A Lady of Passion: Isobel's After Dark Regency Romance

by Alicia Quigley

  “It does seem very irregular, Francis. Surely all of her servants cannot have left Letty at such a distressing time.” Isobel Wheaton, Viscountess Exencour, looked worriedly at her spouse and bit her lip. She was just opening her mouth to request that gentleman to open the door himself, when the sound of the latch lifting could be heard, and an ancient and very decrepit servant appeared. He looked inquiringly at the visitors.

  “Lord and Lady Exencour,” the gentleman said, entering the hall. He handed his hat and coat to the servant, and turned to help his wife remove her muff and cape.

  “Where is Lady Morgan, please?” asked the lady, somewhat anxiously.

  “Her ladyship’ll be in the drawing room where his lordship is laid out,” the old servitor responded.

  ”Well, show us there, man,” said his lordship somewhat impatiently. “Lady Exencour and I have made a long journey and have no wish to wait any longer to see her. Also, see to lodging for my coachman and provide some ale and food to the postilions so they can return the job horses to the Sun and Swan in Chester.”

  Lord and Lady Exencour followed the butler across the hall to the drawing room, where he opened the door and announced them in suitably dolorous tones.

  The drawing room had the air of a place where only money was wanting. It was spotlessly neat and clean, and the wood of the furniture shone impeccably, but light spaces could be seen on the wallpaper where pictures had once hung, and a close examination showed that the curtains, while clean, well-pressed and made of fine damask, were old-fashioned and growing somewhat threadbare. Toward the end of the room, there was a bier, with candles burning at either end of a coffin. It was draped in black fabric, and floral tributes were heaped about it. On a settee a young and very beautiful lady sat wearing widows weeds and a black veil, with two small children at her side. Several visitors were ranged around, talking in hushed tones.

  At the sound of their names the widow leaped to her feet and came forward. Lady Exencour fairly ran to her, clasping her in a warm embrace.

  “Oh my dear, we came as soon as we received your letter. What a shock it must have been to you.”

  “Isobel, you cannot possibly imagine how glad I am that you are here,” whispered the lady in black. “Alfred’s affairs were in such a tangle, that I cannot think what to do. There is no one I can turn to and the creditors are dunning me, even now, before his body is laid to rest. But we must not speak of it for,” she said, raising her voice, “here are Squire Musgrove and his lady, and the Johnstones come to visit me. Let me make them known to you.”

  Letitia, Lady Morgan, drew Lord and Lady Exencour forward and made the introductions. For some little time the conversation was confined to those subjects usually deemed appropriate on such occasions, until at last the visitors left. The children’s nurse was summoned and the little boy and girl returned to the nursery, their immature countenances reflecting all the fear and confusion that a death in a family produces.

  “Letty, I hardly know what to say to you,” Isobel began. “I cannot say that I am sorry for Alfred’s death, and it can only be most improper to say that you are well off without him.”

  “Oh, Isobel, your candor is so welcome,” said Letty, hovering between laughter and tears. “I have sat here for the past two days while the county came to offer condolences, and I have not spoken a true word in the whole time.”

  “Well, you shall tell me the whole story, and tell it frankly, for here are no censorious ears, only friendship and compassion. How came Alfred to break his neck in a hunting accident? I had thought he was still on the Continent,” Isobel said.

  “He returned very suddenly. I fancy that there must have been some contretemps in Spain, which is where he had been staying for the past three months. Some woman, or gambling debt, no doubt,” said Lady Morgan bitterly. “In any event, Alfred appeared here just in time to banish all cheer, and has done little but roister about the neighborhood and hunt ever since. A fatal accident befell him three days since, when his hunter stopped at a stone wall, and Alfred was pitched over it. The ground lay downhill, magnifying the effect of the fall, and his neck was broken.”

  Isobel was silent after Letitia recounted these events, only taking her friend’s hands in her own and holding them tightly.

  “He should have waited for his horse,” drawled Lord Exencour unsympathetically, gazing at the coffin through his quizzing glass. “It’s much more difficult to come to grief when one is on top of one’s mount. But then I make no doubt that at the time that this mishap occurred Lord Morgan was in no condition to ascertain his exact relationship to his horse.”

