Hastings leaned back. “The only shadow on the man’s character I could ascertain was that he had a habit of philandering when he was younger. That all stopped when he wed. At least from what I have heard. He and his wife, Elenora, had six children. Three of them living. Two of whom you met; I believe. There is an older daughter, married to an Irish fellow and living in Dublin. The wife passed away last year. She was bitten by a fox and passed from an infection. Downey has been most depressed ever since, and only recently set out to find a new companion.”
Jonathan sighed and stopped, looking out the window. It had begun to snow again and the gardens were clad in sparkling white. He wished he had it in him to admire the beauty of it, but he could not.
“He sounds as though he is an upstanding gentleman.”
“He appears that way. Fond of charitable giving as well. He funds the local foundling’s hospital, among other things.”
Jonathan pulled himself together and faced Hastings.
“Thank you. You are a good man to gather all that in such a short time. You may go. Give my regards to Missus Hastings.”
The old man rose with a groan.
“I suspect this is not the news His Grace had hoped for.” He paused before continuing. “I suspect further that this may have something to do with Lord Lincester’s daughter? Miss Gordon?”
Jonathan did not reply, which appeared to be all the reply Hastings needed, for he continued on.
“I have heard that Mister Downey was in search of a wife, and upon discovering that Lord Lincester made inquiries…and given Miss Gordon’s distress right before Your Grace asked for my assistance…”
Jonathan waved his hand. “Yes, Hastings. It is to do with Miss Gordon. I had hoped to…never mind. Since Mister Downey appears to be rather a saint, there is not much else I can do about it. I had hoped to find something to convince Lord Lincester that having his daughter wed the man…” he sighed, overcome by the disappointment.
Why did I not have a better idea? Why did I hang all of my hopes on the discovery of some hypothetical wrong doings by the man?
He sat and buried his head in his hands, shaking with anger at himself when Hastings walked to him. His walking stick made a clanking sound as he walked across the marble floor. Then he stopped and placed one hand on Jonathan’s shoulder.
“There is one option Your Grace could consider.”
He looked up at the man who had a kind smile on his face. He remembered the days long gone when, as a small boy, Hastings would smuggle candies to Jonathan as he played in the yard. Candies his father had forbidden him for one reason or another. Hastings still had that same mischievous smile.
“Your Mother. Your Mother and Lady Lincester were, as you know, very close. You may not recall, but your Mother was by Lady Lincester’s side every day during her last few days. Indeed, she held her hand as she passed. They had quite a special bond, Lord Lincester and your Mother. He looks on her as a sister, always has. I am certain that if the Dowager Duchess was to write a letter to Lord Lincester….”
Jonathan shook his head. “Asking what? That he breaks an agreement in order to allow me to wed Miss Gordon instead? It would be no different than if I asked him myself. He’d feel obligated.”
Hastings shook his head. “Not to make a demand or a request. But perhaps reiterate to Lord Lincester that a match made out of practicality can often cause a lifetime of unhappiness. As both your parents knew well. And Lord Lincester is well aware of how unsuitable a match your parents were, given he was good friends with both. It is worth a try, is it not? Lord Lincester is not an unreasonable man, if matters are put to him the right way.”
With that, Hastings bowed and took his leave, leaving Jonathan behind. Certainly, a simple letter from his mother would not undo a betrothal, would it? If he were to write to anyone, should he not instead write to Lord Lincester? Letters, he’d learned in his years away, often carried more weight than the spoken word due to the care and consideration one had to use when putting thoughts to paper. Surely a man like Lord Lincester would value that notion.
But then, Hastings was not wrong, either. His mother knew Lincester well and might be able to sway his opinion.
He rose from the settee and made his way to his study where he sat down and dipped a feather in the ink jar, a blank piece of paper in front of him.
Chapter 21
Ten days had passed since Isolde’s fall from Marigold, and her leg still bothered her. In fact, today was the first day she had been able to walk downstairs unaided. She felt rather conflicted about this development. On the one hand she was rather bored of being confined to her chambers, yet an extended ailment would have meant she would have been able to delay the dinner with Mister Downey and his family tonight.
The doctor had declared her well enough this morning and so she was expected to not only attend, but entertain the man her father had chosen for her. She had to admit, her dislike of the idea had only grown more intense in the last few days. She’d had a great deal of time to think and she was already quite certain that she’d rather end up a spinster than step-mother to those insufferable Downey children.
Even if Jonathan could not stop the betrothal, and even if he was not the man she thought he was, she would not wed Mister Downey. No.
Jonathan. Her thoughts traveled back to him as they often had. She had to admit, her brother’s words had vexed her and they had frequently surfaced again in her mind in her days of confinement. She’d fought them for he’d given her no indication that he was anything other than true in his feelings. She had to admit, the old feelings of being worthless had returned and it was impossible to shake them.
