Page 52 of Engaging Sir Isaac

Millie curtsied, then preceded Lady Olivia out the door. Lord Neil offered his arm to Millie, not his sister, and immediately started speaking of whist. His sister cut him an annoyed glance and sailed away, as graceful as ever. Lord Neil kept his steps shorter, slower, until his sister turned down the hall out of sight.

“I noticed you both missing,” he said, voice lowered and no longer as languid. “Have you some secret enjoyment of being flayed by my sister’s temper?”

“Not at all.” She relaxed her hold upon him. “Do you know the whole of the agreement between us now?”

“I believe so. Though not why Olivia is so determined to cause ruin. She can be a vindictive creature, I suppose.” He cut a fine figure in his dark blue coat and golden hair. He acted the part of a lay about, yet there was a strength to him that peeked out on occasion and gave Millie pause.

Though he had shown himself as an ally of sorts, Millie had no doubt his greater loyalty would always remain with his sister. “My only desire now is to leave your home unscathed by her wrath, my lord.”

The man could be better. If he wished. Perhaps he had never had the chance to be good, trapped within his family as he was.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and smirked. “Look after yourself, Miss Wedgewood. It is the only advice I can give. Though I have reason to believe you are avoiding certain members of our party.” His voice lowered. “There are rules here, Miss Wedgewood. No one may cross your threshold without your permission. Your maid need not sleep in your room.”

Millie sucked in a surprised gasp, then set about coughing when her lungs protested. “How did you know?”

“This is my home. I know what goes on inside of it.” Lord Neil lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “To the card room?”

She nodded her acceptance. When they reached the corridor, they were not the only couple ready to step inside. Sir Isaac and his sister had arrived at the door nearly at the same moment. Both of them appeared surprised to see her. Or perhaps surprised by the company she kept.

Lord Neil paused outside the door and bowed, deeply, to the countess. He spoke not a word to her, though he nodded to Isaac. “Fox.”

Isaac nodded but said nothing.

“This is where I leave you to make your own way, Miss Wedgewood.” He offered her the barest of smiles, but she caught a cautionary look in his eyes. If she said the word, asked it of him, he would not abandon her.

“Thank you, Lord Neil. I look forward to the evening.” She released his arm, then properly greeted her friends. “My lady. Sir Isaac. I am delighted to see you both here.”

“It is always pleasant to be among others for an evening,” Lady Inglewood said, her usual cheer subdued. She looked to Isaac, who still stood stiff and still as a statue. “Will you excuse me? I see Mrs. Ashford inside, and I must speak with her.”

“Of course, my lady.” Millie waited until the countess withdrew to step closer to Isaac. “Is something wrong? You appear…unsettled. Do you wish to abandon our plan?” What else could have him take on such a grim appearance?

Isaac offered her his arm. “I am surprised by Lord Neil’s attention to you, I suppose.” He cleared his throat and looked away, at the other guests in the room they had entered. There were tables scattered everywhere, footmen bearing trays of treats and goblets of wine. “You are quite lovely tonight, Miss Wedgewood.”

Ah, yes. Their plan. Over the course of the evening, Isaac intended not only to make everyone believe him a besotted man, but he meant to engage in a clandestine search, too. The easier she made the whole of it for him, the less work he had to do.

“Thank you, Sir Isaac. You are most kind. Might I interest you in a game of Whist?”

His gaze came back to meet hers. “Perhaps. If you will consent to be my partner.”

They were soon seated at a table with Miss Parr and Mr. Ashford. The four of them exchanged pleasantries during the first round of the game, and Miss Parr dealt the second round.

Millie did not particularly care for the game. When she played at home, with her parents or people from their small set of friends, she never exactly knew what her partner expected of her. Did they play a low card in hopes she would play a higher, winning the trick for them? Or did they anticipate that she would play low as well, forfeiting a point to the other team? Even with discussing strategy ahead of time with her father, when he consented to play, she inevitably made mistakes enough that her team lost the game.

When the third trick in a row went to their opponents, Millie raised her stare from the cards, a blush upon her cheeks. “I am sorry, Sir Isaac. This turn will be better.”

A boyish smile appeared on his face, revealing that hidden sparkle in his eyes. “Do not worry your head over it. I have never enjoyed a game of Whist more than this one.”

Her stomach twisted. This was part of his playacting. How could anyone enjoy losing?

Apparently, Miss Parr wondered the same. “If you two do not win this round, you forfeit the game to us. I can hardly see how losing is enjoyable.”

“Can you not?” Mr. Ashford reordered his cards in his hand, contemplating which card to lay atop the first for the round. “I am certain it is the company Sir Isaac enjoys. Not the cards.” The gentleman winked across at Miss Parr, who blushed prettily.

Sir Isaac said nothing, but his eyes glittered at Millie with pleasure. His ruse was working. Of course he was pleased. He had laid down the first card this time, a high card the other couple could not possibly beat without a trump. Millie put down the lower card in her possession, and Miss Parr did the same.

“You see? We won that one.” Millie sat a little taller in her chair, though she knew she had no right to be pleased. He’d had the trick for them with his Queen of Spades.

“That we did.” He flashed a smile she barely caught from around his cards. He held them up close in his hand, tapping his forefinger on the backs of them without any purpose to the movement. After they had sat, Millie wondered if he could manage the cards one-handed. Of course, he’d proven himself perfectly adept at gathering the cards and fanning them in his hand; he even played without having to put them down to select a single card.