  Isobel shook her head at this disrespect for the departed, but made no reproof, for no one in the room had any reason to think well of the late Lord Morgan.

  “Ah, I hesitate to distress you further, dear Lady Morgan, but you mentioned the duns, some moments past,” murmured Lord Exencour in a gentle tone, which was greatly at variance with the cynical accents he had employed in remarking on the circumstances of Lord Morgan’s demise. “If it is not too trying for you, perhaps you had best reveal the situation to me, and I will contact your man of business and attempt to assist you in settling matters.”

  Letitia frowned. “Alfred’s first action on returning home was to declare that the bailiff had been cheating him of the estate’s revenue in his absence, and he dismissed him and put him out of his house on those grounds. It was shocking, for Grieves has been here quite twenty years, I am sure. I hope that he remains in the neighborhood, but he may have gone to his sister in Bristol, which will make it more difficult to find him. As for our solicitor, Mr. Linkwall, he is in Chester, and I have sent for him. I hope that he will be here by tomorrow. But the situation is really most alarming; I have no notion of the extent of Alfred’s debts, but there have been a number of individuals who have called today who are apparently money lenders, and I do not know what type of security Alfred may have given them, but I greatly fear—“

  “Lay your fears to rest for now, Lady Morgan,” interrupted his lordship in a soothing tone. “I will engage to seek out Grieves and will meet with Linkwall when he arrives tomorrow. I expect that he will wish to read the will, but surely that must wait until after the funeral.”

  “Oh yes, that takes place in the morning tomorrow, and I expect that we will hear the will read that afternoon,” Letty replied.

  “Very well then. You and Isobel are to enjoy a comfortable coze. I will undertake inquiries as to Grieves’ location, and at tea time, we will discuss what is next to be done.” Exencour bowed elegantly over Lady Morgan’s hand, and, with a warm smile at his wife, left the room.

  Letitia, who had borne up under the many strains of the preceding six weeks, proceeded to burst into tears. Isobel held her hand and patted her back soothingly, waiting for the storm to pass. At length, Letty’s sobs grew softer, and she sniffed audibly, searching for her handkerchief. Isobel withdrew a serviceable white linen square from her reticule and handed it to her with a smile.

  “A widow without a handkerchief, my dear? It will not do. The county will surely surmise how little real grief you feel about Alfred’s demise.”

  Letty smiled through her tears. “You are quite correct, it is not Alfred I weep for; it is a mere irritation of the nerves, I believe.”

  “One can hardly call Alfred a ‘mere’ irritation, Letty,” responded Isobel with asperity. “What happened when he returned?”

  “Oh, it was really rather dreadful, Isobel. He burst in here quite drunk one afternoon last month, and announced that he had grown weary of the Continent and intended to take up residence here at Morgan Park once more. The children were very much confused of course, for Emily did not know who he was, and even little Jamie’s memories of his father had grown quite dim after an absence of two and a half years.”

  “Letty, why did you not let me know?” asked Isobel. “Francis would have been only too glad to run him off as he did before.”

  Letty shrugged. “I do not l
ike to trouble you, and I thought perhaps he might have learned his lesson, or would soon leave again. I think he must have won a rather large sum of money at play before returning, for he arrived with several horses and a new carriage, and all of his clothing is likewise new. He joined the hunt and had been behaving just as always. So much so, that of course it came to all ears and a fortnight ago, I was very much mortified when Lady Pennibont visited and hinted in the most odious way that Lord Pennibont had been very much shocked to have seen Alfred in the company of a rather questionable lady. Indeed, I am sure he did, but did she never wonder exactly what Lord Pennibont had been engaged upon that he happened to encounter Alfred in such a situation?” Letty asked in a vexed tone.

  “Well Letty, it is all very bad. But if Alfred has won a large sum at play, perhaps he did not have a chance to waste it all before his untimely death, and it may alleviate your circumstances,” said Isobel hopefully.

