Letitia looked as though she might cry. Isobel became aware of the servant hovering in the background, and hastened to relieve them of his presence. "Haggock," she said. "Lady Morgan has come to spend some few days with us. Have you not?" she asked Letitia, who nodded silently.
"I have been excessively stupid Haggock. In all the confusion with Lord Francis I neglected to tell the staff that I received a note from my friend two weeks ago telling me that she planned to visit, and I was so full of my nursing duties that I forgot to mention it. It was dreadfully scatter‑brained of me. Ask Mrs. Bridges to prepare a chamber for Lady Morgan, and fetch a maid to take care of the children. And have some tea and cakes brought in to the sitting room immediately. We must make our guest welcome."
Haggock bowed and hurried from the hall, mystified by Isobel's behavior. In all his years he had never known Miss Isobel to forget that visitors were coming, but they were clearly here, and the staff must be alerted.
In the sitting room Isobel hovered over Letitia. "My dear, why are you here? Are you in good health?"
Letitia responded by placing her face in her hands and bursting into tears. Isobel gazed at her in astonishment and then sat down next to her and clasped her in her arms. Letitia continued to cry, and Isobel sat rocking her as she wept and shuddered.
Isobel was amazed and frightened at Letitia’s state, for Lady Morgan was one of her dearest friends. Since her marriage to Lord Morgan, they had seen little of each other, as Letitia naturally spent most of her time at her husband's remote Welsh estates far from the Cotswolds. They had met as young women, newly out, in their first Season. Isobel's dark coloring and vivacity had contrasted with and complemented Letitia's fairness and air of celestial calm, and the two were soon nicknamed Snow White and Rose Red by their admiring gallants. The two young women had discovered there was a deep understanding between themselves as well, with Letitia admiring Isobel's courage and daring, and Isobel appreciating Letitia's quiet sureness.
They cherished their friendship and spent as much time together as could be snatched between balls and morning visits and rides in the park. But whereas Isobel had found no man to touch her heart that first Season, Letitia had quickly become engaged to young Alfred Winwood, Baron Morgan. He was a gentleman of the ton, owner of pleasant estates, and possessor of a great charm of manner. He had quite swept Letitia off her feet, and she had been desperately in love. Isobel, while regretting the loss of her friend, had approved of her choice; Lord Morgan seemed to be a man who would make an excellent husband. Society had embraced the match; Letitia was the only child of a wealthy baronet, who, although his estates were entailed on a male heir, had left his young daughter a healthy fortune. This money, added to the Morgan name and estates, was most suitable.
Isobel had attended the wedding breakfast, but since that time communication with Letitia had been uneven. Isobel wrote her friend long, chatty letters, detailing both her social activities and her more scholarly pursuits, for Letitia was one of the few who knew of Isobel's passion for antiquity. At first Letitia had responded in kind, but after the birth of her son the letters were shorter and less detailed. Isobel had put this down to her friend's preoccupation with motherhood, but of late the letters had almost lapsed all together, leaving Isobel puzzled and a trifle worried.
Isobel produced a lace kerchief and attempted to wipe Letitia's tears. "Come, my dear, do not weep so," she said. "Surely I can help you with whatever is wrong. Is Alfred well?"
This question produced a further bout of weeping, and Isobel was almost relieved when Haggock reappeared in the door carrying a heavy tray with tea and cakes. Isobel indicated that he should place it on the table, and with an anxious look at her friend, sent him away to fetch some ratafia. She tried again to staunch the flow of Letitia's tears.
"Letitia, I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is the matter," she said.
Letitia drew a deep breath and wiped her eyes, trying to hold back her tears. "I am sorry, Isobel," she said softly. "I do not mean to burden you, but I could think of no one else to turn to."
"I am very glad you have come to me," said Isobel stoutly. "But you must stop crying and tell me what is wrong."
Letitia gave a mournful little laugh. "Dear Isobel," she said. "Always so practical. I knew I could trust you to be sensible."
Haggock returned with the wine and a rosy‑cheeked maid, who looked at the two ladies in surprise.
