Page 14 of The Baron’s Halo

“Isabelle!” Her friend squealed and hugged her fiercely. “My goodness, just think of the news. Everyone is talking about the nine days wonder of Captain Grey’s miraculous return.” Her friend’s eyes, always a bright blue, were now sparkling with excitement. “Isn’t it wonderful? Aren’t you thrilled to pieces?”

More than anything Isabelle wanted to shout, “No!” To tell someone how horrible this news was for her. But she forced herself to refrain from an outburst that she couldn’t afford, not if she wanted a life with Sandy. “It is wonderful, isn’t it? And such a surprise.” She stared at the throng chatting away with Mama and her husband. “We just found out ourselves before we came here. I cannot imagine how everyone else knows.”

“Oh, I can tell you that.” Grace eagerly drew closer. “My mother had it from Lady Dasher who had it from Lord Dasher that Captain Grey went to his club—which is Lord Dasher’s club as well—directly after the captain reached London. He said he wished to attend to his toilette, including a haircut and shave before he went home. Otherwise, your mother might not have let him in.”

That was too much to have hoped for.

Leaning closer, Grace whispered, “Do you think his hair and beard were long and wild-looking, Isabelle? They say he had to borrow a set of clothing because he had none save hand-me-downs from someone on the ship that rescued him.”

“I would think, with having several weeks from the moment he put into port in France, he would have had time for his ablutions and could have availed himself of a barber’s services before now.” It seemed as though her stepfather wished to be given credit for taking the forethought to arrange his haircut and clothing before he went to see his family, even though, according to him, he had several weeks to do this very thing.

“Perhaps he was so overwhelmed by being rescued, he didn’t think to do it until later.”

Sighing, Isabelle supposed everyone would want to give Ambrose the benefit of the doubt about everything now. With a look to the slowly thinning crowd around Ambrose, Isabelle nodded. “It seems as though all the members of his club spread the word of his arrival with the speed of Pegasus.”

“Do you blame them, Isabelle? This is the most glorious thing to happen in an age.” Her friend turned to her with starry eyes. “What did you do when you first saw him?”

“I fainted.”

“Gracious, Isabelle!” Grace squealed, drawing the attention of several matrons waiting to speak to Ambrose. They made note of the two girls, then put their heads back together.

“I thought he was a ghost.” If not for all this hullabaloo, she still might have a hope that was true.

“As well you might.” Grace shook her head, staring toward Isabelle’s stepfather. “I might have done the same thing.” She shivered. “I might have screamed.”

Isabelle had wanted to scream all evening but had managed to restrain herself so far. The struggle continued. “It was enough to frighten anyone.” She must get to her reason for seeking out Grace. “But I sought you out just now to ask if I might stay with you for several days.”

The astonishment on Grace’s face almost made Isabelle laugh. Regrettably, it was no laughing matter.”

“Why would you wish to do that when your father has just returned practically from the dead?”

“My stepfather.” Isabelle had to curb her desire to snap at Grace. “I thought it would be more considerate for me to be out from underfoot while he and my mother were getting reacquainted.”

Eyes big, Grace’s cheeks went cherry red. “Oh, of course they would wish…to be together…after such a long time apart.”

“Exactly.” Thank goodness she didn’t have to explain it in more embarrassing detail to her friend. She hated to abandon her mother, but he was her husband, after all. “I would only be in the way and then, of course, I’d be going out each evening, dragging them to entertainments, like tonight, when I’m certain they would much rather remain at home alone.”

“That does make sense, Isabelle.” Her friend’s cheeks had returned to a normal color, her mouth again in a smile. “Let me go ask mother, but I’m certain it will be fine, especially when I explain why you wish to come. Mother is so sensitive to such things.” She started to go, then halted, thinking. “You can come for luncheon tomorrow and stay through the weekend or even until next week. It will be nice to have someone to be with as we prepare to go out. It’s been lonely since my sister married.” Grace’s gaze darted around the room until she spied her mother in the thick of the hub of people surrounding Isabelle’s parents. “There she is.” She waggled her fingers as she left. “I’ll see you after the first set.”

Relief washed through Isabelle, making her shoulders slump. She’d hoped against hope for such a swift invitation. Grace had been a true friend always. One of the few people Isabelle could count on, even if she couldn’t quite confide in her completely. But visiting her friend’s home would take care of almost a week during which she could figure something out. Perhaps a hasty trip to visit her grandmother in Northern England could be arranged.

Unfortunately, that still left tonight to worry about, both here and later at home. To deter her stepfather once they returned home, she’d consult Cooper first chance she got and arrange for the maid to stay in Isabelle’s bed tonight. Hopefully that would keep her stepfather’s violence at bay. Even if he threatened to sack Cooper to get her out of the room, Isabelle could assure her she’d not lose her position if she remained steadfast. Perhaps if she’d had a lady’s maid three years ago, it would have made a difference. But she’d been young and expected to tend to her own needs while in the schoolroom.

That left the time spent here at the ball to be worked out, but if she could enlist Sandy’s aid, all should be well. He seemed a very resourceful gentleman. She must go in search of him this instant. Pulling out her dance card, a quiver of trepidation shot through her. Although her first dance had been promised to Sandy, most of the other spaces were blank. She could not allow them to remain so. Her stepfather would make good on his chilling words as they left the house.

At that moment, the strains of the orchestra tuning up sounded throughout the ballroom. Isabelle sighed with relief and immediately scanned the crowd for her partner. There he was. Relief was tempered with annoyance for he had emerged from the horde still gathered around her mother and stepfather. Reluctant to go even that close to them, she continued to stand and stare at Sandy, willing him to look her way.

At last he spied her, his face lighting up as he did, then hurried toward her.

As he approached, fear suddenly shot through Isabelle. Was Sandy truly the man she believed him to be? Would he understand the horror she’d gone through? More importantly, would he agree to help protect her?

“Miss Devereaux, what an extraordinary evening it must be for you.” Sandy bowed, smiling broadly. “I spoke with your mother and stepfather just now. It is amazing that such luck came your way.”

Stomach churning, Isabelle feared she’d be terribly ill if Sandy didn’t stop prattling on about her good luck. Everyone’s starry-eyed gushing over Ambrose Grey was about to make her retch in public. She had to make Sandy stop so she grabbed his hand. “They are starting the dance now.” Without another word, she towed him onto the ballroom floor. It wasn’t the most elegant action, but it worked. Sandy stood beside her, mouth agape. “Well, we needed to take our places.”

The orchestra struck up the tune—a polka, thank goodness—and they were off in the exuberant dance.

“You seem ill-at-ease this evening, Miss Devereaux. Sandy held her tightly at the waist, usually evoking a sense of joy in her.