  "It would have to be a vast sum of money to do that," said Letitia wanly. "But I suppose anything at all would be a help. “I hope Grieves is found quickly; it is a very raw day for Exencour to be on such an errand for me. I am so grateful to you both, Isobel."

  "‘Tis little enough among friends, Letty. After the will is read, and the financial matters untangled we must study what is to be done, and how we can be of real service to you."

  Letty shook her head smilingly, and was about to answer, when her aged butler entered. "Lord Bainstall has arrived, my lady," he announced.

  Letty's sweet expression instantly changed to one of vexation. "My cousin. Well, to be sure, good manners almost require his presence, but I wish he had not come."

  “I can only echo that sentiment,” said Isobel. “I’m sure your cousin is the most tedious man alive, and I’ve never had to endure his company. The correspondence he sent you when you stayed with me in London was enough to give me the vapors!”

  Letty smiled despite herself. “Perhaps it is not his fault; his mother doted on him excessively, and he was accustomed to being the center of her worries and concerns. When my parents died so suddenly and he inherited the estate, it only increased his notion of his importance.”

  “For some reason people with no more than average understanding always seem to feel they know best how to order the affairs of others,” observed Isobel. “I feel for you, my dear.”

  Letty turned to the butler. "Very well, Banning. Please inform Lord Bainstall that Lady Exencour and I will join him in the drawing room shortly," she said.

  "Letty, you must not allow him to bully you," Isobel urged her earnestly. "Remember that one of the chief advantages of being a widow is the right to do as you please, without the censure of the world."

  "‘Tis the censure of Lord Bainstall, which concerns me rather," replied Letty drily. "My cousin, I believe, considers his own views of such matters to be of greater significance than those of the world at large, being possessed as he is a vast belief in his own opinion.”

  Isobel looked surprised to hear the gentle Letitia so waspish, but said nothing. The ladies proceeded to the drawing room, where his lordship waited. He was a middle-aged man, with a stout, unhealthy air about him. His pallid countenance and flaccid frame were those of one who might be an excellent trencherman, but clearly pursued little vigorous exercise. He had a rather petulant expression, not assisted by small, weak eyes, which he blinked rapidly. Isobel was a bit taken aback by his unprepossessing appearance.

  Bainstall was looking mournful, and he gestured towards the bier. “A very bad business this," he said. "The thought that a man so young could be struck down in the flower of his youth, must make each of us recall that at any time we could be called upon to give an account of our actions in this world, and that we should be prepared to justify ourselves to our Creator.”

  Letty looked rather nonplussed at his moralizing, but replied quietly. “Quite so, Lord Bainstall. I believe that you are not acquainted with my friend Lady Exencour. Allow me to introduce you to her.”

  Isobel summoned up a vision of her grandmother, who had been a very grand dame indeed, and favored the baron with a frosty smile, a slight nod of her head and offered his lordship two fingers to shake. Letty turned her head aside to hide a smile, and then invited them to sit.

  Bainstall seated himself heavily. “I came as soon as I heard, cousin," he said. "I fancy you must find yourself very much in want of my advice.”

  Letty did not know how to answer him politely, so she remained silent and tried to avoid looking her skepticism. Isobel took up cudgels on her behalf, however.

  “I think that Letty suffers from no shortage of friendly advice from those who have her interests at heart,” she said.

  “Indeed not,” replied Bainstall in a displeased tone. “But who can better ascertain those interests than the head of her family?” he inquired rhetorically.

  “Perhaps Lady Morgan’s opinion might be solicited first,” answered Isobel sweetly.

  Letty had to smile at this exchange. “Cousin, your kindness in wishing to assist me in this difficult time is appreciated,” she said placatingly. “However, Lady Exencour too has my welfare in mind.”

  Unfortunately, Lord Bainstall chose to ignore this invitation to cease hostilities and looked closely at Isobel. “Ah, you are the former Miss Paley, are you not, Lady Exencour?” he asked.

  Isobel merely nodded and smiled in reply. Undeterred, Bainstall pressed on.

