Drat, drat, drat!
Anxiety put knots into her belly as she entered the drawing room. She drew her hands down the front of her jonquil cotton gown, wished she’d worn a color that gave her more of a calm disposition, and then approached her cousin—the Earl of Hadleigh and current head of the Storme family. He stared out one of the windows with his hands clasped behind his back, but from the rigid set of his broad shoulders and the way he held his head, he was already annoyed.
Drat.
“Hullo, Cousin Andrew. How wonderful to see you today.” Her attempt to infuse enthusiasm into her voice fell flat. “I assumed your schedule didn’t allow for visiting.” Two months ago, Andrew’s wife was delivered of a baby girl, and the earl’s life had been rather hectic since. To say nothing of his duties in Parliament coming to an end for this year’s session. According to family gossip, he’d argued a few times on the House of Lords floor but failed to win over older, more traditional peers to his way of thinking. “How does the babe fare?”
“Don’t think to distract me, Cousin Isobel.” Andrew turned to face her, and even though the afternoon sun backlit him, concern was evident on his face. For two seconds, though, his eyes softened, and he became an entirely different man than the cousin she’d come to know since last Christmastide. “Lady Penelope is a tiny little doll. I still can’t believe I have a daughter.”
“Yes, she is quite a charming thing.” Even though Isobel couldn’t imagine settling down enough to have children, her brand-new cousin would soon steal the hearts of everyone. “How is Sarah’s health?” It had taken nigh onto two days to bring the babe into the world. The countess had yet to leave the house, and Andrew guarded her health zealously. It was difficult to tell which one he loved more fiercely—his wife or his new child.
“She’s well and improving in strength with each passing day. Soon she’ll be back to her old self and ready to receive visitors.” Then he cleared his throat and the customary mask of irritation slid back into place. “I thank you for your inquiries, but I’m not here to discuss either of them.” He gestured to a low sofa. “Please, sit.”
Which meant what he had to say would come in the form of a lecture. With a small huff, Isobel marched over to the indicated piece of furniture and flounced onto it.
“Where’s William?”
“How should I know?” She shrugged. “I’m not his keeper, and his schedule is too difficult to sort.” Even more so since he’d wed. He adored his position as a Principal Officer with Bow Street, so much so that he’d only taken a week away for his wedding trip.
And of course due to their mother’s fragile health.
“He was supposed to be here by now.”
Another confirmation that a lecture was in store, if both Andrew and her brother would head this discussion. “I can’t imagine what’s bothering you, Cousin,” she said in a sweet voice and dared to bat her eyelashes at him. It was outrageous enough, but it would either cajole him into a better mood… or infuriate him.
One never knew with Andrew.
“Don’t insult my intelligence or yours with that attitude.” Andrew once more clasped his hands behind his back as he leveled his angry gaze on her. “These past handful of weeks you’ve become a veritable powder keg of scandal. Sooner or later, you’ll explode into a mess that even my reach won’t be able to smooth over.”
At least he didn’t waste time. “What particular incident have you taken exception to?”
His eyes narrowed and his chest swelled, straining the buttons of his waistcoat. Then, he took a deep breath and let it ease out. “Does it matter? It seems you go out of your way to cause scandal, but if I were to pick something, the most recent of which was the shameful flirting you did at the Waterfords’ rout two nights past. I heard you had a bevy of young men fairly eating out of your hand and that you very nearly lured two into an unused parlor.”
Well, the gossipmongers hadn’t been wrong… Remembering those two men prompted a grin she didn’t quite hide quick enough. Twin sons of a viscount and sinfully handsome to boot. A few years older than her, they cared nothing for propriety and were just the sort of men she wished to coerce into illicit embraces.
When she caught Andrew glaring, she sobered. “They were quite insistent.” Of course, she encouraged them…
“You cannot continue with that behavior.” Her cousin shook his head, and he softened his tones. “I’m not against your having a choice, but please have a care. If you go down this path, you’ll be labeled fast or too scandalous for a decent man.”
“Piffle.” Isobel waved a hand in dismissal. “I never said I wanted a decent man. Where’s the fun in that?”
His eyes narrowed. “For God’s sake, settle on one.” He ran a hand along the side of his face. “Your mother and William are both worried. Poor Aunt Patricia doesn’t need her last days on this earth filled with that.”
Isobel’s chest tightened with the urge to flee, to run through London and far away from this house. Above all, she refused to cry in front of her cousin, let alone show any sort of emotion. That wasn’t who the Stormes were. Instead, she drew upon the anger that was all too easy to find these days. “What do you know of my life, Andrew?”
“A fat lot more than you assume.” His expression softened. “I know what you’re going through, and I’ll help if I can. Perhaps if you talked about what’s bothering you?”
That didn’t sound like her cousin at all, but then, he was still growing since he’d married. She blew out a breath. “Everything is changing. You Storme boys have barely come back into my life, but now you’re all married and have your own interests. William just wed. Caroline keeps herself away from everyone. That leaves me alone with Mother.” A ball of tears rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down. “And she’s dying.”
Don’t show weakness, Isobel. Women seeking scandal need to be strong.
“I understand.”
Isobel snorted, for his compassion felt out of character, which left her even more confused about him. “Obviously, you don’t understand that much, for you’re anxious and concerned about only your growing little family.” She clasped her fingers in her lap. “You have rarely visited Mother; Caroline hasn’t. And now William has other duties that take his time.”
“I’ll try to do better, Cousin.” When it appeared he would have taken the spot next to her on the sofa, he held his position, perhaps doubting his reception. “Whether you believe it or not, Aunt Patricia’s impending death saddens me.”
“Yes, well, it stifles me, presently. Why can I not have a bit of fun before my mother dies and I’m forced into mourning?” She found his gaze with hers. “For so long I’ve been caught up in the wreck of the Stormes. I need the freedom to find out who I am outside of this family.”