Secrets of a Viscount (14 page)

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Authors: Rose Gordon

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Victorian, #Regency, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Secrets of a Viscount
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Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

As much as Isabelle hated to ever admit such a thing, Sebastian was right. The only real option open to her right now was to attract Simon with her female wiles enough to distract him from his dislike for Giles.

How absurd!

Even a week ago had someone told her she’d be the one falling all over herself to capture Simon’s attention and not the reverse, she’d have laughed. Now, she wasn’t laughing. No, she was sporting what she hoped would be her best grin.

She’d stayed up half the night looking at her reflection in the mirror and practicing her smile and batting her lashes. She was truly going mad. There was no other way to describe this idiocy.

“Good morning, Mr. Appleton,” she greeted, coming into the breakfast room.

Simon’s head snapped up. “Isabelle,” he breathed. He swallowed convulsively just as she’d hoped he would upon seeing her in her red brocade dress and sophisticated upsweep. He rushed to the sideboard and helped her fill her plate. “You look quite lovely this morning.”

“Thank you, but I’m sure you say that to all the young ladies.” Was that considered a flirtatious statement or asking for trouble? She really wasn’t sure.


I might say it, but I only mean it when I say it to you. You are undoubtedly the most beautiful creature here.”


Oh, you don’t have to flatter me,” she cooed, batting her lashes up at him.


Of course I do. I owe it to you.”


Owe?”

He nodded slowly. “I’ve been dreadfully inattentive to you and your needs these past few days and if we’re to marry, I need to make a better impression, wouldn’t you say?”

She offered him her best attempt at a sweet smile. It was all she could do.


Let’s sit at the far end.”

Isabelle followed him down to the end of the table and took the seat he’d indicated.

Breakfast was tolerable. As promised, Simon had been far more attentive to her than he had been over the past few days. Then again, Giles was nowhere to be found.


Shall we play bowls?”


I’d love to,” Isabelle said, silently adding,
but only if we get to play the whole game this time.
She bit the inside of her mouth. She needed to be more understanding. Truly, how would she feel if she were in his position?


Would you like me to show you how?”


Oh, that’s all right, I know how to play.” She took the bowl from him and walked up to the little strip of wood that designated where the bowler stood and rolled her bowl down toward the waiting white ball known as the jack.


Very good,” Simon commented, coming to stand next to her and watch her bowl roll straight for the jack.

Her bowl veered slightly to the left and rolled right past the jack. “Oh drat!” she said with a snap of her fingers.

Chuckling, Simon picked up his bowl and rolled it toward the jack.

It stopped within inches of his target.

“Would you like to know my trick?”

Isabelle opened her mouth to refuse. There weren’t any tricks to bowls, but right before she could refuse, she caught a glimpse of Sebastian hiding on the other side of a large shrub; he was nodding his head wildly.

She turned to face Simon and batted her eyelashes at him. “Yes, I’d love to know all of your tricks, sir,” she purred sweetly, smiling.

He grinned, but not in a way that would suggest he was flattered. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was laughing at her!

“Let me retrieve our bowls,” he murmured. A moment later he came back with one large bowl balanced in each hand. He flashed her a smile, then his attention caught on something beyond her left shoulder.

Tension coiled inside Isabelle. Had he just seen Sebastian? Slowly, she cast a glance in the direction Simon had just been looking and saw Edmund leaning against a tree smoking a cheroot.

A dull ache built in her chest. She needed to talk to him. Even if Mrs. Finch didn’t think he was a worthy match for her, she needed to explain her situation with Simon to him. He’d been so kind to her over the years, it was the least he deserved. He removed his cheroot from his mouth and gave her a slight nod, then walked off.


I should probably go talk to him,” Isabelle said quietly.

Simon twisted his lips. “I’m fairly certain he’s not too concerned.”

“Oh?”

He put one of the bowls down. “I think he already knows, Isabelle. He’s been watching us all week.”

“He has?”

Simon nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Yes. He was a little less obvious about it earlier in the week, but now—” He shrugged.

“I probably should talk to him about—” she swallowed— “us.”

A wide smile spread across Simon’s face. “Does that mean—”

“I’m still considering it,” she said carefully before he could embarrass himself or make her embarrass him.


That’s all I ask.” He ran his hand over the top of the bowl. “All right, let me show you that trick.”


Right.” She bit her lip. She’d have to make time to talk to Edmund tonight. He’d always been adamant that he wouldn’t force her to accept his suit and that if she found another that he wouldn’t interfere. But she still needed to talk to him. It wasn’t fair that she wasn’t honest with him about her courtship with Simon, as strained as it might be.


Here, you use this bowl,” Simon said suddenly, extending the bowl in her direction.

Isabelle took the bowl from him, catching a quick glimpse of where Sebastian was peeking his head out from around the hedge again, frowning. She knit her brows. What did he have to be unhappy about?

“Grip the bowl like this,” Simon said. He gripped the bowl in a way that didn’t look any different than how she’d done, so she mirrored the action. “Good. Now...”

Behind Simon a good twenty feet, Sebastian emerged from between the two hedges and cupped his hands as if he were holding a bowl, then moved his arm back, lowered his hand and pretended to bowl.

“All right, try it,” Simon said, breaking into her thoughts.

Isabelle licked her lips. She hadn’t heard a single word he’d said other than how to grip the bowl. “Can you show me again?”

In the background, Sebastian came closer to them, shaking his head without ceasing and making the same bowling motion.

Without thinking, Isabelle sent her bowl rolling forward in a direction completely opposite of where the jack was.

