Page 59 of Engaging Sir Isaac

Sarah approached with the bonnet and a pair of gloves. “Nonsense, miss. The way that man looks at you, there is something more.” She put the bonnet upon Millie’s head without waiting for leave to do so.

Catching her maid’s hands in her own, Millie fixed her with a stare. “There cannot be anything more, Sarah. Sir Isaac plays a part in order to help me. I play a part to get out of this house with my honor still intact. My parents have expectations—”

“They must want you to be happy, miss,” Sarah said, staring at Millie without comprehension. “Mr. Wedgewood always says how important it is to him that you and your mother are happy.”

“Emmeline is happy.” Millie winced when she heard the sharp edge to her tone. “My sister did what made her happy, and they have not said her name since. They have not spoken of her. They do not want my happiness if it means their ruin.”

A rebellious gleam appeared in Sarah’s eyes, as though she meant to argue her point, but she abruptly lowered her gaze. “As you say, miss.”

Hurting Sarah’s feelings hadn’t been Millie’s intention, but before she could make her apology for speaking too harshly, the maid curtsied and fled the room. Millie took a moment to spear her bonnet with a pin, keeping it in place, and went to find Isaac. She would have to ask Sarah for her pardon later.

Isaac waited in the main foyer, studying a suit of armor near the grand doors. He looked up when she reached the top of the staircase, smiling in greeting. Millie hurried down to him.

He bowed to her. “I thought we might take a walk this morning, Miss Wedgewood.”

“I had the very same idea.” She took his arm at once. That was when she realized she did not wear any gloves. Sarah must have kept them when she made her abrupt departure from the room. Though walking about with ungloved hands was not the worst of sins, she still winced the moment she realized it.

Once they were out in the sunlight, Isaac spoke to her quietly. “Are you well, Millie? There is something not quite right about you today.” He tipped his head to meet her gaze. “You smile, but you feel far away.”

“I am sorry. I do not mean to be a puzzle to you.” She sighed, but the sigh led to a deep yawn. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “Oh, I am sorry. I have not slept well of late.”

“You apologize too much.” He examined her face closely, then his eyes swept the front of the house. “No one is watching. Here, come with me. I have just the thing.”

“Just the thing for what?” she asked, lengthening her step to keep up with his pace. He almost seemed excited.

“A nap.”

Millie laughed. “What? Outside?”

“Precisely. The perfect place for someone suffering from nightmares.”

“I never said nightmares—”

“You did not need to.” He adjusted his arm, taking her hand. “As one who suffers regularly from horrid dreams, it is easy enough to recognize the symptoms in another.”

Of course. His nightmares of the war. But her bad dreams were nothing like that. Nothing truly horrible had happened to her. She ought to give him sympathy, not receive it from him. She opened her mouth again, to decline his well-meant kindness, but stopped when they entered a stand of trees not far from the house.

“Here we are. What do you think?” Isaac stopped them before a net hanging from two trees. “The marquess installed it here years ago, after he returned from a trip to India. I had one during one of my campaigns on the Continent. Best sleep I had during the whole of the war.”

“A hammock.” She had heard of them, of course. Sailors slept in canvas hammocks aboard ships. Poorer families installed them in houses, for children to sleep one on top of another. Had she ever heard of one like this before? At a country estate?

“I have been sorely tempted to replace my bed with one of these.” He gave the netting a push. “They rock in the breeze, like a cradle.”

“It looks rather like a net for catching fish. Or birds.” And she had no particular wish to be caught. Millie ventured closer. “How does one even use it?”

Isaac opened the hammock, raising one side high in the air. Then he turned, still holding it up, and moved backward as though he meant to swing. Once his backside was in the net, he leaned into it and let the net take him. Though nothing about his maneuver appeared elegant, as he shifted and finally settled, she found herself intrigued.

“You slept in one of those?”

“I did. Comfortably,” he reminded her, looking up from his place in the net. Once he was in it, the sides of the netting cradled him rather than closing upon him. “Once you master the trick of getting inside, it isn’t so bad. Here. Try.” He sat up, threw his legs out, and stood.

“I will be caught in it, all tangled like a fish.” Millie hesitantly touched one side of the dangerous thing.

“Here. I will hold it on this side for you.” He took a firm grasp of the other end. “Back into it, as I did.”

Millie eyed the net dubiously. “Very well. If I fall, I will hold you responsible.”

“Noted.” Isaac gave her his crooked smile, that dimple appearing in his cheek.