Dolores? The others craned forward, breathless, hanging on his every word.
He shook his head. “Only sisters.”
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Are they married?”
“Yes, two are married; the youngest, Molly, is making her come-out this year.”
“How old is Molly?”
“The same age as Isabella.”
“So
old
!” they exclaimed in surprise. “Do all girls come out so old in England?”
“No, they are usually eighteen or nineteen,” he explained. “Molly’s first come-out was delayed by the death of my uncle and postponed again the following year because of an illness. This year she is hoping it’ll be third time lucky.”
“Is she pretty, this Molly?”
“Very.”
“Are all your sisters pretty?”
“Yes, they are.” His oldest sister was a famous beauty. And as bossy a female as he’d ever seen.
“When you go to England, will you and Isabella live in London?”
“Part of the time. I have a house in the country and would prefer to spend most of the year there.” He glanced at Isabella. “We will, of course, come to London for the season.”
“The season in London!” they exclaimed. “Isabella, you are so lucky!”
He glanced at her again, and she gave a polite, noncommittal smile. Catching the exchange, the one called Alejandra asked, “Has Isabella changed much since you saw her, Lord Ripton?”
“Somewhat,” he said dryly. “She’s grown up.” This produced a gust of feminine tittering.
“Perhaps you and Isabella will spend part of the year in Spain, as you did when you were a boy. Perhaps she can visit us.”
“No.” They looked startled. He must have said it more brusquely than he’d intended. “I won’t be returning to Spain again.”
“But—”
He glanced at Reverend Mother. “That’s enough, girls,” she said immediately. “Lord Ripton and Isabella have a long journey ahead of them tomorrow—”
“And a long reunion tomorrow night,” the frizzy-haired one said, causing an outbreak of fresh giggles.
“Luisa!” Reverend Mother said sternly, and the girls immediately put on solemn faces. “Bid Lord Ripton good night; he is no doubt weary of your silly chatter.”
One by one, they bade him good night, Isabella waiting to the last.
Reverend Mother rose. “Good evening, Lord Ripton. Isabella will show you out. I imagine there are one or two things you will wish to say to each other in private. I will see you in the morning. I hope the village accommodations are adequate.” She swept from the room in a stately manner, shooing the girls still hanging around the door before her.
Luke offered Isabella his arm.
She hesitated. “Lord Ripton—”
“Luke,” he reminded her.
“I don’t want to go straight to England from here,” she told him bluntly. “I want to visit my home first.”
Luke frowned. “You told me when we first met you no longer had a home.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and strode toward the door.
“I don’t. It’s not my home anymore. But I still want to go there.”
“It’s a bit late to be having second thoughts about Ramón, isn’t it?”
She pulled away from him, stopping dead. “Ramón! This is not about Ramón. I
despise
Ramón. I never want to see him again.” She folded her arms. “But I must return to my former home.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why?”
She hesitated. “I need to check that everything is all right. That everyone is all right.”
“There’s no point in wondering about that now,” he said crisply. “Besides, if it’s not all right, if the place is in a mess, what can you do about it? It’s Ramón’s responsibility now.” They emerged into the main courtyard.
“But—”
He patted her hand and said in a firm voice, “No, there’s no point in going back. Trust me; it’ll just upset you to no purpose.”
“No, you don’t understand—” A nun hurried across to unlock the convent gate and, distracted, Isabella broke off. The nun took a lantern from a
LISA CHILDS
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