Isabelle
Margaret hosted a small but intimate dinner party on her parents estate. Charles lived alone as did Isabelle, so without a proper chaperone present they would not socially be permitted to dine together.
Isabelle sat in the sitting room next to Margaret, Charles and Reginald sat opposite.
For most of the afternoon Isabelle just nodded and smiled, the conversation was confusing to her. It seemed as if they would start a sentence on one subject but end up on something entirely different before it’s end. Sometimes they would laugh as if one of them had said something quite witty, Isabelle quickly joined in so as not to be the odd man out. She understood very little of what was being said at all, and could keep up with even less.
Then Margaret turned quickly amid the skirmish of words and said in mock shockery, “What do you think of all that Charles just said!?”
Isabelle laughed politely, “What is there to really think?”
“Too right!” Margaret laughed heartily. “You see I told you. Isabelle is simply too bright for your nonsense, she’ll make the perfect wife.”
Isabelle flushed hot with embarrassment.
“You are so right.” Charles agreed and sat his drink down. “However I think your forwardness has put your guest at ill-ease. Let us play a game of cards and get back on the right foot.”
Margaret glanced at the mantle clock, “We have only two hours before Cook will scold us about the quail becoming dry.”
“Time enough for Faro.” Reginald offered up fiendishly.
“I think not.” Margaret nodded towards Isabelle. “Four jacks would be quite fun, would it not Isabelle?”
“That’s practically a child’s game!” Reginald protested.
“Let us not corrupt this poor girl’s innocence before she becomes my wife!” Charles protested Reginald’s rant. “Come let us be gentlemanly and bend to the fair ladies wills.” he pulled out a chair for Isabelle to sit in.
As he pushed in her chair Isabelle’s eye looked up into Margaret’s. She smiled at Margaret, she was quite happy indeed. “I’m having a splendid time, Margaret. Thank you so much for inviting me.” Isabelle expressed her sincerest gratitude.
“As am I, Dearest Margaret.” Charles chipped in as he sat to Isabelle’s left. “I simply can not recall the last time I was in better company.” He glanced at Isabelle, “Or having a more splendid time, myself.”
Margaret giggled with delight over her match making scheme as she shuffled the deck.