Tom watched Isabelle as they travelled. She was deep in her thoughts and did not notice his scrutiny. He did feel pangs of guilt at allowing her to come along. He had only agreed to the scheme for selfish reasons. He wanted her with him. For her there could be a higher cost. He was putting her reputation in danger for the second time in two days, but he did not want to consider the thought of the journey without her. For the first time in his life he needed the strength of someone to help him get through the situation he was faced with and there was no-one else he would prefer to be at his side than Isabelle. He chose to push to the back of his mind the niggling thoughts that he had been wrong in pushing her away if he wanted her support. If they married he would always have her near him.
Isabelle finally shook herself out of her deep contemplation and turned to him smiling, “We had better think of a story to present to the inns we stop at along the way.”
“We could be brother and sister?” offered Tom.
“Maybe, but we don’t look anything alike. What about cousins?”
“Everyone is going to think we are making a dash for the border whatever story we tell them,” Tom shrugged not in any mood to indulge curious innkeepers.
“Well we are, just not in the way they’d expect,” Isabelle smiled slightly. She understood the dark mood, but she could not allow it to develop or it would feel an even longer journey.
“We could always be a married couple,” Tom said quietly.
“Pardon?” Isabelle could not help the flush that spread over her face.
“If we seem like a normal married couple, if such a thing exists, with a handsome carriage,” he acknowledged with a smile, “we would raise less interest than if we tried to pretend to be cousins. Keeping it simple is probably the easiest way.”
“And being a married couple is keeping it simple?” Isabelle could not help laughing at the irony of being forced to act as a married couple to the only man she would ever consider marrying, but who had rejected her.
“Yes, we are travelling to family in the North, we married last year and live in Kent. Nothing special, the type of people who blend into the background.”
“Why can’t we live in Hampshire?” Isabelle teased, determined not to dwell on the emotions the thought of even pretending to be married to Tom stirred.
Tom laughed for the first time that day. “We are living in Kent! It’s where my family home is and is a beautiful part of the world thank you!”
Isabelle smiled and arched an eyebrow, “Yes my dear, whatever you say my dear.”
“That’s what I prefer, a meek wife,” he grinned in return.
“Don’t ever really marry me then or you will be very disappointed.” Isabelle said lightly enough, but she felt an emptiness in her chest as she said the words. To make her discomfort worse she decided she needed to clear another matter up sooner, rather than later. “What about sleeping arrangements if we are supposed to be married?” She blushed at her words, but she would be more embarrassed if faced with a situation at an inn.
“Separate rooms of course, like every other couple,” Tom reassured her with a slight sneer.
“Like every other couple other than my parents,” Isabelle said, ignoring the sneer.
“They shared the same room? All the time?” Tom asked immediately curious. This was something that his parents had never entertained. His mother could not have led the life she had if she had been forced to accept different sleeping arrangements.
“Apparently so. Theirs was a true love match and James said that they used to say that they did not want to spend a moment apart that was not necessary, so they had one suite of rooms. Father would go into his chamber when he was being dressed and undressed only. I’ve always thought it must be a lovely way to live,” Isabelle replied.
“I suppose so, I’ve never come across it before, so it’s a completely new concept to me, but I could see the advantages.” Tom made it sound as if he was talking of sleeping arrangements, but he was referring to his mother. If she had shared a room with his father, she would have been prevented from so many male visitors to her chamber. The thought of it made him shudder and he tried to focus on Isabelle instead of the painful memories of the steady stream of visitors to his mother that had taken on a whole new meaning after the fateful day of walking into her bedchamber.
Isabelle blushed slightly at his inference. “Well I am relieved in this instance that my new husband is more traditional.”
“I aim to please madam.”
Tom took off his glove and removed a small signet ring from his little finger. He handed it to Isabelle.
“What is this?” she asked taking the ring.
“It’s your wedding band. If you turn it round the thinner part will be on the outside of your finger and should just about pass. I wouldn’t want anyone to see you without a ring on your finger if you go without gloves,” he explained.
Isabelle tried the ring on. It was too big, but if she held her fingers together it did not look out of place and would pass as a wedding band. She put her glove back on and tried to get used to the feeling of having Tom’s ring on her finger, it was still warm from the heat of his hand and the feeling stirred her insides.
“You’d better start using my given name too,” he suggested. “If you use it from now on there should be no mistakes. Do you object to me using Isabelle?”
“I don’t see why not,” Isabelle answered, liking the sound of her name on his lips. “We are going to be close friends by the end of the journey, so I don’t think it would be too inappropriate to use our given names in this situation.” In her mind, he had always been Tom, so it should not be too hard using it.
“You may wish to throw me out of the carriage by the end of the journey,” Tom teased.
“Probably,” came the soft reply.
