valet surprises me, Mr. Windham,” she responded, a slight smile playing on her lips. “For a man ready to frighten two young ladies in their night dresses.”
I swallowed. Glanced at the floor. At my state of near undress. We had perhaps gone too far. “I’m very sorry, again…”
“Mr. Windham,” she began, her voice decisive. “I am not so silly a young woman as to be offended by a well-planned prank.”
At that moment, Anna stepped into the room. “Isabelle.”
I knew that tone, as well as the steady and dark look from Anna. Blast. As cautious as I’d attempted to be, I’d still created a rift between friends. I took a step back, forcing my gaze to the floor in the most contrite manner I could conjure.
“Not all young women enjoy being teased while at their most vulnerable.” Anna’s voice trembled at the end. A moment before she turned and stalked from the room.
Isabelle shot from her chair and followed Anna.
“Well.” Elliot patted his chest. “That went terribly, did it not?”
“Indeed,” I agreed as I attempted to make sense of my shirt without Kearns or a mirror.
“However, I owe you forty pounds less.” Elliot tapped my arm. “So that is something to be grateful for.”
I shook my head.
We started toward our rooms together, when Mrs. Somerville’s voice rang down the hall. “Elliot! Come say hello to your aunt and uncle! They’ve arrived early!”
“Oh, no…” Elliot began before releasing a tumble of mumbled words.
He glanced down and then released a long sigh. “There is nothing to be done now.” He buttoned his waistcoat and shook his sleeves down, before attempting to work on those buttons as well. I followed, keeping close to the wood paneling of the hallway, cautious to keep myself out of sight. I wasn’t about to miss a chance to catch his reaction upon seeing Mary for the first time in months—and in such a state.
“Mr. Fullerton,” Elliot said with the grace of a gentleman in his finest, rather than a man who had hastily buttoned his shirt-sleeves as he walked up the hall.
I rested against the wall, just able to see the side profile of Mr. Fullerton, whose caterpillar-like eyebrows had only whitened a bit since I last saw him.
“Oh, you are quite disheveled.” Mrs. Somerville sighed. “Have you gone to bed?”
“Perhaps it is better to not ask questions you don’t wish to hear the answer to,” Elliot said, managing a level of contriteness I could only aspire to.
“Well, you remember Mary, of course,” she responded, her voice thick with jest.
I attempted to remain hidden, while also watching the exchange.
Mary’s round cheeks flushed, her full lips were pressed together as if holding in a smile. Mary’s eyes had always held an intelligence in them I’d admired, and with the way Elliot’s feet shuffled beneath him, I imagined he felt the same. He reached a hand out and she immediately took his hand in her two. His shoulders released, and the happiness I felt for my friend was complete.
“It is so…so…I’m so happy you’re here,” Elliot settled on.
“Oh, Simon.” Mrs. Somerville shook her head at me. “You boys and your cards. Am I correct in assuming that is why you two look...look…”
“I beg your forgiveness.” I backed up a step. “It’s been far too long since I spent an evening in the company of my dearest friend.” Mentioning our long-lasting connection was the best way to step into her good graces.
Her pursed lips loosened.
“Mr. and Mrs. Fullerton, Miss Fullerton.” I gave a slight bow. “I would like to apologize for my appearance and for Elliot’s reddening face.”
He swiped toward me with an arm, but I dodged, barely able to stifle a laugh.
Mrs. Fullerton gave a nasally, light chuckle as she touched her hair, already becoming undone along the edges.
“I promise to be far better behaved when we meet at dinner. May I assume our musicale will still be happening this evening?” I asked Mrs. Somerville. “As the rain does not affect us indoors?”
“You are correct. However, it appears all of our outdoor activities will have to be re-scheduled. Again.” She sighed. “Do come in and have some breakfast. Elliot will happily join you, Mary.” Her gaze turned pointedly toward Elliot. “Once my son has made himself presentable.”
Elliot bowed, and then slightly bowed again. His hands floated about as if he’d forgotten how to use them.
“I’ll see you in a moment,” Mary said in her soft voice.
I grasped Elliot by the elbow and glanced at each of the new arrivals in turn. “Lovely to see you all again. We look forward to having the chance to spend some diverting hours with you throughout your stay at Haven’s Landing.”
Mary gave a light curtsy, her pink dress curling on the ground as she did so. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Mary wearing a different color. She’d hardly spoken a word. Honestly, if I hadn’t been able to easily understand my friend’s reactions, I’d have never guessed he’d have an interest in someone so quiet.
; “Mother is not happy.” Elliot stopped the moment we reached the top of the stairs. “And what Mary must think…She hasn’t seen me for months and now this.”