Isobel stood up hastily, attempting to shield Letitia from their view. "Thank you, Haggock," she said. "Daisy, please come take charge of Lady Morgan's children. Her son's name is James, and the baby is Emily. I am sure they are hungry and tired after the journey. Take them to the kitchen and feed them and then put them down to rest. Lady Morgan will be staying here for some time and you will be the nursery maid."
"Yes, miss," said Daisy, looking pleased at this sudden elevation in her status. Sally, the other lower housemaid, would be jealous. She swept up the baby and offered James her free hand; he took it after a questioning look at his mother, who nodded and smiled at him.
"Go with her, Jamie," she said. "No one will hurt you here."
Daisy and the children left, and Isobel dismissed Haggock with a nod. "Now my dear, tell me what brings you here," she said, pouring tea but keeping the ratafia close at hand.
Letitia accepted the tea and sipped it thirstily. "Oh Isobel, I am sorry to impose on you."
"Nonsense," said Isobel. "Only tell me how I may be of service to you."
Letitia put down her teacup and looked pensive. "I hardly know where to start," she said. "I have made such a mess of things."
"I am sure that this is not your fault," said Isobel. "Is something wrong with Alfred?"
Letitia smiled wanly. "You might say so. Oh Isobel, I was so deceived in him! He seemed so gracious and loving when he was courting me; I had no idea that he would change so after we were wed."
Isobel stared at her in amazement. "Alfred has changed? How so?" she demanded.
Letitia bit her lip. "He drinks too much," she said. "All he seems to care about is hunting and carousing with his friends."
"That is frightful of him," agreed Isobel. "But surely drinking and hunting are the pursuits of many gentlemen?"
"Yes," said Letitia. "But he no longer seems to have any interest in me or our children. He speaks to me only to accuse me of interfering with his pastimes and he never shows me any kindness. And he has gambled away almost all our money. My fortune is gone and his estates are heavily encumbered; indeed, though I did not know it, he had already lost all his own money when we wed. We can barely pay the interest on his debts."
"But Alfred never was a gambler when I knew him," said Isobel.
"He is many things he did not seem to be," said Letitia wretchedly. "He is keeping a mistress as well."
Isobel drew in her breath. "How do you know?" she asked. She knew many fashionable men had a mistress, but they were usually discreet about it.
Letitia sobbed. "Because he brings her to the house," she said. "And he tells me he will bring her there to live if I do not leave him alone!"
Isobel was aghast. For a gentleman to treat his wife so was a breach of every level of the social code. Letitia deserved to be well treated in her own home.
"And so you came to me when he said this?" she asked.
"No," said Letitia. "I tried to keep my pride about me and act as if I did not know what he was about. But when he boxed little Jamie's ears so hard that he could not hear for three days merely for spilling a glass of milk, I could not help chastising him for being a poor father. And then he struck me."
Isobel gasped. "He hit you?" she said. "How dare he? Are you injured?"
Letitia rubbed her shoulder and shook her head. "Nothing that will not heal quickly, but it frightened me badly. He was very drunk. The next morning when he was ill I begged permission to visit you, and he told me to go and be damned. I left before he could change his mind and came straight to you; I could think
of no one else who might help me."
"But, surely your family will aid you?" said Isobel.
"My father is dead, and my cousin the new Baron has no interest in my problems. A wife has no legal right to her own money or home; all is her husband's. Alfred has control over me and all that is mine, and my cousin feels that is right."
Isobel stared at her blankly. "Surely you have some recourse," she said.
"None," said Letitia. "I cannot leave him, or I will be parted from the children. The law says they are his, not mine, and if I separate from Alfred I must leave Jamie and Emily with him. I cannot bear to leave my darlings in his care, so I must stay to protect them."
Isobel gazed at her in horror. The things Letitia was saying were not unknown to her; she had a considerable knowledge of the rights of women in English society, and had long decried the restrictions that were placed upon wives. But never before had she been directly confronted by the evils of the law; her own family was composed mostly of contented marriages, and those that were not happy were at least civil, with the husband and wife coming to some sort of understanding. Now, a person who was inexpressibly dear to her was being forced to choose between the loss of her own dignity and safety or the loss of her children.