Simon was speechless.

Sebastian gave her a nod of approval from where he stood not ten feet away.

Simon handed her his bowl and said something about going to get the other bowl.

Sebastian’s eyes went wide and he shook his head.

Instinctively, Isabelle reached her free hand out to stay Simon, shocking them both.

Sebastian looked relieved. He gave her another nod and made a slow retreat back to the safety of his hedge.

“Why don’t we just use this one?” Isabelle suggested around the giant bubble that had just formed in her throat. Share the bowl? She willed herself not to shudder at the thought of him touching her. It wasn’t that she found him disagreeable exactly, but she still wasn’t sure she wanted to marry him and if someone suspected his helping her was inappropriate they’d be announced within a trice.


No, it’ll be easier if we each have our own,” Simon said, pulling himself away from her hold.

Sebastian lifted his eyes heavenward and threw his hands into the air, then disappeared behind the hedge.

“Have you seen Sebastian?”

Isabelle almost jumped out of her skin, if such a thing were possible. She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised that Giles knew his friend was here or that he’d crept up on her that way. She turned to face him and nearly laughed. He looked all out of sorts. “Are you all right?”

Giles nodded slowly. “Yes.”


A-all right.” She felt Simon come up behind her, bringing a sense of discomfort over her. “Just a minute ago,” she said in answer to his original question, then she pointed toward the hedge.

Giles nodded his understanding. “Simon,” he greeted, bobbing his head in the man’s direction before walking toward the hedge.

“What the devil is he doing?” Simon muttered, staring at his brother’s retreating form.

In spite of the oddness of the entire situation, a bubble of laughter built up in Isabelle’s chest. “We should probably go back inside.”

Simon gave her a grateful look. “Indeed. Perhaps we can find someone who’d like to play cards.”

***

Isabelle wasn’t sure if it was to her good fortune or fate trying to torture her that the only people interested in playing cards were Edmund and Lady Vessey.


Have a seat by me, dear,” Lady Vessey said.

Isabelle and Edmund exchanged looks. Clearly neither of them knew who she was referring to as ‘dear’.

“Why don’t you sit by Lady Vessey,” Edmund said, the tips of his ears pink.

Isabelle lowered herself into the chair next to Lady Vessey and smoothed her skirts while Edmund and Simon took their prospective seats across from them.

“Whist?” Edmund said, shuffling the cards.


Ooooh, you know I adore Whist,” Lady Vessey said with a clap of her hands.

Edmund coughed and Simon grinned.

Edmund shuffled to his satisfaction then dealt the cards. Isabelle picked hers up and stared at them. She didn’t know the rules and hoped someone would be kind enough to explain them.


Oh, can I go first, Edmund?” Lady Vessey asked, a smile curving her lips.

Edmund’s eyes widened, then narrowed and darkened. Then he swallowed.

Isabelle stared at the pair. The game, or at least the rules, didn’t appear to be very important any longer. It was without question that Lady Vessey was flirting with Edmund, and if the way Lady Vessey’s full skirt was moving was any indication, the flirtations weren’t just above the table!


I think that’d be permissible,” Edmund practically barked.

Lady Vessey made a little sound of satisfaction and picked up a card from the facedown pile, then took one of her others and put it on the table. Edmund wordlessly made a similar action, his eyes fastened on the cards in his hands and his jaw tight. Simon was next. He also selected a card from the down-faced pile and immediately put it back on the table.

Isabelle bit her lip and did the same thing she’d seen the others do, not paying attention to what she’d picked up or put down.

All four took another turn.

Then another.

Nobody said anything, but looks were enough. Lady Vessey kept peeking over at Edmund under lowered lashes; Edmund kept his eyes fixed on his cards even when it wasn’t his turn, but the fire burning in his eyes was still visible; Simon’s expression was the most difficult to interpret. At one moment it looked like he was about to boil over with nervous discomfort, then a second later, he almost looked sympathetic for some reason.

Isabelle shook off the thought and reached forward to retrieve her next card when suddenly something large and warm that felt decidedly like a stocking-covered foot landed right on top of her slipper. Blushing, she licked her suddenly dry lips and plucked up her card. She put the one she’d just picked up in line with the others in her hand and held them in front of her like a fan. She looked over the top of her cards at Simon. She narrowed her eyes on him. She’d assumed that their companions were touching feet under the table, but it didn’t mean that she and Simon needed to do it, too.

In fact, while it would seem that Lady Vessey seemed to like the exchange, Isabelle didn’t. His foot was heavy and it might just be her perception, but it almost felt moist. She clenched every muscle in her body to keep from shuddering, then wiggled her toes and tried to pull her foot back. It didn’t budge.

“You need to play a card, dear,” Lady Vessey reminded her.

Isabelle grabbed the one on the end and tossed it on the table without a second thought, then narrowed her eyes on Simon and began wiggling her toes, making sure to really push up with her big toe so he could feel it in his arch and release his heavy hold.

No such luck.

She pressed her lips together. Truly, having his foot on top of hers was most unsettling. It was mildly uncomfortable a moment ago, but now it was really bothering her. She clenched her jaw and lifted her eyebrows, suppressing the urge to make an unladylike noise though she was very much so tempted.

Simon’s eyebrows shot to his hairline and he shouted something, but his foot stayed firmly in place.


Well, show us your cards!” Lady Vessey, said throwing hers down on the table.


My cards?” Isabelle laid them out for everyone to see: a three, a jack, a six, and a king.

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