Chapter 2 #2
A month after the letter ending their engagement with such abruptness, Lord Kinsley had come to call, as he often did.
Yes, they were brothers-in-law but also very good friends – something which had been formed long before Lord Kinsley’s interest in Emily.
On that particular occasion, however, Isaac had not been interested in his friend’s arrival.
He had been sick to the heart, broken, shamed, and unwilling to entertain any sort of company, even that of his dear friend.
The hopes he had for the future, the delight he had thought was bound to be his and the promise of a love shared for the rest of his life had all unraveled in an instant, and Isaac had been unwilling – perhaps even unable – to discuss it.
He had not had any desire for conversation, especially with someone who might press him on matters that were tearing his heart into slow, pain-filled pieces.
Lord Kinsley, however, in his usual fashion, had refused to take his leave until he understood all that had taken place.
Isaac had been forced to speak of it, to talk of it all but only with the promise that Lord Kinsley would not breathe a word to anyone – not even to Emily.
It had been an agonizing conversation as he had fought to suppress the ache in his chest, clenching his hands in his lap as he had spoken of her cruelty, of her words of betrayal, which had torn at him like a thousand splinters digging into his skin.
Now, however, Isaac considered it something of a relief that his friend knew of his situation.
There was that understanding and compassion which soothed his present upset.
“I presume you would not speak to her of the situation?” Lord Kinsley asked, as Isaac glanced around the room, wondering where Miss Oldham might now be. “Would it bring you any comfort to go to her and ask what she meant by first accepting you and then rejecting you so soon thereafter?”
Isaac snorted, shaking his head. “No, I have no desire to go anywhere near to her. What would I say to her? Would I speak of my humiliation, my sorrow, my regret?” His lip curled. “I wonder if she would delight in that. Mayhap she took great pleasure in making me believe in her affection.”
His friend frowned. “Do you think she could be so callous?”
“I do not know her character, it seems, so it may well be.” Isaac shrugged his shoulders. “No, Kinsley, I do not want to hear any explanations. It would only make matters worse."
Lord Kinsley regarded him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he looked away for a moment before turning his gaze back to Isaac again. “I hear you say those words, but I believe that there is a part of you that longs to speak with her of what happened.”
The perceptive understanding struck at Isaac, making his scowl deepen.
“I think you long to understand the truth, and because you cannot, you replace your confusion with anger and frustration.”
Isaac threw out both hands, slicing the air between himself and Lord Kinsley.
“You are wrong, Kinsley. I want nothing more than to forget her," he stated, trying to hold onto his resolve.
“I should be looking to other young ladies, should I not? Indeed, I believe I want nothing more than to find someone who is a good deal more worthy than she, someone who will accept my heart with tenderness and genuine affection.”
With a small exhale, Lord Kinsley offered a measured smile.
"If that is what you desire, then I will do what I can to help you. However, I still believe you are somewhat na?ve if you believe that forgetting her will come easily, Coventry. If your heart has been holding fast to her for so long, it appears as if it does not want to release her.”
Rubbing at his forehead, Isaac set his jaw tight. “Perhaps you are right, but I must try to find some happiness. I am weary of the pain and the continual feelings of doubt and confusion.”
Lord Kinsley set one hand on Isaac’s shoulder.
“Then I shall introduce you to a few ladies who might be a better match for you than Miss Oldham.” He glanced about the room, his eyes widening briefly.
“There, do you see Lady Annette and her sister, Lady Clara? They are both very fine young ladies, charming and genteel. Their father is the Earl of Tynecastle. Should you like an introduction?”
Isaac had nodded absently, though his mind was not entirely on the conversation.
As Lord Kinsley led him toward the two ladies, Isaac could not help but glance over his shoulder toward Miss Oldham.
To his surprise, she was not smiling as she had always done before, her usually vibrant presence now dull, her head slightly lowered.
When her mother spoke to her, Miss Oldham briefly lifted her gaze, but the smile she offered was faint, almost forced.
Isaac’s heart twisted in his chest at the sight.
It will be because of her father's passing, he thought quickly, trying to reason away the sudden discomfort in his chest. She is grieving, and that is all.
There is nothing more to it. Yet even as he tried to dismiss it, a part of him could not ignore the fleeting glimpse of sorrow in her eyes.
He turned away and followed Lord Kinsley without looking back. He had to remember his resolve. As they approached Lady Annette and Lady Clara, Isaac forced himself to smile — a mask, nothing more.
And yet, despite his best efforts, there remained a flicker of doubt.