Isobel poured herself a glass of ratafia and downed it rapidly. "I will speak to my lawyer when I get to town," she said firmly. "There must be something that can be done for you."
Letitia shook her head mournfully. "I have no legal recourse, I believe," she said.
"We will try," said Isobel firmly. "I go to town soon, and you shall come with me. Until then you shall rest here and try to forget what Alfred has become. It will be wonderful to spend time with you again."
"You are a great comfort to me," said Letitia. "And yet I fear that there is nothing even one as strong minded as you can do. But I thank you for your hospitality; I do not want to be a burden to you, but I have nowhere else to turn."
"I am glad you came to me," said Isobel. "I shall do my best to aid you. But now you must be exhausted. You will lie down in a warm room by a fire for some hours and then perhaps you will feel stronger."
Isobel took Letitia to her room, and with Harriet's aid settled her abed with a shawl about her shoulders and a fire roaring in the grate. She returned to the sitting room and sat gazing out the window, pondering her friend's perilous situation and despairing over what could be done.
The fine morning had given way to grey skies and rain as Isobel sat pondering Letitia's difficulties. The door clicked open and Isobel started as Lord Francis entered the room. She regarded him with a jaundiced eye. Her brooding over Letitia's troubles had done nothing to improve her opinion of gentlemen of fashion, and Lord Francis was looking particularly sleek and well-groomed. He sported a well-tailored coat, and his sling merely added an aura of dashing recklessness to his appearance.
Isobel responded to his elegant bow by nodding unsmilingly, and returned to gazing out of the window. Lord Francis' eyebrows shot up, but he only lounged over to a chair and seated himself.
"Did I see a travelling carriage pull up?" he inquired. "Were you expecting visitors?"
"My friend, Lady Morgan, is visiting for some days," said Isobel shortly. "I am afraid that I neglected to inform you that she would be joining us."
"You are under no obligation to fit your schedule to mine," observed Lord Francis. "I am sure Lady Morgan is entirely charming, but I must say that I regret the presence of anyone who removes your attention from me."
This gallant sally produced nothing but a frown from Isobel, and Lord Francis attempted to cheer her with more conversation. "I myself am acquainted with Lord Morgan, though it has been some time since I have seen him," he observed. "A bruising rider to hounds, and a good whip besides."
"Two most admirable qualities," rejoined Isobel tartly.. It was typical of men, she thought, that they should consider the way another man treated a horse to be of much greater importance than how he treated a wife.
Silence reigned again. Lord Francis valiantly attempted another topic of conversation.
"This endless rain grows tedious," he complained. "I vow the country at this time of year is unbearable, yet London is so thin of company that one cannot really contemplate removing there either. 'T'is a mercy that Strancaster Park is such a huge pile that my mother will invite half her acquaintance for Easter and we shall none of us have to go out of doors to be amused."
Isobel glanced at him coldly. "I have always found that where there are good spirits, good intentions and worthwhile pursuits a little gloomy weather is of no account. It is only where a lack of character, education or occupation are found that such things can weigh upon one," she announced.
Lord Francis smiled sleepily at her. "You sound precisely like my mother when she is in a priggish mood. But then, weeks of bad spring weather overset her temper too, and the work that she has to keep everything in order when there are hordes of visitors at Strancaster is beyond anything." He paused. "Perhaps you and Miss Harriet would find it amusing to break your journey to town with a stop at Strancaster over Easter. I am sure that you would be very welcome to bring Lady Morgan as well. Your presence would add greatly to our party," he continued casually.
Isobel glared at him, attempting to suppress her fury. "I will be entirely too busy preparing Kitswold House for my absence and dealing with my agent to consider taking time for entertainment," she said stiffly. "But I appreciate the invitation and hope that you will remember me kindly to the Duke and Duchess."
"What a pity that you have not a better trained staff," Lord Francis replied, his temper finally pricked by her distant response. "It is a shame to be giving up a visit to friends because one must supervise error-prone servants."