Glancing down at my disastrous state, I said, “Perhaps I shall have a bath. A long one. And then beg your mother’s forgiveness.”
“And Anna.” Elliot sighed. “Why does mother insist on so many guests?”
“It appears it takes very few of us to create a disaster.” I paused just outside my door. “I imagine that I’ll see you this evening?”
“Unless Mary has decided to run screaming from our engagement.” Elliot scratched behind his ear, a nervous habit of his I’d almost forgotten he had. “We must maintain near perfect behavior.”
“Now, my friend, you sound like your mother.” I entered my room to find Mr. Kearns brushing off my toilette. Each piece had been newly acquired, and with the musicale and new company, I quite looked forward to presenting myself in my new clothes—a rare state of mind for me.
“Your bath is ready, sir,” he said without pausing at his duties.
“Kearns.” I sighed. “You have saved me again.”
“Of course, sir.”
“I was bested at cards.” I shrugged out of my waistcoat and tossed it on the bed.
“Ah,” Kearns responded. “Elliot has grown keener then?”
“Not by Elliot, but by Miss Isabelle Kinsley,” I responded, remembering the slight dimple on her cheek, and then immediately remembering how I’d almost insulted her by bringing up her station. That was clearly not something any gentleman would do, definitely not to someone such as Miss Kinsley. Elliot was not a man to cheat at cards, so Miss Kinsley was either a very deft player, or she was exceptionally lucky in her endeavors. I quite wished to discover the truth of those options.
At some point, I would have to defend my honor at the card table, and I greatly looked forward to it.
Chapter 17
Isabelle
Rain pelted the upstairs window, leaving wet splotches that blurred the scene below. I placed my fingers against the glass, smudging the pane. Not even poor weather derailed Mrs. Somerville’s determination for matchmaking. She refused to postpone the musicale, shaking her head at the muddied-road conditions. “Such a small risk for such pretty company,” she had said, winking.
Anna’s maid tugged a strand of hair at the nape of my neck, wrapping it around the curling wand, and pulling my gaze to the mirror once more. I had watched her at work on Anna’s hair many times, but never on mine until last week.
My aunt’s maid had been accomplished in only two styles of hair, both of which were catered to the elder generation. As a result, I had tried, on multiple occasions, to style my own. These efforts had passed but only if one did not inspect too closely.
“Now, the finishing touch,” Anna said, slipping beside the maid to tuck flowers into the twists and curls. The pink roses, collected on a walk the previous day, served as my friend’s apology for her dramatics about the library. “There.”
Anna’s moodiness rarely lasted longer than a few hours, and the half-day distance had rattled me more than I wished to admit. Without her, I felt alone at Haven’s Landing. No mother to embrace, no horrid but familiar aunt to turn to. The Somervilles endeared themselves to me with each passing day, but Anna was my link to every one of them.
I welcomed her apology and her cheery disposition once again. My friend was frivolous, at times unbearably selfish and indulgent, but I adored the lightness of her ways—the way she laughed so easily, the way she seemed to agree with most of my plans.
“You know,” I said, admiring the flowers in the mirror’s reflection. My lips lifted on one side. “You needn’t dote on me in order to regain my friendship. You never lost it.”
Anna’s dark hair had been pinned low, and a few strands, pulled to one side, spiraled past her shoulder. Her glossy curls sparkled almost as bright as her eyes in the candlelight. “Oh, but I despise how I acted. I hope you know that I am a fool when it comes to Mr. Windham—I always have been, and his seeing me in my nightdress was unbearable. But then, they only meant to have a little fun, and perhaps there will come a time when Mr. Windham may see me in my nightdress often…if...”
She squealed.
I sighed, grateful the momentary jealousy of earlier had dissipated. I placed my hand against the gifted necklace from a week earlier. The gold chain was an icy comfort to my burning neck. I longed for the breezes of the sea to cool the summer heat. “I will say that you have picked quite the gentleman—an entertaining but sincere one that I believe you will find great happiness with.”
She dipped her head in order to catch our reflections and grinned, and the shimmer of her dress seemed to reach her eyes, flickering back at me. “I have determined tonight I will secure Simon’s attention. Ever since he arrived, he’s hardly looked a moment at me. Elliot says that a gentleman sometimes avoids the very lady they wish to attract. Do you think that’s true?”
I inhaled carefully, forcing myself to think before saying the obvious. My experience was limited..
“Well?” Anna asked. She pressed her cheek against mine, wrapping her arms around me. “Do you think I have a chance at catching his eye this evening?”
