Engaging Sir Isaac: A Regency Romance (Inglewood Book 4)

by Sally Britton

  They stopped near a window overlooking the gardens. He stared outside, at the blue stretch of sky. “Your argument is intriguing, considering that the last time I fought for something I came back less one arm.”

  Essie gave him a gentle tug, forcing his attention to her. He looked down into her eyes, a match for his and inherited from the father neither of them had known well. “There is a risk, Isaac. There will always be risks. When you left for war, I do not think you ever stopped to consider all the damage that might be done by your decision. The loss of your arm, the nightmares living in your head, what it meant for me to navigate the world and Society without you, they are all consequences of your decision to fight for what you believed to be the right thing.”

  Isaac’s throat grew tight, and his heart gave a painful thud as the last fall of a stick upon a drum. “Essie—”

  “However,” she interrupted him with a warning glare, “good came from that decision, too. You served honorable men, those above and beneath you in rank. Silas and I married and fell in love. Now you have a nephew. A greater understanding of the hardships and losses of others are yours, too, with your own experiences. You can take what you have learned and do good in the world, with your family beside you.”

  “Good in the world.” He shuddered. “I cannot even leave my house without the war haunting my every step.”

  “Yet you have, again and again, to spend time with a certain miss.” Esther crossed her arms over her middle and regarded him with searching, curious eyes. “You have always been somewhat thoughtless about the feelings of others, Isaac.”

  He swallowed guiltily and tucked his fist behind his back. “I hate that you are right.”

  “Hm. You always went charging into the fray, though, when you believed someone had been wronged. At first, I thought that was all that your desire to aid Miss Wedgewood was, but I now believe it goes much deeper than that. I think you are more than smitten. I think you are falling in love with her. And I do not think she knows it, either. You must tell her, Isaac. At least let her know what she gives up if she chooses another path.”

  Isaac sighed. Esther did not understand and could not understand. He leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. “Things are more complicated than you know, Essie. But I thank you for the advice. I will think upon it.”

  He bid her a good afternoon, then left while Esther yet wore a concerned frown. There was nothing more for him to say. Though he had found momentary peace in his sister’s home he returned to the quiet loneliness of his manor. There was nothing so forlorn as the echo of his boots upon the floor. Nothing as bleak as the empty evening stretching before him.

  Chapter 22

  Millie sat in the little art room, carefully putting the final touches on the box she had worked on from her first meeting with the Countess of Inglewood. The fox had turned out well. The creeping vines and flowers framing the handsome creature were graceful. The entire work was one of her best, despite the amount of anxiety in her soul as she worked.

  Though there was danger in venturing away from her room, where a lock and privacy kept her away from the other houseguests, she had needed an escape. Isaac hadn’t yet come to keep her company.

  After that moment at the hammock, when he allowed her the smallest glimpse of his heart, she honestly did not know if he would ever return.

  She had a decision to make, with the information Sarah had discovered about Emmeline. Somehow, all alone, Sarah had invaded Lady Olivia’s room and found the woman’s personal correspondence. Lady Olivia had found Emmeline through an acquaintance married to a London barrister. The woman had an entire web of people willing to do her favors, it would seem.

  Millie pulled a sheet of paper from the small pile she had cut, to use for sketching out designs before committing them to the box in ink. Sarah did not even look up from where she sat, mending a hem in one of her own aprons.

  Dipping her pen in the ink meant for the box, Millie considered a moment before writing.

  My Dearest Sir Isaac,

  My thoughts are muddled, swirling like mud and water, refusing to settle. I am at once grateful for all you have done, for your friendship, and regretful that we ever had to meet. Especially under such horrid circumstances.

  She hesitated over that line, her eyes aching with her attempt to hold back tears. The words themselves were not eloquent, but her feelings ran deep. The letter would never reach Sir Isaac. So she poured out her heart for several silent minutes.

  A knock on the door interrupted her pointless writing. Millie crumpled the paper in her hand and turned toward the door, calling her permission to enter.

