Of Twisted Fates (Kinsley Sisters Book 1)

  I flinched. “Have I said something wrong again? I admit I do that often, far too often. My mother is always advising me to err on the side of silence, but my tongue seems to run away from me, and I cannot seem to school it into anything ladylike.”

  “My absence...” Mr. Windham said my name as an exhale, and I sensed something unseen weighed against his frame. “It’s what all the fine, young, rich gentlemen do. I went as much for my parents as myself, though my reasons were to provide me some separation. Separation from society, family, expectations, but then I come back, and they’re all here once again.”

  My hands were now clasped in front of me, and I followed his aimless walk around the winding paths. “You may be frank with me.”

  He pushed his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Elliot, his mother, my mother, even Anna herself, dropped hints about our—Anna’s and my—eventual union since I was a child. I never paid much attention to it, for I never thought the notion serious. Indeed, no one but Anna and my mother did mean it seriously, and only shortly before my departure did I realize Anna had placed her hopes on our union. She never said that directly, but her conduct said more than enough.”

  My heart stopped, and a buzzing in my ears threatened to drown out his next words.

  “Two years is enough time for a girl to forget a man,” he said slowly. “At least I had hoped.”

  My hands grew clammy, and I wiped them down the front of my skirt. Anna had known him for much longer, and her feelings had to trump my own. “You cannot mean that. You cannot mean to tell me, Anna’s closest friend, that you do not care for her, that you do not—”

  “I do mean to say such things.” He stared at me, and his brows drew into a worrisome peak.

  “But Anna…She esteems you so—”

  “And now you should think me spoiled,” he said. “What kind of man has woes such as touring the continent, and putting off perfectly amiable ladies?”

  No words came. He was more principled than spoiled—a man that could allow convictions to trump duty, wealth, beauty, and familial expectation. I had tried for such strength when refusing Mr. Braithewaite.

  “Miss Kinsley, Anna is complicated and so is my predicament, but I hope you will not find me reprehensible in my conduct. I do not believe that I have ever given her reason to hope...”

  The reality of Anna’s plight overwhelmed me. I had known Mr. Windham for a short time, yet I saw in him qualities I had yet to find in another. He was playful and witty, yet sympathetic and kind. His affinity for books and knowledge was as attractive as his generosity in sharing that knowledge with his friends like Elliot. His presence was unlike others, too; I had never felt such duplicity—comfort yet nervousness—around anyone in my life. There was a liveliness in his manner that was cushioned by his unfailing kindness.

  And that did not touch upon his handsomeness. I adored the way he smiled, the way the skin wrinkled near his eyes when he became animated. The color of his eyes—honey brown but with specks of chestnut—held more splendor than most men possessed in their entirety.

  Anna. My heart ached for her.

  “Miss Kinsley, you must think I am horrid.”

  I closed my eyes. “No.”

  Why did he confess such things to me? He must have known that I wished for her happiness. I couldn’t bear to think of her pending disappointment.

  His hand wrapped around mine, pulling it back into the nook of his arm. “And though you may worry otherwise, she is well aware of my feelings on the matter. I have told her in no uncertain terms. She wrote me many letters, which I answered with directness. I only thought you should know, so that you might—”

  I scanned the ivy in front of me, the way it cascaded up the wall—a feat most would think impossible. Anna possessed the same tenacity, but her uphill battle was all for nothing. “I cannot play the part of messenger, Mr. Windham.”

  “I would not wish you to.”

  I pressed a hand against the stone, cool to the touch. “Then why? Why tell me, when you gain nothing and I am burdened, knowing Anna will suffer at the news?”

  “Isabelle.”

  I had never heard my name fall from the lips of a gentleman, and Mr. Windham spoke it like a symphony. I could not resist meeting his glance.

  His cheeks held the slightest color. “I do not wish to burden you, but Anna has a way of laying claim to whatever she wishes, and I could not have you believe that she possessed a claim to me.”

  “Then—” I moved away from him.

