She’s not bluffing. Sienna is incapable of bluffing. I hold her gaze. “We’re not going to hurt Isabelle.”
“Then I suppose we’ll never have to worry about it, will we?”
I expect her to take us back to the private dining room the family uses on a daily basis. Instead, Sienna leads us down the wide hall meant for entertaining. To the banquet room. There’s no other description for it. Orsino knew how to put on a show when the situation called for it, and everything about the dining room is designed to impress, from the size of the table to the paintings hanging along the walls of the room. The table is large enough to fit twenty people easily, and it’s already half-filled when we walk through the door.
Cordelia sits at the head of the table, Muriel standing at her shoulder. The latter watches every person in the room with an intensity that says if anyone steps out of line, she’ll strike first and ask questions later. Sienna takes the chair at Cordelia’s right hand, the seat on the other side of her occupied by a plus-sized dark-haired man. David. He’s chatting with a man on his other side that I don’t recognize, as if this is just as normal dinner. David’s always had that skill, if normalcy can be termed a skill. He puts everyone around him at ease.
I should be clocking the other people at the table, but my attention snags and narrows in on Isabelle. She sits at Cordelia’s left hand, her back to us. Her hair’s been piled up on her head, leaving her long neck bare, and she’s wearing a cheery yellow dress that should look out of place in this gathering where everyone is dressed in muted colors. But no, she’s a beam of sunshine in this room and I take a step toward her before Gaeton nudges my shoulder.
“Focus,” he murmurs.
Right. There’s a song and dance to perform, and we can’t afford to skip any steps. I glance at him. “After you.”
He gives a faint smile. “You’re just looking for a shield.”
“Cordelia likes you more than she likes me.”
Now his smile broadens. “Everyone likes me more than they like you. It’s my winning personality.” He moves in front of me, leading the way. I can’t see the head of the table with Gaeton’s broad back in the way, but I’m conscious of the attention of everyone else in the room on us. Then he steps aside and easily sinks to a knee. I follow suit.
Cordelia watches us over the rim of her wine glass. “So the prodigal sons return. Did you enjoy your month off?”
For once, Gaeton doesn’t have shit to say. It’s just as well. I don’t mind taking on this firing squad. I hold her gaze for a three-count and then drop my eyes. “Grief does strange things.”
Her breath catches the tiniest amount, silent to all but those at the head of the table. “Yes, I suppose it does.” She sets her glass on the table. “You’re back.”
It’s not quite a question, but I answer it all the same. “With your blessing.”
“That’s not all you’ve come to ask my blessing about, though, is it?”
At this, I look at her and then at Isabelle to my right. They want to do this publicly? I don’t know why I’m surprised. Cordelia will want to lock us in, no matter what needs to happen to ensure that result. I study Isabelle. “Is this what you want?”
She nods, slowly. She, for one, doesn’t look unsure in the least, just quietly watchful. “If you two are okay with it.”
“Of course we’re okay with it.” Gaeton gives his cocky grin, though it’s a little strained around the edges. The only sign that this situation is stressing him the fuck out. He turns to Cordelia. “We want your sister. Both of us.”
Her brows rise a fraction of an inch. “She’s not an animal to be bartered.”
Oh, so it’s going to be like this? I give her the look that statement deserves. “That didn’t stop you from sending her to retrieve us, no matter the cost.”
She narrows her eyes. “Something you were only too happy to take advantage of. Don’t think I’ll be forgetting that anytime soon.”
“Cordelia.” Isabelle shakes her head. “This is what I want. It’s what they want. It’s what you want. Stop fighting for my honor when it was my choice to begin with.”
Cordelia grimaces. “I still don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it. You just have to give your blessing.”
She turns that glare on her sister, and her expression instantly transforms to a sickly sweet smile that isn’t the least bit sincere. “If karma exists, it’s going to take the form of a herd of daughters from these two men that will give you a head full of gray hair.”