  Lord Neil. Of course it would be his blond head and wicked grin that invaded her moment of peace. “There you are. Miss Wedgewood, would you care to take a walk with me in the garden?”

  “Of course, Lord Neil.” Her words were shaky, but she stood. “Sarah, will you please tidy these things up? And bring the box to my room. It can finish drying upon the window.”

  “Yes, miss.” Sarah curtsied to them both.

  Millie exited the room and took the arm Lord Neil offered her. He appeared entirely too pleased with himself that morning. It lifted her spirits, somewhat, to see him happy.

  “What has you smiling today, my lord?” she asked, allowing him to lead her down the corridor to the stairs.

  “One of my favorite dogs has whelped an entire litter of healthy pups.”

  She studied him incredulously. “I had no idea you liked dogs so much.”

  “I never said as much. But I do. And these are fine animals. It has put me in good spirits.”

  “I can tell. Congratulations on your good fortune, my lord.”

  He tipped his head in acknowledgement of her words, then rattled on about the sorts of dogs he preferred. His tongue loosened a great deal under his cheer, and the man seemed more genuine than she had ever known him to be. Everyone had something they cared about, something that made them happy, and for Lord Neil that something was apparently the animals in the kennels.

  During the turn through the garden, Lord Neil changed the topic to discuss what he thought of all his mother’s guests. Apparently, he liked none of them, and did a fair impression of several of the more pompous members of the party.

  “Where is everyone today?” Millie asked after an unsuccessful attempt to smother her laughter. “I have not seen a soul.”

  “There was an outing, to the beach.” Lord Neil’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did you not know? I thought it strange you were not among those who left an hour ago, after all you have said about your enjoyment of the sea.”

  “I did not know. An oversight, I am certain.” Millie’s stomach momentarily sank at being left out, as she so often was in London. But then, she cheered a little. “It is of no matter. I am afraid I feel toward the guests as you do. I am not inclined to spend more time in their company.”

  Lord Neil stopped their progress near a rosebush. He bent down to examine Millie, his eyes shrewd. “Ah. I see. You do not like the shallow, arrogant lot upon whom my sister lavishes all her worries and attentions?”

  Millie slowly shook her head, befuddled. “No. I do not. But you do not, either—”

  “I was born into this set,” he said, voice low. “You, Miss Wedgewood, have no obligation to them. No desire to be with them. Yet you allow my sister to trick you into her service, merely for an opportunity to impress these people you do not even like.” A hard gleam appeared in his eyes as he spoke. A triumphant smile curved his sly lips.

  Millie stilled, then fell back a step. She put a hand to her head and walked away from him to the edge of a stone urn. She sat down upon it.

  Lord Neil came closer, steps light, wolfish grin in place. “Had you not thought of it that way?”

  “Not in such clear terms,” she acknowledged. Then she groaned and placed her face in her hands. “What do I do?”

  “I haven’t the least idea.” He sounded pleased with himself, the villain. “But if I were you,
I would not continue on in a course doomed to make you spend the rest of your life entertaining people whose company you do not even enjoy and whose morals you cannot respect.” He executed a low, taunting bow. “Good day to you, Miss Wedgewood.”

  Millie glared at him as he left, then sighed and rubbed at her temples again. “It is not so easy as that,” she whispered to herself and a passing bumblebee. “There is too much to consider.”

  But if she gave up her mother’s ambition, if she lost Lady Olivia’s favor, that would free her. Free her to look at Isaac as more than a friend.

  Would he still want her, if the powerful people of Society ruined her family completely? Millie could only think on one person who might be able to advise her.

  Emmeline.

  Chapter 23

  An evening of entertainment at the marquess’s house had once filled Isaac with dread. Yet Millie would be present, and even if she did not return his love, being near her soothed his soul. She needed him. That would be enough. It had to be enough.

  Silas rode in the carriage with Esther and Isaac, grumbling the entire time. But the marquess had extended a personal invitation, and that meant Silas had to come or risk insulting a powerful member of his political party. Due to his brother-in-law’s ill humor, Isaac said almost nothing on the drive to the Alderton estate. Esther did all the talking, and all the soothing of her husband’s mood.