  He could not mean to imply interest in me. There were a multitude of reasons why that was impossible—I was poor, raised in the country, and, far more importantly, unwilling to betray my friend. If Mr. Windham meant to hurt Anna, I could not inflict further injury by engaging the attentions of the very man that rejected her.

  He held my glance, as if to reassure me.

  Anna’s laughter, from behind us broke through the seriousness of the moment. I ventured a glance over my shoulder. She stood on the arm of Mr. Barrington, and the pair of them were opposite Miss Guppy and Mr. Gregory. Though her laughter rang in response to Mr. Gregory, her eyes fixed in on my and Mr. Windham’s direction.

  Our eyes met, and she brandished a coy smile. “Isabelle, you must hear Mr. Gregory’s recent poem.”

  Mr. Windham retreated from my side, the intimacy of a moment torn apart by Anna once again.

  I released a quick breath. Without Mr. Windham’s heavy glance, I was able to breathe once more. The weight of such attention, particularly from him, proved maddening and frightful, like the summer storms I’d witnessed many times in Bridlington. I felt just as torn and whipped about by my feelings for Mr. Windham. Sincere but impossible. Guilt, overwhelming guilt. Hope, piercing and undeterred. Pathetic and insecure. Anger.

  I wrapped my arms around my middle. I was not the angry sort.

  Anna pulled Mr. Barrington in our direction. Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “Mr. Barrington does not wish to dance at the ball tomorrow evening, and Mr. Gregory took it upon himself to compose a verse on dancing. I hardly realized so many words rhymed—dance and prance, jig and wig, toes and woes.”

  Mr. Barrington did not look the least amused.

  “Will you be dancing, Mr. Windham?” Anna asked. “I have not had the privilege of seeing your abilities, as I was not out when you left for your travels. I’d never forgive you if you denied me a chance to evaluate your waltz.”

  The back of my neck burned. My emotions seemed irrational, pathetic.

  “Then I shall take care to dance in your direction,” Mr. Windham said, still peering down at me. “I was just telling Miss Kinsley of my wish to dance with her.”

  I felt like a chess piece, being maneuvered between Anna and Mr. Windham.

  Anna giggled. “Isabelle does not waltz the Sauteuse. In fact, I rather think she believes such things scandalous.”

  “Not at all,” I lied.

  “Oh?” Her mouth hung open in surprise.

  I shrugged. “I suppose it’s time I learned.”

  Goodness. What was I agreeing to? My feet were as clumsy as my fingers. However, impulsivity coupled with anger left me little choice. My pride would not retreat, not in front of Anna or Mr. Windham.

  Mr. Barrington tilted his head, scanning my expression. I felt transparent under his watch. The silent guest seemed to see through any pretense.

  Anna clasped her hands together. “I cannot wait.”

  Chapter 22

  Simon

  My thoughts would not stray from the idea of dancing the Sauteuse with Isabelle Kinsley. Her Christian name had dropped from my lips without a second thought. I had not asked her permission to be so informal. I had been far too honest with her in my feelings of Anna. There was a fair chance she thought of me as a...some type of dishonorable gentleman.

  Leave it to me to make such a mess in a simple walk about the gardens. But with her, I found I could be nothing but honest, and I relished the ease with which she took m
y admissions.

  “You look very fine, sir.” Kearns stepped back, admiring his work.

  I rested my hands on yet another waistcoat Kearns had ordered from London. “You are an artist, dear friend.”

  Kearns’ gaze fell to the floor. “You are too kind, sir.”

  Mother’s lady’s maid knocked and briefly explained that my presence was requested to aid them in walking to dinner. The walk with Miss Kinsley was still fresh in my mind as I stood outside my grandmother’s doorway. What Mother would have said if her and grandmother had come down for tea.

  Mother’s maid knocked twice and slipped through. I followed.

  “Mother, please,” my mother begged. “It is old…”

  Grandmother held a handkerchief with Grandfather’s initials embroidered on the corner. My heart cracked.

  “Dear Grandmother.” I took two long steps toward her. “You shall be the envy of all tonight. You are exquisite.”

  “My handsome boy,” she replied.

