She turned her head slightly. The glint in her eyes smacked of intrigue and secrets. “Is it, though? We’ve known each other since last Christmastide. Since then, we’ve met at a handful of society and familial events.” Her fingers tightened on his arm. “I would think that’s adequate knowledge to make use of Christian names.”
“Since I have no stronger rebuttal, I have no choice but to agree.” He smiled and when she did the same, excitement began to build in his chest. The scent of orange blossoms mixed with something slightly spicy wafted to his nose. It further enhanced her allure. “Call me Royce. Not many in my circle do, for everyone prefers the prestige of my doctor status.”
Which was nothing to sneeze at, for he’d worked hard, put in many years and long hours in training and beneath a mentor to gain that title. And neither was the near four hundred pounds annually he commanded for that knowledge.
“Oh, I agree that knowing a doctor is quite lofty indeed. However, I don’t put much stock in a man’s title.”
Another interesting bit. “Ah, so if I were a sea captain, that wouldn’t impress you either?” When Ivan tugged at the leash, he answered with equal pressure so the dog would know he was in charge. The quack and honking from the geese on the water didn’t help to soothe the canine’s enthusiasm.
“I rather think not.” She shrugged and her arm brushed his. When had she moved so close to him? “The titles men use to differentiate themselves from others hold no sway over me. Those things are merely to fan their egos.” Since she stared straight ahead, the edge of the bonnet shieled her eyes from his view. “But what I despise even more than that is the titles found throughout the ton, of gentlemen peers, for those men assume they’re better than others merely for the sake of those titles.”
Royce’s eyebrows went up. “Is it all peers you detest or just some?” What had brought her to this pass?
“All.” Isobel turned her head and met his gaze. Nothing but honesty shone in those sapphire depths. “I’m convinced the ton and its stifling traditions did much to put the fracture in my family.”
He scrambled to remember the bloodlines of her father as well as the current Earl of Hadleigh’s. “You speak of rift between your father and his brother.”
“I do.” This time when she put pressure on his arm, he drew them to a halt and led her a bit off the path toward a large boulder. The Serpentine waited beyond, the rising sun sparkling on its surface like a million diamonds. “Had not the demands of my uncle’s title—and the prison of society both he and my father were trapped in—come between them, that argument would never have happened, Caroline would never have been sent away, and my life might have turned out much differently than it has.”
That was quite a confession from a woman he didn’t know all that well. “I beg your pardon but refresh my memory of who Caroline is.”
“She’s my older sister, sent away to an institution at the age of twelve because her brain doesn’t work normally.” A trace of agony lined her face. “Which leads me back to the ton. Their impossible images of perfection are distorted and ridiculous. No one can ever achieve them, and Caroline had no chance.” She shook her head. “My parents were influenced by my uncle, and it was deemed too scandalous to have a child at home with Caroline’s… difficulties.” The faint tears that glimmered in her eyes tugged at his chest. “I never had the opportunity to know her, and now she won’t see any of us.”
Vaguely he remembered the talk during last Christmastide’s house party in Derbyshire when the eldest Miss Storme had arrived. She’d kept herself apart from the Storme family, and he supposed she had good reason. “I’m sorry. Life is sometimes complicated and unfair.”
“Agreed,” she said in a low voice. For the space of a few heartbeats, Isobel gazed at him with speculation. Then she propped herself against the boulder, breaking their tenuous connection. “Caroline isn’t accepted for her mind, and I’m not accepted because the matrons who preside over ballrooms have deemed me too wild and improper.”
That was a truth, for one couldn’t go anywhere in society without hearing some sort of rumor or on-dit regarding the woman before him. “There will never be a shortage of gossiping tabbies, Isobel. One must learn to ignore them, for they look to tear down reputations, so they don’t have to realize there is nothing but emptiness in their own lives.”
Shock jumped into her eyes. Had no one ever let her speak without handing down lectures? She pressed her lips together, and his gaze temporarily dropped to her mouth. Would those lips feel as soft as they looked? “If it weren’t for the ton, perhaps my father and uncle wouldn’t have succumbed to heart attacks, no doubt brought on by the traditions and dictates put forth in the world they lived in.”
Royce frowned. “But you also live in that world. You’re the daughter of a viscount, a cousin to the Earl of Hadleigh. Regardless of how you feel about the ton as a whole, it’s what has guided your life.”
“Bah. I want nothing to do with them.”
He bit back the urge to grin. “Then you would leave it all behind? Give up your fine clothes and the comforts of the home you live in, merely to prove a point?”
She waved a hand in dismissal while her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t have a choice; I was born into it.” A sheepish grin overtook her lips. “However, I’ll admit I enjoy the comforts that come with that privilege.”
At least he’d won that point. “From what I’ve seen of your family, there was more that drove a wedge between the branches than merely a connection to the ton.”
“Brought on by the title!” Her voice rose an octave, which startled a few sparrows in a nearby oak tree.
The dog barked once and looked at her.
“Easy, Isobel. I meant no offense.” When Ivan strained at the leash, intent on diving headfirst into the Serpentine to chase after a pair of swans, Royce tightened his hold on the leather. Her views on the aristocracy weren’t necessarily wrong but they were skewed. “This current generation as well as the last of the Storme family have problems. Do they stem from the ton? I can’t say without an in-depth evaluation. Yet, I can’t help but feel many of those problems and personal failings have much to do with the men—and women—themselves. Birthright aside, it can either make you bitter or make you better.”
Those sapphire eyes remained trained on him, and the longer he looked, the more evident the tiny golden flecks in those irises were. Did those flecks only appear with high emotion? “I wonder if that’s true.”
“Your cousins certainly struggled to find their true identities before they married.” Ivan barked and ran in the opposite direction, which twisted the leather lead around Royce’s legs. “And consider your brother. He’s of the ton, but he’s one of the most intelligent and unstuffy men I’ve met.”
Isobel rolled her eyes. “Wills has his peccadillos.”
“No doubt he does—we all do—but from someone who has had the chance to observe the Storme family, I’m impressed by the progress each of you have made.” From their location behind the large boulder that was as tall as he was, his view of the path was obstructed. However, no riders or pedestrians made an appearance.
Surprise flickered over her face. “You’ve watched me?”
Heat engulfed his nape. “Only as a friend of the family.”