Chapter Eleven
When I returned to my uncle’s estate, I took my familiar room. I remained mum about by sudden return, and Uncle Andrew didn’t bother to ask. I thought he was simply being sensitive to my need for privacy. I knew eventually I needed to explain my hasty change in plans. But that explanation happened sooner than I anticipated. Not mine to control, my uncle confronted me after I’d been back just a couple of days.
We were sitting down to dinner, halfway through the meal, when he cleared his throat of the chowder, and looked directly in my eye.
“I’ve made some inquiries, Isabella,” he said.
“About what?”
“About your deportment in London.”
“Oh? Whatever for.”
“I was surprised by your return. Your last letter had been so filled with stories of your engagement, and then to sud