  In this moment, I couldn’t ascertain if she was aware of her surroundings, or even who I was. “Will you allow me to escort you to dinner?”

  Mother’s lips pursed and she shook her head slowly.

  “It is not so bad,” I whispered. “We shall all be seated at the table. I will request that you and I sit on either side of her.”

  Surely, hiding a simple handkerchief would not be so difficult. She was an old wealthy woman whose husband passed only a few years ago. Any decent member of society would allow her some leeway.

  “I do not wish for my mother to...to…” Mother whispered but then stopped, her lower lip trembling.

  I left Grandmother’s side to rest a hand on either of my mother’s shoulders. “I shall make certain that we are on either side of her. If she becomes agitated in the least, I can mention a long walk and escort her to her room.”

  Mother simply nodded, and then swallowed. In all my years as her son, I had never seen her so...lacking in words.

  “Mother,” I said again softly. “It will be all right.”

  “She is just so changed,” Mother whispered. “How we could all do with light female company in the house.”

  At every moment, even now while in distress, Mother was pushing me forward in directions I did not wish to go.

  “So, a physician’s daughter may not be the worst companion for Grandmother,” I said cautiously.

  Mother’s scoff said far more than words ever could. “Do not tease me so, Simon. I cannot handle such insensitivity while my mother is in distress.”

  Grandmother didn’t seem much in distress. She once again stood at the window, peering outside.

  “Shall we go to dinner?” I offered my arm, which she immediately took.

  “Such charming company,” Grandmother said as she clutched the handkerchief more tightly.

  We made our way down the hall and the stairway where Anna and Miss Kinsley stood together at the entrance of the long dining hall.

  “Mr. Windham, Mrs. Windham, Mrs. Lovell,” Miss Kinsley said politely with a slight curtsy.

  Mother gave the faintest of nods.

  Grandmother smiled with her new unfocused gaze. “Such lovely young women.”

  “Mrs. Windham,” Anna said warmly. “We have place cards. I would love to show you to your—”

  “Would you be so kind as to place my mother and myself on either side of my grandmother?” I asked.

  “I had made certain that we could be—” Anna started but Miss Kinsley interrupted.

  “Of course,” Miss Kinsley said with a smile. “One brief change will suit your needs.” She grasped Anna’s arm and they slipped into the dining hall.

  “This is why,” Mother whispered, “we do not marry young women from the country.”

  There was no need to interpret Mother’s words. Miss Kinsley had interrupted Anna, who I was certain would be ready to prevent any seating exchange that didn’t work to her advantage. What Mother did not realize, and may not ever realize due to her prejudice, was that Miss Kinsley’s character far surpassed that of Anna in every way—or nearly every way. Her lack of fortune could not be overlooked. Not by anyone in society. No matter her kindness or talent or grace.

  “Dear Simon!” Mr. Gregory boomed. “A gentleman who is not matched, nor has one ever hatched, so compromising a scheme, as to make the ladies…” he tapered off. “Perhaps I shall work on that one a bit longer.”

  I could not think of a possible acceptable finish to that rhyme.

  He coughed once, perhaps coming to the same realization as myself. Elliot and Mary walked down the stairs together, portraits of Somerville family members placed along the walls above them. Their heads tilted toward one another, and while I could not make out their words, their hushed tones said that they were already back to their comfortable ways with one another.

  My friend’s match had been simple. His parents had always wished for their union, no matter the slight age difference. Her parents, I’m sure, were simply pleased that their daughter had found a match.

  Without societal rules, would Mary have found someone sooner? Someone other than Elliot? Could the conventions have helped him while in the same turn, prevented me from pursuing the young woman who had most captured my attention?

  “Oh, don’t be silly, dear!” Mrs. Somerville’s voice rang from within the room.

  I moved forward, Grandmother still on my arm, to see Mrs. Somerville and Anna pointing at chairs while two servants dashed back and forth with name cards.

  I leaned down to whisper in Grandmother’s ear. “Do you not think this rather amusing?”

