It was rare that Teresa’s attention could be dragged away from her books, so Isolde had made the story somewhat more dramatic in order to hold Teresa’s interest.
“Was he really so handsome?” Prudence urged.
“The most handsome gentleman I have ever seen,” Isolde fibbed, for all she had seen of the man were his gleaming eyes and a fleeting glimpse of full, enticing lips.
Of course, she could have spoken at great length about the strength of his arms and the hard muscle of his chest and the broadness of his shoulders, but she did not think that was appropriate for such young ears. She was not even certain it was appropriate forhermind, though it had not stopped her from dreaming of the stranger ever since her hurried return to Mayfair the previous evening.
“Tell us everything again,” Prudence said, leaning back against the post of the four-poster bed in Isolde’s chambers.
Isolde chuckled. “Again? Surely, it would bore you now that you know everything.”
“I would not mind hearing it again,” Teresa said quietly, closing her book altogether. “Particularly the part where he spoke for the first time.”
Isolde shrugged. “Very well.”
Secretly pleased to have the full concentration of both of her sisters, she began the story again from the start, where she had danced with Colin, and how that had led to what might have been the most exciting moment of her eight-and-ten years.
“His touch lingered,” she concluded with a sigh, bending the truth a little, “as if he did not wish to let me go, but with the gaggle of ladies approaching, I fear he had no choice or we would have been?—”
“Scandalized!” a grim voice rumbled from the bedchamber doorway.
All three sisters whipped around, gasping at the sight of their brother.How long has he been standing there?Isolde flushed with embarrassment, wishing she had not beenquiteso creative with the truth.
“How could you be so careless?” Vincent snapped as he stalked further into the room, arms crossed. “Do you realize what could have happened if you had been seen? I should have known better than to think you were entirely reformed. You willalwayscause trouble, Isolde. Always. I do not know why I thought any differently.”
Isolde blinked, hurt and furious all at once. “Mama was with me in the gardens. I cannot be blamed ifsheforgot her duty as chaperone.”
“Yes, well, evidentlyshecannot be trusted either,” Vincent muttered. “This is poor timing, Isolde. I am supposed to be venturing to Bath soon. How am I to do that now?”
Isolde glared at him. “You get into your carriage and instruct the driver to take you to Bath. It is rather simple, I should think.”
“Do not test me, Isolde.” Vincent grimaced, sweeping a stressed hand through his hair. “As you have proven that you cannot be left to your own devices without risking our entire family’s reputation, more supervision will be required. Yes, a lot more supervision.”
He walked back out of the room without further explanation, and as Isolde watched him go, a lump of dread hardened in her chest, reflected on the faces of her sisters. Whatever he meant by “supervision,” he had left her in no doubt that it could not be good.
CHAPTER THREE
Tobacco smoke wisped and coiled like morning fog across the loud main parlor of Golding’s Gentlemen’s Club, the scent of spilled brandy clinging to the acrid air. In a quieter corner, nursing a glass of port, Edmund Connolly was not having quite the welcome home he had been looking forward to.
“Why so glum?” Vincent, sitting across from Edmund with a measure of brandy, asked.
Edmund raised his head, having been lost in thought, his mind adrift in an altogether different part of London. “Glum? Not at all. Tired would be a better word. I fear I am still adjusting to the atrocious English weather.”
“But it has been fair all week.”
“There is a stark difference between good weather in England and good weather on the Continent,” Edmund pointed out, smiling at his oldest friend.
“Ah, well, I would know nothing of that. I always imagined I would have a grand tour, but, alas, it shall have to wait a few more years—perhapsmanymore years if my hopes of finally adventuring abroad rest on Prudence marrying.” Vincent mustered a tight laugh and took a deep sip of his brandy as if he very much needed it.
Edmund cocked his head. “How old is she now?”
“Three-and-ten. Teresa is six-and-ten and will likely be as difficult to find a husband for as Prudence when she is of age.” Vincent groaned. “How is it possible that all three could be so completely opposite to one another? Prudence is wild and untamable. Teresa is mute half the time. And Isolde is…”
“A law unto herself?” Edmund interjected, chuckling stiffly.
Vincent nodded slowly, sitting back in his chair as the babble of other men’s chatter rose and fell in waves around them. “I thought she was improving, I thought she had become a proper lady at last, but I was mistaken.” He sat up straight once more. “Now, I must go to Bath, and I have not the faintest notion of what I am going to do with them—my sistersandmy mother.”
“Bath? Whatever for?” Edmund hoped that his friend could not see his disappointment. He had been hoping to reacquaint himself with London with Vincent at his side.