I did the only thing I could: I told her a truth. “Anna, you are, without a doubt, the handsomest lady in the entire house. Miss Guppy, Mary, no one stands a chance of outshining you when it comes to beauty.”
My avoidance of her true question appeared to go unnoticed, for Anna giggled, pulling me to my feet and down the hall so fast that I struggled to breathe.
The music room, elongated and connected to the parlor by a set of French doors, was already scattered with people. Most of them, I knew already. However, there were strangers enough standing near the mantle and the pianoforte—neighbors and acquaintances of the Somerville family who lived in the county—that required introductions.
The furniture had been rearranged to create four rows of velvet-upholstered chairs in the center of the room. Instruments had been wheeled and placed near the mantle, the harp and pianoforte at the forefront.
Papa always told me that the purpose of rugs were to hide the years of scratches and grooves of a floor, but the Somerville’s Persian rug had been rolled away, and in its place pristine and finely lacquered floorboards challenged my father’s words.
Anna led me around the room like a lost kitten. She claimed the duty of introducing me as her dearest friend and loveliest acquaintance to every unfamiliar face. And, to any eligible young man, Anna seemed to exaggerate my strengths with creative zeal: “So very fair—you will not find a more picturesque lady in all of London.” “Wait until you hear Isabelle on the pianoforte. I am afraid she will put even me to shame.” “You must speak with her after the performances, but I warn you, you may lose your very wits in the process. I have known more than a few gentlemen to go mad after meeting such an angelic vision.”
I wafted my fan at each display to hide my amusement. Apparently, showing me off to her oldest acquaintances served as Anna’s second apology from her library dramatics.
“And you must,” Anna said to a particularly distinguished elderly woman, “see her at the ball on Friday. Miss Kinsley is a spirited dancer, though I cannot deny she also carries with her a certain grace.”
The woman blinked, and her eyes looked the size of tiny pebbles behind her spectacles. “Is that so? I have yet to see a woman’s grace allow for spirit at all. I had thought the two were clear opposites. However does one accomplish such a thing?”
I squeezed Anna’s hand hard enough to make her flinch. “Anna flatters me. She has hardly seen me dance at all, for she is always quite preoccupied on such occasions, dancing herself.”
The old woman, whose name I had already forgotten, touched my arm. “I do like a wit.”
“Indeed,” Anna said, recovering from the shock of my crushing her hand. “I do believe we must introduce your grandson to Miss Kinsley at the ball. If I am not mistaken, h
e has quite a—”
Elliot budged into our circle, placing his hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Have you seen my sister look any prettier, Mrs. Sheffield?”
“Not at all. She is simply glowing.”
I wrinkled my nose and grinned. Attaining forgiveness seemed to be a sport in the Somerville home. Anna’s theatrics were no less obvious than Elliot’s attempts.
Anna’s cheeks colored at the attention, and she ran a hand down her skirt. If I was not mistaken, I rather thought her bashfulness a good sign. Unlike me, stubbornness did not run nearly as deep in Anna.
“Now, as I was saying about your grandson.”
I squeezed her hand once more, but this time, she did not flinch. Why did she persist in suggesting my company to a complete stranger, a gentleman I might never meet? “Anna, this woman does not need anyone courting the attentions of her grandson, a man not even present.”
“Oh, but he is here tonight.” Mrs. Sheffield flicked her chin toward the other side of the room, where a tall, blond stranger stood at the side of Mr. Windham. “There, you see my grandson and heir to my late husband’s fortune, Mr. Reginald Sheffield. He cuts a nice profile, don’t you agree, Miss Kinsley?”
Mr. Sheffield was respectable looking enough, though nothing to that of Mr. Windham at his side. I bit my lip.
“I’d say she agrees with you.” Anna laughed, dropping my hand to clasp Mrs. Sheffield’s arm instead. “Perhaps my mother is not the only matchmaker in Haven’s Landing.”
I swallowed and mumbled in Anna’s ear. “Do not flatter yourself.”
Mrs. Sheffield’s voice cracked. “I shall stay out of this altogether. I haven’t the restraint of my younger years.”
Anna’s laughter scratched against my ears, and focusing on the final introductions proved even more disastrous—particularly when Mrs. Sheffield took it upon herself to pull her grandson to my side.
“My grandson, Miss Kinsley,” Mrs. Sheffield said.
“Charmed.” The young Mr. Sheffield took my hand and bowed. His blond hair was longer in the back, nearly covering his neck, and the waves in the front were as fussed about as any lady’s curls. He lifted his chin, and his murky blue eyes flooded over me from head to foot. “All the way from Flamborough? Must be a long way for a lady such as yourself.”
Of Twisted Fates (Kinsley Sisters Book 1) Page 13