  She patted my hand. Fortunately, we were the first to arrive for dinner and would hopefully be seated before much could be discerned about my grandmother’s state of mind.

  “I’m quite certain they will have it sorted soon,” Miss Kinsley said with a smile. Her eyes immediately caught the small piece of fabric in Grandmother’s hand. Her brows pinched slightly.

  “William Lovell,” Grandmother said softly. “This was from my William Lovell.”

  Miss Kinsley nodded once and offered Grandmother a slight smile.

  “Let us sit,” Mother said as she breezed past me, Grandmother, and Miss Kinsley without another word.

  And she accused Miss Kinsley of rudeness.

  I turned to apologize to Miss Kinsley, but Anna was presently in front of us, urging us to our chairs.

  “We have you perfectly situated,” Anna released a slight giggle over her words. “Mr. Sheffield requested a seat next to you this evening, but I’ve placed myself directly across from you so that we might know one another’s minds throughout dinner.”

  Brilliant.

  Mr. Barrington paused next to Isabelle, and pulled her chair out for her. The smile on her face didn’t have the natural ease I was so used to seeing on her, and when sitting, one of the large candelabras would block my view entirely.

  I released a long sigh as I helped Grandmother into her chair. Mother’s hand covered Grandmother’s handkerchief exactly. I still couldn’t understand the harm in a woman such as my grandmother carrying a token from her deceased husband.

  My opinion on this matter was clearly unwelcome.

  Mr. Sheffield took the seat to my left, flipping his coattails behind him as he sat and waited for one of the servants to help him settle against the table.

  He was the exact type of gentleman I’d never had much patience for. Why had he been invited back after the musicale?

  “Mrs. Somerville has strange taste in guests, does she not?” he asked quietly.

  I glanced up to see him eyeing in Miss Kinsley’s direction.

  “I’ve always found Mrs. Somerville to be a woman who creates rather diverse gatherings,” I replied. “And I believe us all the better for it.”

  He did not respond for a moment, and I found myself relieved to not have to put on pretense for the briefest period of time.

  “You have recently finished a tour of the continent?” he
asked as he lifted a glass of wine.

  Food was carried in by two rows of staff who cautiously set a first course in front of each guest.

  “I did, yes,” I responded. “Mother says I traveled rather late. Apparently, it’s all the rage to be gone between the ages of eighteen and twenty, rather than waiting until one is my age.”

  “She is correct,” Mr. Sheffield responded with a smug twist in his mouth. “But I shall not hold it against you.”

  Did he expect me to thank him for such a comment?

  “Elliot joined me in Italy, and my parents traveled with me for the first portion,” I explained. “Elliot shares my fondness for cards.”

  “But perhaps not your skill,” Elliot teased over the table.

  Anna’s smile was immediate. “I’d imagine it is difficult for you to find someone well matched to your talents.”

  “Your friend out-matched me only the other morning,” I responded.

  A person with whom Anna was not well acquainted would not have noticed the slight twitch in her smile, but I did notice it and took far too much satisfaction in knowing I had perhaps unsettled her a small amount.

  Considering what had transpired between us, Anna should have her smile set on someone else. I glanced at Mr. Sheffield. “You have been to London recently?”

  “Of course,” he responded. “The Somerville’s invitation came at the perfect time. We had been home just long enough to wonder how to fill our days.”

  “Miss Somerville delights in London.” I placed my spoon in my soup and drew a short sip.

  Grandmother’s bowl was already nearly empty. At least she wasn’t lacking in appetite.

  “I do,” Anna gushed. “Nearly as much as you and my brother.”

  “Oh, you are mistaken,” I said, attempting to maintain a jovial tone. “I go to London for cards and because Mother insists.”

  “Oh, Simon,” Mother stepped in. “You do not mean that.”

  I leaned forward to glance in Mother’s direction, at the same time witnessed Miss Kinsley wipe the delicate corner of her mouth with a napkin.

  Mr. Gregory seemed to notice her gesture as well, as this was perhaps the first time I had seen his attention focused on a single individual, rather than the entire room as he attempted to entertain us all.