preferred to stick her hand in a fire than turn Isabella over to Mrs. Honeywell, but Miss Honeywell, who’d remained silent throughout the whole of this exchange, suddenly spoke up. “Oh, yes! Let us see the dear, sweet little thing.”
Lord Darlington could hardly refuse such a request from his betrothed, and thus, Isabella’s fate was sealed. Cecilia settled for holding Isabella protectively to her side for an instant before pressing a hand to her back and easing her gently forward. “It’s all right, Isabella,” she murmured into her ear. “Bid Miss and Mrs. Honeywell a good afternoon. Show them what pretty manners you have, and then you and I will go for our walk in the garden.”
Isabella shook her head. “I-I don’t want to, Miss Cecilia.”
“Don’t be silly, child.” Mrs. Honeywell tugged Isabella forward impatiently. Cecilia pressed her lips together, nettled beyond measure, but being only the lowly nursemaid, there was nothing she could do except wait for it to be over.
Mrs. Honeywell looked over Isabella with feigned interest, but there wasn’t a flicker of warmth in her face as she assessed her. “So, this is your niece, Lord Darlington? Humph. Rather small for her age, isn’t she?”
“Not at all, Mrs. Honeywell.” Cecilia bit the words out through clenched teeth. “On the contrary, she’s rather tall.”
“Why, what a lovely face, and such pretty curls!” Miss Honeywell gushed, but she wasn’t looking at Isabella. “But then your entire family is handsome, my lord.” She darted a flirtatious look at Lord Darlington from under her eyelashes.
Miss Honeywell gushed on for a bit, in raptures over Isabella, but for all her delight, she lost interest in the child rather quickly. She gave Isabella’s head an absent pat, then abandoned her in favor of Lord Darlington. “Shall we go and see the rose walk now? I believe you said—”
“It’s fortunate your brother didn’t have a son, isn’t it?” Mrs. Honeywell assessed Isabella with cool eyes. “A son would have been tremendously inconvenient.”
Cecilia froze, certain she must have misheard Mrs. Honeywell.
“It’s a great deal better for you, Fanny, the child happened to be a girl. She won’t be much in your way, thankfully.”
A shocked silence fell as Mrs. Honeywell made it abundantly clear she had, in fact, meant just what Cecilia feared she had. Lord Haslemere turned on her indignantly, and Lord Darlington stiffened.
The only one who didn’t seem to understand the implication of her mother’s words was Miss Honeywell, who regarded her blankly. “Whatever do you mean, Mama? Why, little boys are perfectly charming.”
Mrs. Honeywell gave her daughter an impatient look. “My dear child, you’ve quite missed my point. If Lady Isabella had been a boy, he’d be the heir. Since she’s a girl, your own son will become the Marquess of Darlington.”
Miss Honeywell, who’d caught on at last, glanced uneasily at Lord Darlington. “Mama, I don’t think you should say such things.”
Mrs. Honeywell ignored her daughter. “Don’t be absurd, Fanny. Lord Darlington is no fool. Of course, he wants his own child to inherit the title and fortune.”
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Honeywell. My affection for my late brother’s child is absolute, regardless of gender.”
Cecilia shuddered at the look on Lord Darlington’s face. Never before had she seen a man more coldly furious than he was. He looked as if he’d been carved out of stone.
“I only mean to say, my lord, that it’s fortunate it turned out as it did. Lady Isabella seems a rather small, sickly-looking child to me, but it’s neither here nor there, no one being much interested in what happens to girls—”
Cecilia turned on Mrs. Honeywell, aghast. A fury unlike anything she’d ever felt before swept through her, and the next thing she knew she’d stepped forward and, without a single word, snatched Isabella away from Mrs. Honeywell.
Mrs. Honeywell gasped. “Why, you impertinent chit! How dare you presume to—”
“She’s cold,” Cecilia bit out. She whirled around, turning her back on Mrs. Honeywell, and turning Isabella’s face into her shoulder. “There we are, dearest. That’s better, isn’t it?”
“I demand your servant apologize to me this instant, Lord Darlington.” Mrs. Honeywell’s voice could have frozen the remaining water in Darlington Lake. “Once she’s begged my pardon, I insist you dismiss her at once.”
Cecilia hid her trembling hands under the guise of fussing with Isabella’s coat. She, who never lost her temper, suddenly understood what her friends meant when they described being so enraged their skin felt too tight for their body. She was so angry she could hardly think,