It did not help that she had not seen him in ten days. Well. She had. She’d seen him arrive with Marigold in tow, but due to her injury she had been unable to properly thank him for finding her. In fact, she had yet to see him at all.
She’d written him words of thanks, and he’d responded with a charming letter, telling her he still intended to break the betrothal, and that he could not wait to see her again. Of course, it would not have been proper for him to simply stop by for a visit as they were neither family nor in an official courtship. At least he would attend tonight’s dinner. There was that much. Certainly, her dark thoughts would dissipate once she was reunited with him.
* * *
Isolde sat outside and enjoyed the view of the beautiful snow-covered gardens. She had had no trouble walking down the stairs which came as a great relief, for she had been quite tired of resting in her room for this past week-and-one-half.
She had passed the time with reading, and of course, frequent visits from both Olivia and Henrietta. Now she was quite ready to re-join the world. She especially wanted to take a trip to the stables to see miracle Marigold and Princely. The two horses were closest to her heart out of all their horses in the stable. She was gauging the possibility of walking there when a carriage drew her attention.
Who could be arriving now? It is much too early for the Downey’s or the Westchester’s to arrive. Dinner is not for hours. Faith!
She gasped when she recognized the Coat of Arms on the side of the carriage. It was Jonathan. What was he doing here? He was not due to arrive until dinner, at least she’d thought so.
She sat up straight and smoothed her hair, which was not covered by a cap or bonnet, for she had not expected to be in company this afternoon. The carriage door opened and her heart beat fast. The dark thoughts, and her brother’s words of warning were all but forgotten, as she knew they’d be once she saw him again.
If any doubts had remained, they were wiped away the second she saw Jonathan’s face, for he smiled at her with such vibrancy, such affection, that she could not help but realize how much she’d missed him.
He rushed to her as quickly as proper decorum allowed. “Isolde!” he exclaimed after he’d climbed the steps. “You look well. I am so relieved to see you have quite recovered.”
“Thank you. And thank you for your let
ter, it gave me cheer.”
“I am pleased to hear. May I?” He pointed to the empty seat beside her and she nodded. Once seated he turned to her. “I was sorry to have to tell you about my failure to end the betrothal with Mister Downey before tonight. I know you must be fretting over the entire affair.”
She sighed and looked away from him and out over the gardens. “I rather am. But I cannot do anything about it. I do thank you for trying to undo the whole thing, even if it has been fruitless thus far.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and saw him flinch.
“I assure you; I have other plans. I know it is only a few short weeks until Twelfth Night, but I shall not rest until I have ensured you will not have to wed that man.”
“Time has moved rather quickly this year. I cannot believe Christmas Eve is in two short days. Will you still be joining us for the selection of the Yule log?”
Jonathan grinned widely. “I would not miss it for the world. Your Brother has also invited me to spend Christmas Day with you and dine with you that night.”
Isolde felt her heart swell with joy at the notion.
“That is wonderful news. We shall have a grand time. I am only grateful I have recovered enough in time for the annual Christmas Eve walk.”
Jonathan frowned and Isolde remembered that he had been away for so many years, he would not have remembered all of their traditions. She pushed her hands deeper into her burgundy muff as it was getting more and more chilly.
“When we were small children, our Mothers would take Etta, Olivia, and me walking in King Charles’ Park every Christmas Eve morning. Your Mother used to accompany us as well with your sister, Mary. I remember the first year after my Mother died, I was still so small and I was so sad. And yet, being with my Cousin and dearest friend lifted my spirits. It is something I hold so dear, that early morning walk. I cannot wait. I must practice my steps!”
“It is a lovely tradition. I am glad to hear my Mother was a part of it, as was my Sister. And perhaps, if you’d like, we could take a turn around the gardens, to help you prepare for the walk.”
Isolde looked at him with her head tilted slightly to the side in a curious fashion.
“I was hoping to take a walk to the stable to see my horses. While I would love the company, do you not have business to attend to here? Surely, you have not come only to keep me company.”
He sighed and cleared his throat. “It is true. I am to meet with your Brother. In fact, we are to meet at your stables shortly…” He suddenly stopped himself, closing his mouth with such speed it made her think there was something the matter, something he was eager to hide from her.
“Our stables? Whatever for?”
He licked his lips and then shrugged. “I was discussing the possibility of purchasing one of your Brother’s horses with him and we were going to take the candidates out for a ride to help me decide, that is all.”
Isolde frowned. Selling one of his horses? It did not sound like her brother at all. He loved the horses as much as she did and never parted with one. Suddenly, she felt oddly suspicious of what Jonathan was telling her. Something did not add up. Before she could inquire further, the sound of an approaching carriage drew her focus away from him.
With a sigh, she saw two carriages approaching. Beside her, Jonathan shifted in his seat and drew a deep breath. He had also recognized the Coat of Arms on the side of the carriages. It was that of the Earl of Westchester.
