***
The first storm of Izzy’s angry tears eventually slowed, and what was left was... desolation. And shame. Last night she’d practically thrown herself at him—he was right in that. Though it hadn’t been in the slightest premeditated. How could it be when she hadn’t expected to see him?
She’d been floating on air after the success of their party. The garden had looked magical, beautiful, like something out ofA Midsummer Night’s Dream. And then he’d appeared, standing silently in the shadows, watching her with such a look in his eyes it took her breath away.
And she’d thought... she’d imagined...
But instead he turned out to be a complete ass, only without the big donkey ears.Midsummer Night’s Dreamindeed.
A soft knock sounded on her bedroom door. “Izzy?” It was Clarissa.
Izzy sat up, hastily rubbing at the evidence of tears. “Come in.”
“Izzy? What is it? You’ve been crying.” Clarissa hurried over and put her arms around Izzy. “He made you cry? Oh, I should never have left you alone with him. The man is a monster! I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. How dare he make you cry!”
Izzy gave a shaky laugh. Her sister was normally so soft and gentle, but when roused in the defense of someone she loved, Clarissa became a tigress.
“It’s all right. I’m all right, love.”
“If he—”
“No, he’s annoying and stupid and arrogant and blockheaded, but he’s not a monster.”
“But—”
“If I’m upset, it’s my own fault. No, truly it is. I deceived myself, and if I’m disappointed...” She tried to put on a positive face. “I must wear the blame.”
Clarissa sat back and gave her a searching look. “Something happened at the party, didn’t it? I didn’t even talk to Lord Salcott, and I thought you hadn’t, either, but I can see now that something happened between you.” She settled herself more comfortably on the bed facing Izzy. “So, tell me.”
Izzy slipped off the bed, walked to the washstand and washed her face in the cool water in the jug. Part gathering her composure, part putting off the moment.
All her life she and Clarissa had told each other everything, sharing their hopes and dreams, their worries and their problems. Now, for the first time ever, Izzy was reluctant to share. Her feelings were too new, too raw to be exposed, even to her sister.
But she couldn’t say nothing. That would hurt Clarissa terribly.
She returned to the bed and climbed onto it. She and her sister faced each other, cross-legged on the bed, as they’dsat a thousand times before. It made her smile, remembering.
“That’s better,” Clarissa said, relaxing a little. “Now, tell me what happened.”
“It was long after the party had finished. You’d gone to bed—everyone had, or so I thought. But I was wide awake, still floating on air, and not in any mood to sleep.”
Clarissa leaned forward and squeezed her hands. “It was a lovely party wasn’t it? The loveliest ever.”
Izzy smiled mistily. “The best.”
“So what did you do?”
Izzy wanted to laugh; her gentle sister was like a dog with a bone. “I remembered that the lanterns in the garden were still lit, and the candles in the summerhouse were still burning.”
“But wouldn’t the servants—?”
“I’d sent them all to bed. So I went out to do it myself and... and Lord Salcott appeared out of nowhere.”
Clarissa made a surprised exclamation. “At that hour of the night?”
Izzy nodded. “We... talked in the summerhouse.”
“Was he angry?”
