*Isolde*
Rupert customarily enters any room with a hearty stream of greetings; having been coached as to the proper salutations, he takes a clear delight in observing the appropriate rules. But now he walks into the library without a word, his eyes lighting on my face and sliding away.
I let fly a silent, if heartfelt, string of oaths directed at our parents. I had forgotten… again… to consider what Rupert might be thinking of all this. From the look on his face, Brielle and I had been right in our surmise that Rupert had not been tutored in the particular situation he now faces.
No more than I had, actually.
But then, people have been getting through the business for years. Luckily, my father keeps a brandy decanter in the library, and I hand Rupert a brimming glass and pour one for m