*
The first inn they stopped at was always going to be a trial for Isabelle. She hoped that her heightened colour would not be noticed as a sign of guilt, but the innkeeper was more concerned in providing for his obviously wealthy customers to notice Isabelle’s slight hesitance. They were taken to their rooms and the Earl hired a small parlour for them to eat in. Isabelle took off her outdoor clothes in her room and freshened up using the bowl of water placed on the side table. The room was plainly furnished, but clean. She had heard horror stories about inns up and down the country and was glad that this looked well kept. She joined the Earl in the parlour as the food was being laid out.
“Ah, Isabelle my love, just in time to eat,” Tom smiled at her as she entered. He saw the look she gave him when he uttered the greeting and the feelings of guilt returned for the hundredth time that day. She looked as if he had driven a knife into her when he had called her ‘my love’. He was in no doubt that she had feelings for him and he questioned whether he had been fair in bringing her. He could offer her nothing.
“Thank you my dear,” Isabelle replied, friendly enough. But it had taken her a moment to recollect herself when she had been addressed in such a way. It had given her pleasure to hear her name on his lips, but to be called ‘my love’ when she knew he did not mean it hurt her more than she would have expected it to. It was probably because the events of the ball were still fresh in her mind. She would need to cope in a better manner. This longing for something that she could not have was not healthy.
They sat and ate in silence at first, but Isabelle broke the quiet. “Do you think we shall catch them?”
“Yes,” came the firm reply. “Sophie said that they were to travel well, but they will be hiring carriages; I know Arnold did not have his own. That means they are relying on the quality of hired vehicles, which isn’t always consistent. Also, Jackson is a better driver than anyone they will hire, so each day we will gain on them. Hopefully enough.” He added a little uncertainty entering his voice.
The rest of the meal was spent quietly. They spoke, but both were worried in their own ways and the banter they were used to exchange was not forthcoming. T
hey decided to retire early to enable them to have a restful night.
The following morning, they set off very early. They were the first people to stir apart from staff and the air seemed very chilly as they climbed into the carriage. Isabelle covered herself with a rug, it was a comfortable carriage, but even the best was chilly on such a morning. They set off at their usual high speed.
“How long will it take us?” Isabelle asked as the countryside once again started to pass them at a rapid rate.
“It’s a little under three hundred miles, so normally I would say it would take around six days, but with the speed we are travelling and the short stops, I am hoping that it will take no more than four. Hopefully we will pass them in less than that. Are you sick of travelling already?” He asked with a smile. Isabelle had not complained about anything so far, she was proving to be the perfect companion on such a journey.
“No, not at all! I have had such a sheltered life that really any journey has to provide some interest. I am just curious,” Isabelle replied.
“Have you never travelled so far North before?”
“I’ve never travelled so far before! I am ashamed to say my existence has been between Hampshire, London and Bath. There is a little line on a map that shows my carriage travelling that route and no other,” Isabelle admitted shamefacedly.
“Many people don’t travel too far. Men are more fortunate I think in that respect. We go on our Grand Tour. I was on mine around six years ago. I had delayed it slightly because of Sophie.”
“Ah, so you were exploring exotic places when I was having my first season in London. I must say it was very rude that you did not come and pay your respects, leaving me to the fortune hunters of that particular season!” Isabelle teased.
“Yes it would appear I was busy enjoying myself on the continent. By the time I had returned you had tired of London society, condemned us all and moved to Bath!”
“I must say that I don’t really understand why Gretna Green is so popular,” Isabelle said changing the subject from herself.
“Why?” came the curious response.
“Well six days isn’t exactly a dash to the border is it? It’s more like a long and arduous journey. I’m not sure I could maintain my calm for six days if I knew my family were chasing me.”
Tom laughed. “It’s fortunate that your family are far more welcoming than most others and you will never need to consider such a journey.”
They settled back in companionable silence. Tom appreciated that Isabelle did not need entertaining while they travelled, she seemed to know when he was willing to talk and sensed when he wanted time to think. She would watch out of the window, although what she saw of the country was actually very little as it did seem to go past in a blur. Tom had spoken the truth when he had said how fast Jackson would be travelling. Isabelle hoped the carriage could stand such relentless usage.
At the second horse change Tom suggested that they get out for a quick stretch of legs and a bite to eat. Isabelle welcomed the thought of being able to walk around for a few minutes and prepared to leave the coach when they stopped. As they pulled into the yard the Earl let out an oath. He turned quickly to Isabelle and apologised.
“I’ve just seen an acquaintance of mine. We may be able to get out unseen, but he knows I’m not married, so we can’t be seen together.” Tom moved to the carriage door and went to step out, Isabelle hung back a little until she was given the go ahead.
The moment he stepped onto the ground he heard his name being called. “Standish? Standish? Is that you? By God, I thought it was, how the devil are you old man? What are you doing in this neck of the woods?”
