Chapters (51)
- Cover
- Praise for A Season for Second Chances
- Also by Jenny Bayliss
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Discussion Guide
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“You cannot. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
At 7:25 p.m. Nory was standing outside the drawing room, hugging herself against the chill in the entrance hall despite the giant log burning ferociously in the fireplace. She had been staring at the front door for the last five minutes, willing a knock to come. The sounds of her friends’ chatter drifted out to her, and she felt the squeeze of nerves again.
A whisper in her ear.
“Boo!”
Nory jumped and turned to find Isaac smiling at her. He was dressed in smart jeans with a shirt, tie, and tweed jacket. His dark hair was brushed back off his face, which was clean-shaven, and his eyes sparkled with a mischief that made Nory feel suddenly warm despite the drafty hallway.
“Hello. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I came in through the staff entrance. Force of habit.” He grinned at her. “You look ravishing, by the way,” he said, and Nory allowed herself to bask in his gaze as his eyes roamed from her face, down her body, and back up again. Good grief, it wasn’t going to be easy not to fraternize with him.
“Thank you, you scrub up rather well yourself.”
He smiled. “Shall we?” he asked, extending his arm so that she could loop her own through it.
She took a deep breath.
“Yes,” she replied, with more confidence than she felt.
Isaac turned the handle to the drawing room and pushed, and as the noise from inside became suddenly focused, Nory saw a look of apprehension cross Isaac’s face, just for a second, before he fixed his expression into a smile and escorted her into the room.
They made it through cocktails without event, and Nory found herself relaxing a little. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. These are my friends, what am I worrying about?
Charles seemed to feel the need to express his athletic prowess and extolled the virtues of triathlon and pentathlon training.
“Ever taken part in a pentathlon, Isaac?” he inquired.
“I haven’t,” Isaac admitted. “I’m not sure I’ve got the stamina.”
This was of course the correct answer and instantly endeared him to Charles, even when Pippa protested that Isaac must have extraordinary stamina to work in such a physically demanding job all year round.
“Perhaps,” Isaac replied diplomatically, “but mine is only one kind of physical; there’s little call for swimming or fencing in my daily routine.”