She smiled, raised her hand to touch his cheek but then stopped. “When we are done with this mess, when we can put it all behind us, then we will be free to begin again.”
“After all that occurred between us last night, perhaps we might skip breakfast and tiffin and move straight to dessert.”
Isabella batted him on the arm. “You really are so adorable when you’re in a playful mood.”
He feigned disappointment. “I don’t want to be adorable. Dogs are adorable. I want you to crave me with a passion that makes you giddy.”
She stared into his eyes; the heated look seared his soul. “If I made you party to my thoughts, we would achieve nothing this evening. But I will find a way to show my gratitude for all your help.”
Her words were enough to focus his mind on the task ahead. If it took all night, he would leave with answers. Then he could dedicate his time to more pleasurable pursuits.
“Then we must devise a plan of action,” he said rousing enthusiasm.
She bit down
on her bottom lip before saying, “I think I should be the one to talk to Henry. He noticed me arrive—”
“I should imagine everyone noticed you arrive. But perhaps I should speak to him. I’m impartial and so can be more objective.” He knew as soon as the comment left his lips that impartial was the last word he would use to describe the depth of his involvement.
“I disagree.” She raised her chin in protest. “One word from his arrogant mouth and I fear you will not be able to contain yourself.”
Isabella was right, of course. He wanted to throttle the man for terrifying a woman half out of her wits.
“Very well.” He nodded despite feeling some apprehension. “But focus on the reason he found it necessary to torment you. Tell him all you know about the hauntings but mention nothing of his father’s death.”
She nodded. “What will you do?”
“I shall hide behind a planter and watch you.”
“Oh, I will not be able to focus if I can feel your gaze upon me. You can trust me, Tristan. I shall not leave this room.”
He trusted her; Henry Fernall was another matter.
“Then I will wander about the ballroom. I may even go and watch the card game for a while, if they allow spectators.” Matthew Chandler would need someone of sound mind to drag him from the table before he lost everything he owned. Besides, Chandler was a fountain of knowledge when it came to the habits of his peers. No doubt he knew some juicy on dit that would prove enlightening. “But before you go, you should know Henry has a mistress, a Mrs. Forester. It might be important.”
“A mistress? How intriguing?”
“Apparently, he is thought to be besotted with her.”
“I assume she is a widow?” When he shrugged in response, she added, “Then our conversation might prove interesting.”
A sudden wave of anxiety gripped him. “If we cannot find each other in the crush, we should meet on the terrace.”
She placed her gloved hand on his arm. “Agreed.”
The heat from her palm brought a measure of comfort. “I shall wait for you,” he said as she turned to walk away.
He would wait a lifetime.
Chapter 16
Isabella found Henry Fernall conversing with a group of gentlemen in the corridor leading out of the ballroom. He had his back to her, but she would know his sloping shoulders anywhere.
Catching the attention of a portly gentleman as she approached, he inclined his head, the action causing Henry to turn around. His mouth curved fractionally at the corners, the weak expression of pleasure lasted for all but a few seconds.
After turning back to bid the men farewell, he walked towards her. “Isabella. You should have sent word you were attending this evening. I would have escorted you.” He scanned her gown with some curiosity. “I do not think I have ever seen you looking so radiant. Are you here alone?”
She chose to ignore his question. “I have just returned to town after a short spell at Highley Grange.”