She did, no sip but a mouthful, and then a second one. The brandy burned down her throat and took up residence in her chest, warm. As the warmth spread, the urge to cry faded.
Isabella released a deep breath. She felt herself relax. “Thank you,” she said. “I needed that.”
Major Reynolds sat beside her, so close their thighs touched. He took her free hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. “When would you like to marry? I confess that my preference is for sooner, rather than later.”
Isabella leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “There is the problem of Harriet.”
The major sighed. “Ah, yes. Harriet. I’d forgotten about her. Is she still with you? Hasn’t she gone to her aunt?”
“Harriet’s aunt has emigrated to America.”
“Ah . . .”
She didn’t need to elucidate; he understood the pro