“They are early. I was not aware they would be here before dinner. I must return to my chambers and prepare.” She looked at Jonathan who had his eyes set on the carriage which contained Isolde’s future husband. “I shall look forward to seeing you at dinner.”
He bowed, “As do I, dear Isolde,” and took his leave. Isolde stood on the porch and watched the man she loved leave. While behind her, the man she was meant to wed exited his carriage and made his way toward her.
A feeling of dread spread all through her body, unsure if it was because Mister Downey had arrived, or because she had the curious notion that Jonathan was hiding something from her. All she knew for certain was that dinner would prove to be a vexing affair.
Chapter 22
“I do not know what to make of it, Ekhard,” Eric said as the two made their way from the stable to the house to get changed for dinner. “None of the stable staff strike me as terribly guilty or as though they are hiding the truth from us. And the head groom is terrified of you for whatever reason, so I do not see him hiding anything either.”
Jonathan shook his head. They had conducted their investigation into the cut saddle straps for nearly two weeks and gotten nowhere. There was not much else that they could do at this point, for they had asked everyone they could think of everything that popped into their minds and no one had seen or heard anything.
He simply could not imagine who would have wanted to hurt Isolde. And he’d felt rather terrible for having to lie to her about the matter earlier in the day. He’d sensed that she was quite aware he was not really in the business of purchasing one of their beloved horses. Jonathan had never been particularly quick on his feet when put on the spot. He could only hope that the culprit was found sooner rather than later so he could tell her the truth.
“Perhaps it is time we let your Father know of the incident.”
Eric’s eyes grew wild. “By Jove, no! He would be ever so upset that we did not tell him sooner. We must figure it out ourselves. Ekhard, there must be something we have overlooked, some suspect we have not thought of. Let us meet again after dinner and see what we might have missed.”
“I supposed it shan’t hurt to go over the list of suspects once more.”
Jonathan had to admit he was growing rather frustrated. Not only had they not found the evil doer who’d set out to hurt Isolde, he had yet to hear back from his mother in reply to the letter he’d sent her regarding the ever more pressing situation with Mister Downey. He’d sent the letter via messenger and knew it had arrived at his mother’s Scottish estate–yet there had been no answer.
The thought of having to share a dinner table with the man who endeavored to make the woman he loved his wife did not please him in the slightest. But he had promised and he hoped his presence would at least make Isolde feel somewhat more comfortable. He had to admit, the only good thing about tonight’s dinner was the opportunity to converse with her and make up for some of the time they’d lost due to her accident.
* * *
By the time dinner came around, Jonathan found himself terribly disappointed, for Lord Lincester had decided to forgo traditional dining arrangements entirely. Instead of dinner being served in the dining hall, it was served in the much smaller breakfast room.
Smaller and therefore much more intimate, the breakfast room featured a circular table. By and large this meant that traditional seating arrangements were put by the wayside and Jonathan, to his great disappointment, found himself seated not next to Isolde, but between Lady Westchester and young Miss Eliza Downey.
Isolde meanwhile, was seated across from him, between Lord Westchester and, of course, Mister Downey, with the rest of the party spread around the table to fill in the remaining seats.
He caught her eye and found she looked utterly miserable, wedged between a man she did not wish to wed, and his influential cousin. He mouthed “I am ever so sorry,” toward her and she flinched and nodded at the sentiment.
Jonathan could not help but wish he could simply whisk her away and leave everything behind, but he knew it was not an option.
By Jove, I wish I had simply written to Lord Lincester instead of my mother. Why did I not? Yes, he will feel pressured into doing my bidding, for I far outrank him. Yes, it would cause problems with his business partner. Should I have to be miserable to save Lord Lincester from embarrassment? Should Isolde have to suffer just because her father made a discussion regarding her future without consulting her?
He felt himself grow more and more furious and balled his hands into fists b
eneath the table. By the time the third course was being served, he could hardly stand it any longer. He’d been engaged in tedious small talk with Lady Westchester and sneered at by Miss Eliza at numerous occasions while, across from him, Isolde looked more and more miserable.
He could see how Downey leaned toward her at any given opportunity and attempted to engage her in conversation. Isolde, being a proper lady of the ton, knew her place well and appeared to answer him in a polite manner, although Jonathan noticed that often, as she spoke to the man, she would glance at him.
“Your Grace, you look unwell,” Lord Lincester addressed him between two bites of mutton. “Does the food not become you?”
Jonathan tore his gaze away from the young woman and turned to her father.
“Not at all, Lord Lincester. It is quite delicious. I simply have not felt quite like myself tonight. Perhaps it is the spirit of the season that has made me somewhat melancholy.”
A Mistletoe Match For The White Duchess (Historical Regency Romance) Page 19