  “Letitia, I must tell you that I do not think that Lady Exencour is one in whom you may place your confidence. She led you very much astray last year when you visited her in London, and you should not place your trust in her now. Although you came to your senses and returned to your home, Lady Exencour’s influence on your actions I can only describe as ill-advised.”

  There was silence after this speech as both ladies were so much angered by it as to be temporarily rendered tongue-tied. Bainstall, fancying himself to have had the last word on the matter smiled at Letitia. “You must allow yourself to be guided by me, cousin, and we shall see you respectably settled.”

  The door had opened silently during this last speech by the baron and Lord Exencour had entered undetected. He now stood with a gleeful smile on his handsome face, watching his wife draw breath to embark upon a blistering retort. Electing at the last moment to cast water rather than oil upon the flames of her wrath, he cleared his throat and stepped forward.

  “Ah, you must be Bainstall, Lady Morgan’s cousin. I am Exencour. Lady Morgan has undoubtedly already introduced you to my wife.” Francis smiled easily and extended his hand to Bainstall. He then turned to Letitia, effectively cutting off any comment her cousin might wish to make.

  “Lady Morgan, you will be happy, I believe, to hear that my search has prospered and I have been able to locate your bailiff. You are fortunate; he had purchased a passage to America, and was waiting to take ship in three days’ time, although I fancy he would have called upon you first in any event. He seems to be an estimable fellow. I have invited him on your behalf to return to Morgan Park, which he does with great willingness. He will wait upon you in an hour's time.”

  Letty was delighted to have Grieves restored to her and opened her mouth to thank Exencour when she was interrupted by Lord Bainstall.

  “If I am to meet with your bailiff soon, cousin, perhaps you could have me shown to my room so that I may change my clothing from this travelling garb.”

  The other three looked surprised, but unanimously chose to leave the baron to enjoy his ignorance. The bell was rung and soon Bainstall was being shown to the green bedchamber.

  “Oh dear,” said Letty as the door closed behind him.

  “What a pompous bore,” Isobel burst out. “Letty, he is twice as bad in person as he was in that dreadful letter he sent you.”

  “Yes, I fear that it will be very difficult to avoid offending him deeply, Isobel, for he plainly feels it his duty to take my affairs in hand, and indeed, I do not wish him to do so.”

  “It is
a shame that Morgan Park is not a huge pile like Strancaster,” said Exencour with a glinting smile. “When my mother wishes to avoid an annoying guest, she has only to place him in a distant chamber, where the bell most mysteriously refuses to function. Unable to summon a servant to show him back to the family rooms, the poor wretch may wander about for days, even risking starvation, in search of the remainder of the party.”

  “Alas, Morgan Park is too small to perplex even my cousin for more than a minute or two,” answered Letty. “We shall have to resort to plain speaking it seems.”

  “Well, Letty, it is best to begin as you mean to go on," said Isobel. "And if you are to manage for yourself now, Lord Bainstall will have to be put in his place. Not but that I doubt he will know it when that happens. He seems remarkably thick-witted to me."

  Chapter 2

  The Marquess of Eynsford viewed the assembly at Almack’s with a jaundiced eye. The rooms overflowed with the cream of the ton; while Almack’s did not have the most spacious rooms or the finest refreshments, it was still a venue in which any person wishing to be accepted by Society must appear. Fresh-faced young women, newly out, were escorted by their ambitious mothers, while eligible gentlemen eyed the scene languidly.

  “Don’t look so stern, Phillip,” said the dowager marchioness of Eynsford. “People will think that you don’t wish to be here.”

  The marquess turned to his mother and smiled slightly. “They would be perfectly correct, a fact of which you are well aware.”

  “If you don’t care about the future of the Eynsford estate, I do,” his mother replied stoutly. “You have been knocking about the Continent for years now, and one would think you would be ready to settle down. You are the last of my sons, and I wish the title to remain with your progeny, not those of your uncle.”

  “I would hardly call fighting the French and negotiating with Metternich ‘knocking about,’” the marquess said plaintively. “And one scion of the Eynsford line is much like another, I would imagine.”