  When the carriage stopped, Isaac exhaled gratefully.

  “Mind your manners,” Esther said to her husband once more. “It will all be over soon. We can return home early.”

  “Not if Isaac has his way,” Silas muttered as he exited the carriage, ready to hand his wife down. He glared pointedly at Isaac. “He will want to stay the whole of the evening to spend time with Miss Wedgewood.”

  Isaac hesitated before he stepped out. “Essie told you about that?”

  “Of course I did,” Esther said plainly. “There are no secrets between a married couple.”

  “I think you two are the exception, not the rule. Given what I have seen of Society.” Isaac looked up at the large house, lights blazing from nearly every window. “I can find my own way home, if the two of you find yourselves fatigued before the end of the evening.” He turned a crooked smile to Silas. “Bachelors tend to stay out later than old married men, I am told.”

  Silas tucked Esther’s arm through his before he responded. “If Esther is right, and she usually is, I am inclined to believe you will not be a bachelor long. I look forward to the spectacle you will make this evening, lavishing your attentions on Miss Wedgewood.”

  Isaac shrugged, unbothered by the teasing. He meant to pay attention to no one else, as he had agreed with Millie. But he would not be playing a part so much as indulging his aching heart.

  They entered the house, and Isaac prepared himself for a difficult evening.

  Millie knew the moment Isaac entered the room, though she had her back to the door. Impossibly, she sensed him, and turned to meet his stare. At her side, Lady Olivia snorted.

  “I did not think it possible. But he does appear enamored by you, Miss Wedgewood. However did you manage it?”

  The woman made everything that passed between Millie and Isaac sound cheap and farcical. How wrong she was. How blind Lady Olivia was to the truth of the matter.

  “I am myself with him,” Millie admitted quietly, watching as Isaac paid his respects to the marchioness and marquess, his eyes continually finding hers as he spoke.

  “How droll.” Lady Olivia sniffed disdainfully. “I grow weary of waiting for you to do my bidding, Miss Wedgewood. And you have yet to satisfy Mrs. Vanderby’s request in regard to Mr. Weston. Your abilities are proving to be of little use to us.”

  Millie’s hands went cold from the chill in Lady Olivia’s voice. “I may have overestimated my talents, my lady, but it was not done purposefully.”

  Isaac had started to wind his way through the crowded room to speak to her but another neighbor stopped him for a word.

  “I wonder what Lord Carning will say to that,” Lady Olivia hissed. She bent closer, whispering in Millie’s ear. “He has told me such a fascinating tale of the night you came to him in London, wearing barely more than your shift and a robe. How you pled with him to help you. To save your sister from her grievous mistake.”

  Millie’s heart lurched, and she felt her stomach roll unpleasantly. “Did he tell you how he drunkenly attacked me?” Her tone matched Lady Olivia’s. Cold. Quiet.

  Lady Olivia’s smirk was plainly visible from the corner of Millie’s eye. “Is that what happened? That is not the story he tells. Not at all.” Lady Olivia placed a finger beneath Millie’s chin and forced Millie to turn her head to face her. “Mr. Weston says you are a vixen, tempting him only to push him away again. What is the truth of your character, Miss Wedgewood?”

  Millie’s eyes burned with angry tears. “You know the answer to that, Lady Olivia.”

  “Yes. You are a conniving little social climber. Like your mother.” Lady Olivia’s smile reminded Millie of icicles, cold and brittle, but dangerously sharp. “And you will do as I say, or the world will see you the way I tell it to.” In a twirl of silk, Lady Olivia departed.

  “Millie.” Isaac had come at last. She looked up at him, and his whole countenance changed from one of welcome to deep concern. “What happened?” he whispered.

  She shook her head and took his arm. “Isaac,” she whispered, then a tear fell. “Get me away from here for a moment. Please.”