Isabelle groaned - there was no escape for her now. She sat in the furthest corner and then decided that she still might be seen, so curled herself in a ball on the seat and covered herself up with the rug. It was large enough to cover her, but she was not sure what she would look like if anyone looked into the carriage. She had to stifle a giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation, but managed to keep quiet. She lay still trying to hear what was being said, but could only hear the murmur of Tom’s voice, not what he was saying.
It was only a few minutes before the carriage door opened again and she heard the Tom climb in. “Yes, good to see you too. As soon as I get back to London I’ll see you in White’s,” came the voice of the stranger before the door slammed and the carriage started to move off.
Isabelle stayed still for a few more moments, until Tom said, “Hide and seek is over now, it is safe to come out.”
Isabelle emerged, slightly flushed because of the heat caused by hiding under the rug and through laughing. Her hair was a mess and her bonnet was slightly dislodged. “What did you tell him?” She asked as she started to take her bonnet off. “You will have to excuse me, I need to make myself more presentable.”
Tom thought privately that the dishevelled look became her, but refrained from saying anything about her appearance. “The advantage of being known as a grumpy Earl is that when I don’t want to answer questions, I don’t, so I just said it was urgent family business and gave no further details. I’m sorry you did not get your walk.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Isabelle replied. She longed for a walk, but there was no point in dwelling on it. She busied herself with sorting her hair, or trying to without the help of a looking glass. Hat pins had become tangled and the only way of sorting it out was to untie it and start again, not easy in a moving carriage.
Tom watched in fascination as her thick hair was let loose. It fell about her shoulders, slightly wavy. He had to sit on his hands to stop himself from reaching out to touch it. Isabelle deftly gathered it together and put the clips back in place. When she turned to face him with a smile, he finally managed to gain control of himself to answer in a normal tone when she asked if it was presentable. The danger was over for the moment.
Chapter 10
The second night of the journey was more routine, as routine such a situation could be. They both were less reserved with each other and less on edge when they arrived at the inn, giving the outward impression of a comfortable married couple. They ate again in a private parlour, but neither wanted to stay in the parlour after the meal had been eaten. They were both exhausted from a day of non-stop travel and preparing themselves for another early start, so were keen to retire early. Isabelle left the parlour first, wishing Tom a goodnight.
They were again the first people out of the inn and Isabelle wrapped herself in the rug as they set off at speed. “Well this is our third day of travel. How will we know if we are catching up? If it is a hired vehicle we will not know we have caught it, or even if we are passing them on the road.” Isabelle asked as she snuggled under the rug.
“Jackson is telling everyone that we have urgent family business in Carlisle, but is asking if there have been any recent elopers. This is the main North Road, so many will travel along here. He is very good at making himself believable. Apparently he is giving a very good impression of being a very inquisitive driver who likes to gossip about the fools racing for the border. He said there has been no suspicion around us. We are convincing in our roles.”
Isabelle ignored the comment about them being convincing. To dwell on it would only make her long for something that was not going to happen. “Has he found anything out?”
“Nothing definite as yet, but there have been sightings that may turn out to be Sophie. I suppose it depends just how many fools there are on this road at the moment.” Tom almost growled the words out, as he did each time he thought of the actions of his sister.
As they drove Isabelle could not help being curious, especially as they might be getting closer to Sophie. “Have you decided what you are going to say to her if we do find her?” She asked, hoping she was not being too impertinent.
“I haven’t really.” Came the candid reply. “For the first time in my life I don’t really know what to do for the best. I feel like she’s let herself down and let the family
name down, but I’ve let her down too.”
“Why?” Isabelle was shocked at the remorse in his voice.
“It was my job to look after her and yet here she is dashing across the country to avoid facing me. I’ve been so forceful with what she will and won’t do, it’s no wonder she has reacted like this. I have been so determined that neither of us would make the mistakes our parents made that I think I may have almost forced her into a marriage that would have made her into a woman just like my mother was. I keep trying to think what I should have done differently. I probably should have done everything opposite to the way I did. My parents would have not acted the way I have,” he said quietly. It was the first time Isabelle had seen him so unsure and her heart went out to him. She reached across and laid her hand on his arm. When he raised his eyes in question, she squeezed gently.
“Your parents would have had the experience of dealing with you first and they had each other to confide in and offer counsel to each other. You have had none of that, but have been thrown into the role of parent with no real experience. You did what you could by bringing in your aunt. She may not have been the perfect chaperone, but the letter Sophie sent to Miss Arnold was one of goodness. She wanted to help her new family and was sorry for the pain she was causing. She has not done any of this out of spite. It is because she is young and in love and could see no other way,” she reassured him.
“I own some of what you say is correct. At least we were not known by many in Bath. Hopefully any chance of scandal would be reduced.”
Isabelle chose to raise the subject of some of what Mr Ollerton had mentioned, particularly as Tom had made a similar reference to his mother. “I did not realise Mr Ollerton knew your family.”
The Complicated Earl Page 11
