Page 7 of Engaging Sir Isaac

“Neil Duncan. Third son.” He did not glance at her again as he spoke. “Are you Olivia’s latest acquisition?”

Her lips twitched. “Of a sort, I suppose.”

He frowned at the ceiling, then swung that frown lazily around to her. “Interesting.” He sat up abruptly and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, to study her. “They do not usually admit it, you know. Most of the women my sister parades about in Society.” His eyebrows pulled together. “Miss Wedgewood. I cannot say I have heard that name before.”

“Millicent Wedgewood,” she said. “And I do not mind admitting my place here. I am to fulfill a purpose, then I will be gone.” Millie gestured to the shelves behind her. “Are there no more books in the house than these?”

“Not on display,” he said. “Radcliffe novels would hardly be worthy of this—” He gestured at the shelves. “—monument to education.”

Millie made a sound of understanding. “Then I had best look for amusement elsewhere.”

“What are you after?” he asked, still studying her as though not sure what to make of her. She felt quite the same about him. He was older than she by at least a decade, yet lolled about like a man of half his age. “Music? Drawing? Flowers?”

“Do you mean to make yourself helpful?” she asked, unable to hide her amusement. “I was given to believe you did not like people, Lord Neil.” Olivia had told her that much about her brother, and that he would not be a hindrance to Millie’s assignment.

Lord Neil shrugged. “Nothing else to do today.” He stood and stretched. “I have the feeling you are not attempting to make a prize out of a third son. Are you?”

She shook her head. “I am afraid not.”

“No idle flattery either.” He grimaced. “Very well. I am disposed to like you for that alone, Miss Wedgewood.” Though his words were said flatly, she sensed a hint of humor to them. Millie studied him thoughtfully.

“Excellent. Then perhaps you could tell me if your family has a place where one might draw, with ready supplies. I much prefer to work with wood and ink, but paper would do just as well.”

“There is a room reserved for that sort of thing. Back of the house. Second floor.” He held his arm out. “My mother and sister have no talent for drawing, so it is not a well-appointed box.”

“That is a shame.” She took his arm, her mood lightening somewhat. It seemed her candid attitude had elicited the same from him.

Two strange encounters with two very different sorts of men would give her something to puzzle over, even if she found nothing more for entertainment. Society’s description of Lord Neil as a charming, lazy sort fit well enough. But what was she to believe about the mysterious Sir Isaac? Until she met him, the only opinion she had worth any sort of thought was Lady Olivia’s. She had made it clear he was a scoundrel, an insulting sort, who would as soon laugh at a person’s misfortunes as he would a jest.

Perhaps the man at her side might offer some insight. He would likely be acquainted with the baronet. Yet Lord Neil’s small kindness gave her reason to hesitate. If the time came she needed another ally in the house, it would be best to keep him ignorant of the true purpose of her visit.

When he left her in a room with a large window, wide drawing table, and a sheaf of paper, Millie settled in quite comfortably. She would wait until Lady Olivia sent for her. There was no use making herself a nuisance to her hostess. She was not truly a guest, only a means to an end.

Chapter 3

One of the worst things about holding a prominent place in the neighborhood, even if it was as insignificant as baronet, was that it meant Isaac had certain duties and responsibilities to perform in the neighborhood. His current duty, though, was only his because his brother-in-law was permitted to bear grudges.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Esther said for the third time since he had assisted her into his gig. “Turning down an invitation to dine with the marchioness would have made everyone uncomfortable for months.”

Isaac glowered at his sister. “I hardly think it fair that Silas can declare war on the family, and you are still expected to dance attendance upon them.”

Esther cut him a look laden with a reprimand. “Silas’s little feud with Lord Neil will come to an end eventually. I bear the man no ill will.”

“He was flirting with you. A married woman. While your husband was away.” Isaac was firmly on the earl’s side. And he had his own reasons for wishing to avoid the family.

“Most of the haute ton would see that as perfectly normal,” she reminded him. “Affairs abound in London among the titled. And everyone knew my marriage to Silas was not a love match. Or at least they suspected, even if it was never said aloud.”

“I cannot understand why you are so quick to excuse his behavior,” Isaac said, hunkering down in his seat without a care for how it would rumple his clothing or cravat.

Esther shrugged and peered out the window at the darkening sky. “I know what it is to be left on the outside of things. As a third son, I’m certain Lord Neil has had more than his share of lonely moments. Especially as part of the marquess’s family. Lord Neil was older than the lot of you, I was younger, and your club left both of us out. When there are not many children of the right sort of families to get on with, it is a trial when the few about refuse your company.”

The argument was not a new one, and as Isaac still thought his sister a trifle too sensitive about their childhood play, he let the conversation drop. Lack of friendship as a child should not be seen to justify poor behavior as an adult, especially in the case of one as irritating as Lord Neil.

He pulled his gig to a stop before the large, white marble steps of the Marquess of Alderton’s country house. The massive building loomed over the drive with columns, curling ornaments about the windows, and too many chimneys to count. The entry was grand, too, with white and black floors, a sweeping staircase leading to the first floor, and liveried servants at every doorway.

If Isaac had even a tenth of Lord Alderton’s wealth, his home would be set up well enough for half a dozen generations. As it was, he only brought in enough revenue to keep from selling off his land.

But as no one knew of Isaac’s circumstances, he kept his head high and his smile tight. Silas was assisting him. They would set things to rights soon enough.