As Isobel's staff was exceedingly well trained, and would have been shocked at her impugning their readiness for any situation, Lord Francis' deliberately provocative remark infuriated her still further. Here sat a man who not only was acquainted with the despicable Lord Morgan, but who was apparently willing to encourage the gossip that was likely to result from a visit by Isobel to Strancaster at his invitation.
"I really must make sure that Lady Morgan's children are settled," she said stiffly and stalked out of the room, leaving Lord Francis to stare after her in amazement, little aware of how close he had come to having some violence done to him as a proxy for Lord Morgan.
Isobel flounced to her library, where she proceeded to work out her rage and frustration in front of the impassive walls of leather-bound books by marching up and down, her thoughts in a jumble of confusion. Lord Francis' invitation to Strancaster had taken Isobel by surprise. Perhaps Harriet's absurd conjectures about the potential seriousness of his intentions were not so misguided. She almost could have imagined a life with the personable Lord Francis, she reflected, but now Letitia's plight intruded on these rosy reflections.
That Lord Morgan could have used her friend so cruelly appalled her, and the deceit that hid his true character behind an amiable and charming facade frightened her. Letitia's Alfred had seemed to be quite as pleasant, trustworthy, and kind as Lord Francis appeared now. And just as attractive, her heart whispered to her, though Lord Morgan's Byronic dark handsomeness had not been of the type that particularly moved Isobel. But danger obviously lay in trusting the heart over the head, or even trusting the heart at all. Her anger built to a fine rage, until she could envision Lord Francis and Lord Morgan carousing together, gambling away thousands of pounds and chasing after light skirts while deep in their cups. Clearly, she decided, Lord Francis was not to be encouraged in his attentions. The Honorable Isobel Paley had too much to lose.
Chapter 8
Over the next se'ennight, in the calming atmosphere of Kitswold and under Harriet and Isobel's solicitous care, Letitia grew less nervous and depressed, the strain leaving her face and color returning to her cheeks. Jamie thrived in the relaxed atmosphere, terrorizing the gardeners and charming the cook, who provided him with a constant stream of
delicacies, and even little Emily, though just a babe, laughed more than she had previously. Lord Francis also mended apace, and while his plaintive requests to be allowed to travel continued, they seemed to be more from habit rather than intention, and his attentions to Isobel remained marked. He found the lady to be pleasant, without a repeat of her anger with him as on the day of Lady Morgan's arrival, but elusive. She laughed and talked with him with ease, but he found no opportunity to be alone with her. Finally, Dr. Alvey pronounced Lord Francis fit to travel, and a carriage arrived from Strancaster for his journey, planned for late the next morning.
The day dawned fair for travel with sunshine and mild breezes. Isobel knew that Harriet and Letitia would be up early to say farewell to Lord Francis, so she could be assured of a well-chaperoned breakfast with him and the opportunity to say her goodbyes in an easy atmosphere. Some notion, she could not be sure what, made her don one of her most becoming morning gowns, and she came downstairs well ahead of the appointed hour for her guest’s departure. Harriet was already in the breakfast room, making a hearty meal of buttered eggs and toast, while Letitia nibbled on fruit. Of Lord Francis there was no sign, but when he appeared, dashing in his riding coat, buckskin breeches that appeared to have been molded to his thighs, and boots that shone to London standards, Isobel felt a tiny blush begin to rise in her cheeks. Her own missishness annoyed her, but there was no denying her response to his presence, and she looked away, fiercely quashing her feelings.
"How sad to think that you are departing," said Harriet, shaking her head dolefully. "I had hoped that you might stay some days longer, as I have heard tales of the perils of traveling before one is truly healed, and Isobel and I would be so happy to have you stay. Perhaps you could travel as far as Strancaster with us when we leave for London—after all, it would be very pleasant to have the company of a gentleman, and I daresay it would be safer as well. I shudder when I think of what could happen to women alone on the long trip to London; my aunt, Susanna Hennings--"
A Lady of Passion: Isobel's After Dark Regency Romance Page 6
