Chapter 2
Had he known that Lord Wickton’s sister-in-law had been Miss Christina Oldham, Isaac would never have agreed to an introduction.
He had only been introduced to Lady Wickton earlier that evening and had not had opportunity to enquire about her family.
The moment he had seen the lady, it had been as if all of the heat in the room had been pulled out of it, leaving him chilled and shivering.
This had not been his intention, not this Season.
He wanted nothing more than to set the lady out of his mind and tear her out of his heart, so that he might find and fall in love with another.
And now, here she was, looking back at him with her cold blue eyes. No doubt she was delighting inwardly at the merry game she had played with him.
Isaac straightened the cuffs of his coat — twice, pulling the fabric taut over each wrist with a precision that bordered on obsessive.
It was a habit born of the last two years: the compulsion to order what could be ordered when everything else had fallen into disorder.
He had done the same thing before entering the ballroom this evening, standing in the corridor and adjusting his cravat, his cuffs, the lie of his waistcoat — as if perfecting his appearance could somehow armour him against whatever the evening held.
Now, with Christina Oldham standing not ten feet from him, the armour felt paper-thin.
His hand went to the glass of champagne on the nearest table — not to drink but to hold. His fingers wrapped around the stem with a grip that turned his knuckles white. The cool glass steadied him, gave his hands something to do besides reaching for hers.
“Viscount Coventry, this is my mother-in-law, the Viscountess Bedford, and her youngest daughter, Miss Oldham,” Lord Wickton began, before holding one hand out towards Miss Oldham. “And Christina, this is the Viscount Coventry.”
Isaac frowned, wondering what the lady would do. Would she pretend that they were not known to each other, or would she admit to them all that they were already acquainted? Perhaps her mother and sister already knew about what had taken place and were now pitying him for his foolishness.
“Good evening.” Miss Oldham did not even curtsy properly, making Isaac’s lip curl. “How very good to meet you.”
So that is how this game is to be played, then.
With frustration in his heart, Isaac gave a short, sharp bow. “Good evening to you all,” he said, emphasizing the last word as his gaze swept around the others. “A very pleasant evening, is it not?”
“It is, yes.” Lady Bedford smiled warmly, giving the impression that she knew nothing of his shared past with her daughter. “Are you here for the Season, Lord Coventry?”
He nodded but said nothing more.
“Lord Coventry and I were known to each other some years ago,” Lord Wickton explained, as Isaac allowed his gaze to turn to Miss Oldham. “We were great friends back in Eton, were we not?”
Isaac forced a smile, his thoughts not on the distant past but rather on the future that he had once thought might be.
“Yes, we were indeed.” Miss Oldham had not looked up at him again, her gaze now fixed somewhere between him and her mother, her face flushed.
Did she feel any shame in what she had done?
Was there any sort of regret there? Isaac scowled but quickly removed that dark expression from his face.
No one needed to know of his present state of mind, Miss Oldham included.
After what she had done by deceiving him and shattering the hope that had filled his heart, he did not need to give her any more of himself.
He would be staid, calm but dismissive, doing his best to forget her entirely just as he had intended.
“I should be glad to hear of your time in Eton with my son-in-law.” Lady Bedford smiled fondly at Lord Wickton. “He is an excellent man and therefore, I am sure, any friend of his must also share the very same qualities as he.”
Lord Wickton put one hand to his heart and inclined his head.
“You flatter me.” Straightening, he sent Isaac a smile.
“You will come to call, I hope? Or, mayhap, you and I might take some refreshments with Lady Bedford herself, to save her the trouble of coming to call upon me!” He laughed at this and Lady Bedford with him, but Isaac did not join in.
This was a calculated remark; he was sure of it.
By calling on Lady Bedford, Isaac would also be calling on Miss Oldham, and that was certainly not something he desired, even if he could not say so aloud.
Thinking to himself that neither Lord Wickton nor Lady Bedford knew of his prior connection to Miss Oldham, Isaac put his hands behind his back and forced a smile.
“You are very kind to offer such an invitation, and I am sure it can be arranged,” he said, without making any proper arrangement.
“I am afraid I must now excuse myself, however. I can see that Lord Kinsley has arrived, and no doubt, my sister will be with him, and I must speak with her.” Without looking at Miss Oldham, Isaac bowed low.
“It was very good to see you again, Wickton. Good evening.”
As Isaac walked away, his pace too quick for a gentleman merely excusing himself, he passed a cluster of acquaintances near the terrace doors. Lord Pennington stood among them, his posture relaxed, his smile easy — the picture of a man at his leisure.
“Ah, Lord Coventry.” Pennington’s voice was light, conversational.
“You have met the young Miss Oldham, I see. A charming creature, is she not? Her father — the late Lord Bedford — was something of a connection of mine.” He paused, adjusting the ruby pin in his cravat.
“Poor girl. I understand she has had a rather difficult time of it since his passing. No prospects to speak of, or so I hear.”
Isaac felt something cold settle in the pit of his stomach. The remark was casual — offhand, even — but there was something in the way Pennington watched his face as he said it, a watchfulness beneath the pleasant surface.
“I would not presume to comment on a lady’s prospects,” Isaac answered, his voice flat. “Good evening, Lord Pennington.”
He walked on, the unease following him like a shadow.
Relief poured into his limbs as he walked away, glad now to be free of Miss Oldham’s company. It was very strange to have such a change of emotion when it came to the lady, for when he had once been filled with longing for her company, he was now desperate to step away.
“You look… disheveled.” Lord Kinsley’s eyebrow arched as Isaac scowled. “You are displeased about something. Tell me it is not about the card game last evening, for then I too shall fall into despair since I lost so much coin.”
This made Isaac’s scowl fall away. “No, it is not about the card game, although you would not have lost so much had you chosen to step out of the game at the same time I did.”
Lord Kinsley chuckled. “Ah, but where would the fun have been in that?”
“Indeed.” Isaac’s lips twisted upwards. “Did Emily rail at you for your loss?”
Lord Kinsley winced obviously. “Your sister is very good to me, I have to admit. She shows more patience and understanding than I deserve.” Turning his head away, he gestured to the vast crowd around them, taking the subject of conversation away from himself.
“So, given that you are here to make a suitable match, just how many young ladies have you asked to dance with this evening?”
The scowl quickly returned to Isaac’s face. “None. In fact, I met the one young lady I did not want to meet.”
Lord Kinsley’s eyebrows shot upwards. “You mean to say that Miss Oldham is here this evening? You did not see her all last Season, and I know you were hopeful she would be absent this Season also.”
“Yes, I was. Alas, Lord Wickton is her brother-in-law, having married her sister. I did not know of this, so when he said he would introduce me, I was unprepared for the meeting.”
Sympathy crinkled the edges of Lord Kinsley’s eyes. “It must have been something of a shock.”
“Yes, it was.” Isaac raked one hand through his hair and then blew out a breath of exasperation. “If I could rid her from my thoughts altogether, then that would free me to fall in love with another young lady – one much more worthy than she! But I cannot.”
Lord Kinsley nodded but said nothing, waiting for Isaac to say more.
“That letter she sent,” Isaac scowled, shaking his head. “I cannot forget it.”