After dinner, the gentlemen were led into the library that served as a smoking room, where brandy and cigars were to be enjoyed. The ladies went on to the drawing room to do whatever it was that ladies did when the gentlemen were not present, but even in their absence—more specifically, Isolde’s absence—Edmund found his thoughts drifting to her.
Nevertheless, he did his best to behave normally, engaging in conversation with the other gentlemen. The only one who gained a wall of stony silence was Martin, who would not be dissuaded from trying to get Edmund to begin a pursuit of Amelia. And the only one who did not try to engage Edmund in conversation was Noah, which was likely a good thing.
It had felt like the longest hour of Edmund’s life, a jolt of relief cutting through him when Martin announced that they were all going to reunite with the ladies.
“Amelia? Amelia, where are you?” Martin barked upon entering the drawing room, where the ladies had all fallen silent, as if they had been in the middle of talking about him.
Amelia, head bowed, shuffled toward her brother.
Meanwhile, Edmund’s eyes found Isolde, who had not so much as glanced in his direction.
“There you are.” Martin puffed his chest, casting a pointed look at Edmund, who had no idea why. “Amelia, will you play the pianoforte for us? We ought to have some dancing, and you play so very, very well.”
Amelia immediately began to fidget with the capped sleeve of her jade green gown. “Now? In front of everyone?” she murmured.
“Of course,” Martin replied sharply. “Show these fine people how excellent you are.”
By “fine people,” Edmund knew that Martin meant him. The man was determined; Edmund had to give him that.
With a barely concealed grimace, Amelia padded over to the beautiful, sleek pianoforte and sat down on the cushioned bench. At that same moment, Isolde hurried over with Valery, and another woman that Edmund did not recognize. Whispers were exchanged and Amelia’s face brightened, a smile curving her lips as she flexed her hands and began to play.
Only then did Isolde look in Edmund’s direction, but quickly looked away again. But with that fleeting glimpse, Edmund’s body tensed, uncertain of the meaning behind it.
In fairness to Martin, Ameliawasa very accomplished player of the pianoforte, executing a soft, melancholic ballad with exceptional skill and even a rather astounding amount of emotion. So much so, that Edmund found himself rather moved by dramatic rise and fall of the music, yet his gaze was not fixed upon Amelia, but Isolde.
She must think me a fool,he reasoned, knowing he would deserve it after the way he had acted at the dinner table.
He was still observing her at a safe distance when the movement of another figure caught his eye: Noah, pausing to talk to Julianna.
“Of course you may, Lord Mentrow!” Julianna cried, taking hold of Noah’s hand and shaking it vigorously, before giving him a firm shove in the direction of Isolde.
Edmund suspected he should intervene, as Isolde’s unofficial guardian, but instead he tracked Noah’s proud stride to the pianoforte. There, Noah smiled and offered out his hand to Isolde, before leaning down to say something to Amelia, who smiled back and immediately flowed into a jaunty tune—the kind made for dancing.
With a coy demeanor, Isolde accepted Noah’s proffered hand. She had never looked more radiant, her eyes gleaming, hercheeks rosy, her smile so white and beaming that it struck an odd blow to Edmund’s chest. A sensation that was not unfamiliar but had not plagued him in many years. Envy.
Envy of Noah’s ability to be so at ease and so well-liked,Edmund told himself, for he would not accept any other explanation.
He had felt the same way when he first became the Duke of Davenport, left all alone in the world to navigate the change. He had envied Vincent and his family. He had envied their ease with one another. He had envied Vincent’s ability to take his own inheritance in his stride. He had envied all the things he no longer had or could never have. But he had learned how to overcome that, in time, and would do so again.
As Noah and Isolde took to the impromptu dance floor, Edmund put on a blank expression and folded his arms across his chest as he took a seat by the terrace doors. Anyone watching might have thought he was bored.
She was laughing already as her dance with Noah began. They held hands and crossed their arms in front of each other, moving into a promenade that held the drawing room rapt. Valery had her own hands clasped, wearing an expression of admiration, while the unknown woman at her side trulydidlook bored.
To the rhythm of the excellent music, Isolde and Noah bowed and curtseyed to one another, before beginning a series of slow turns, their palms joined in the center. All the while, they smiled,their mouths moving in a conversation that no one else could hear.
What are they saying?Edmund squinted, trying to figure it out, but he had never been much good at reading lips.
As the couple turned, Isolde’s gaze drifted over Noah’s shoulder, catching Edmund’s eye. Again, she looked away quickly, returning her attention to her partner.
The pair ebbed and flowed gracefully, moving together and then apart, Noah dancing around her in a half circle before Isolde echoed the step. Even to Edmund’s eyes, he could see how perfectly matched they were, neither of them aware of anything but the other person.
I should leave her to it…
Discreetly, Edmund got up and stepped out onto the terrace, determined to rid himself of the uncomfortable, envious feeling that swelled within him, as quickly as possible. It would pass as it had done before.
It had to.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