  He did not hesitate even long enough to draw breath. Isaac acted, quietly and decisively.

  Isaac took hold of Millie’s forearm and unceremoniously pulled her through a side door into a less crowded room, then led her into the corridor. A turn, a few steps, and he opened another door, into a darkened room.

  He shut it behind them, and he turned to Millie as she wiped at her cheeks. She leaned back against the wall beside the door and closed her eyes against the firelight in the hearth.

  “Millie,” he whispered, and she felt him place his hand upon one wet cheek. “My heart, what happened?”

  She laughed shakily, and leaned into his hand. “Isaac.” That one word had enough heartbreak in it, a sound of pain she knew he could not miss.

  “Look at me, Millie,” he commanded gently. “Please.”

  She shook her head and kept her eyes shut tight. “I cannot. I—You need to leave. I have ruined everything, Isaac. She wants to hurt you. Lady Olivia, she wants to humiliate you, to break you. And she will use me to do it. We cannot outwit her.”

  Millie’s heart broke as she spoke, but when she opened her eyes, she saw fire in the man before her.

  Chapter 24

  “Leave? While you are in pain? Never.” Though Isaac heard her words, they made little enough sense. His beloved was broken hearted. Nothing had happened to him. Nothing would happen. But Lady Olivia had somehow crushed Millie.

  “If Napoleon’s troops could not manage to put an end to me, what makes Lady Olivia think she has a chance at doing such a thing?” he asked quietly. Why would she not look at him?

  “It does not matter how,” Millie whispered. “Though she wishes me to do it, I cannot. I will not let her use me like that, no matter the consequences.” She whimpered and her eyes filled with enough sorrow and dread that he could not doubt her word. But the fear unnerved him.

  Isaac did not remove his hand, nor did he step back. He watched the woman he loved, the woman he had sworn to protect, even if he could not make her his own, as the hope left her eyes.

  “What could that ridiculous woman do to me? To you?” he asked again, keeping his voice level, pleading with her to speak to him.

  Pain flashed in her eyes. “She will turn the world against us.”

  He shook his head. “Impossible. You give her and her family too much credit. They do not have the power you think—”

  She gulped in a breath. “Leave, Isaac. Please. She wants to humiliate you, all because you turned dow
n her advances. She wants to mock you.” Millie’s hands came up, grasping his wrist. “You are a kind and honorable man, and you ought to stay far, far away from Lady Olivia and people like me.”

  “No.” He forced a smile, tried to soften her words with his own whispered denial. He had to tell her. She had to understand. “I love you.”

  Millie made a sound part sob and part laugh. She pushed herself away from him and put her hand on the door. “Do not say that. Please.” She opened the door and slipped away without another word.

  The woman he loved, the woman who had filled the gaps in his soul and made him forget all that had been taken from him, left.

  It was completely unacceptable. He had lost too much. Isaac would not lose her, too.

  Isaac was out the door, his long strides catching up to Millie before she could reach the stairs. Before, he had taken her arm. This time, when she turned to see who came up behind her, he tucked his right shoulder down, caught her up with her arm, and carried the protesting young woman over his shoulder to the top of the stairs. “Stop your twisting, or we will fall,” he warned.

  She froze and caught hold of his waist with her arms. “Isaac, you imbecile, what are you doing?” she demanded in a hiss. “If anyone sees you—”

  “We will explain you turned your ankle and I am helping you home,” he said, looking about until he saw another abandoned room to duck inside.

  “What are you doing?” she asked again, in the quiet room. “Have you gone mad?”

  Isaac lowered her to the ground. This room had been well lit with gas lamps, a withdrawing room for the ladies of the party, still empty that early in the evening.

  “Come away with me, Millie.” He kept her hand, though she stepped away from him. “Marry me.”

  Millie’s head and heart warred with one another. Her mind immediately drew upon a list of reasons it could never be, but her heart thrummed painfully in her chest. Isaac hadn’t really asked her—hadn’t actually said those words to her. “You barely know me,” she whispered. “You cannot mean it.”