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Authors: Elizabeth Hanbury

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Regency

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BOOK: Ice Angel
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Lady Portland gave a cold smile. ‘Of course,’ she snapped mendaciously. ‘Why do you think he has been so persistent in his attentions? You must admire his determination. Why, he has scarcely left your side this evening – evidence enough for everyone to see that he has succeeded and now he stands to win a great deal of money.’ She studied Isabella’s anguish with dispassion. ‘But I am shocked that you had no inkling of this when most of London knows of it.’

Isabella shook her head in disbelief. ‘I must ask him if this is true.’

‘Don’t expect him to admit to it. In my experience, Lady Vane, gentlemen are rarely truthful and Hal is no exception. Do not take it to heart – it was only dalliance on Hal’s part. He was always going to return to me after winning the wager.’ She shrugged. ‘Now I see that you were indeed unaware of this and are distressed, but it was very stupid of you to care for him, my dear.’

Satisfied that her words had achieved the desired effect, Lady Portland swept away to demand that her carriage be brought immediately to the front door.

A stray tear trickled down Isabella’s face and she brushed it aside impatiently. Bewildered and confused, the only thought that registered was Hal’s betrayal. His professions of love had been empty, meaningless and uttered only in pursuit of winning a disgusting wager. Bitterly, she remembered how he had talked of having no secrets, yet he had used her to win a bet which was the talk of the London clubs.

Isabella recalled his reaction yesterday when he assumed she had had a change of heart. Little wonder he appeared so relieved by her answer when a moment earlier he must have thought winning was in doubt. She was a laughing stock, which was hateful enough when she had craved obscurity, but Hal’s treachery was far worse. While she did not like Lady Portland, twice she had seen their intimacy with her own eyes and now Lady Portland’s cruel words had the ring of truth; Isabella knew that gambling was a pastime which most men indulged in, some to excess.

Once again she had allowed herself to be deceived. This evening Hal had wanted to demonstrate to society that he had succeeded and, like an unsuspecting fool, she had complied. No doubt he had arranged to meet her in the garden to tell her that she was of no further interest.

She had to leave – she didn’t want to see Hal ever again. Finding her way to the hall through the library and then the morning-room to avoid meeting Hal or any of his family, she told Jennings that she was going home because she was unwell. Agitated, Isabella then stepped outside to wait for her carriage, where she met Mr Isherwood.

He seemed distracted, but peered carefully at Isabella. ‘Are you all right, Lady Vane?’

Isabella could not deny her distress. ‘No – something has upset me and I will be leaving London very soon.’

‘Sorry to hear that,’ said Freddy, who was the worse for drink and trying to marshal his thoughts. ‘When?’

‘First thing tomorrow, if it can be arranged,’ she replied, her tone bitter.

He shook his head sadly. ‘I’ve had the most abominable evening too – came out here to get away.’ Freddy, looking up, observed, ‘Lady Vane, I don’t like the idea of you travelling alone. Can I assist in any way?’

Isabella murmured, ‘No, thank you – I will have to organize everything myself. Oh, where is my carriage?’ She turned back to Freddy, who was once more asking to help with her journey. ‘What about Lady Julia? You can’t leave London, for her sake.’

Freddy grimaced and set his jaw pugnaciously. ‘That’s where the trouble lies and I’m dam— deuced if I’m going to stay here to see her fêted by Hearn and Dryburgh when I can’t do a thing about it.’

He persisted in his offer and, as her carriage had now arrived, Isabella had no time to argue further. She capitulated and asked him to meet her in Curzon Street at an agreed time, after making him swear that he would not breathe a word to anyone, particularly Lord Bramwell, about her destination.

Freddy, watching her carriage move out of the square, decided to go home too. He had endured the most difficult evening of his life and felt depressed as well as drunk. He did not normally drink to excess, but he had been driven to it by unhappiness. Julia’s sad looks in his direction had made him feel wretched and he wondered if Theo had been mistaken in his advice.

Freddy knew now that he could no longer bear to be away from Julia and needed to see her as soon as he had shaken off the effects of his potation. Suddenly, his befogged brain
remembered
his promise to Lady Vane. Putting a hand through his hair, he groaned aloud. There was nothing for it but to be as good as his word and accompany Lady Vane on her journey. He would be out of town for a day or two at most and must lay his heart at Julia’s feet when he returned.

While Freddy was reaching this decision, Hal was still waiting for Isabella in the garden.

 

Chapter Fourteen

H
AL
felt incredulous at Lady Portland’s shameless
proposition
. Felicity had always prided herself on her ability to attract a man’s attention and obviously she could not comprehend that she had failed with him. He had toyed with returning to the house to demand her departure, but, knowing Isabella would arrive soon, he had decided to wait and let the balmy evening air soothe his anger.

But when Isabella did not appear, Hal grew anxious. Something must have happened because he did not believe that she would stay away without good reason. Then, his anxiety began to merge with suspicion; he had seen the vicious look Felicity Portland had directed at Isabella in the park and she had seen them together again this evening. Felicity must have recognized by now his relationship with Isabella was serious. His mind racing, Hal considered another possibility, one that appalled him … perhaps Isabella had come outside earlier. That would explain why the damned Portland woman had thrown herself at him. Pushing his hand through his hair in agitation, he strode towards the house, all the while cursing himself for a fool: if what was he was surmising was true, it was imperative he find Isabella.

He ran the final yards and searched the ballroom and the side rooms, soon realizing that Isabella was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he sought out his mother, who was in the hall with some departing guests and, drawing her aside, he demanded, ‘Have you seen Isabella? We had arranged to meet in the garden, but she never appeared and now I cannot find her.’

‘Jennings has this moment informed me that she left a short while ago,’ replied Lady Bramwell. ‘She left a message that she was feeling unwell, but it seems she did not say goodbye to anyone.’

A frown creased Hal’s brow. ‘I don’t believe she is ill. She would have sent word to me if she was. I fear Lady Portland has spoken to her and, by God, if she has upset Isabella, I swear I will deal with her harshly.’ He turned to leave, but Marguerite laid a detaining hand on his arm.

‘Wait, Hal. Lady Portland also left – shortly before Isabella, according to Jennings.’

‘Devil take her!’ muttered Hal fiercely. ‘The woman is mad with spite and jealousy, and I should have guessed she would cause trouble somehow.’

Lady Bramwell had not connected Isabella and Lady Portland’s sudden departures, but seeing Hal’s turmoil she was also growing concerned. ‘What could she have said to make Isabella leave, Hal? Lady Portland is spiteful, but Isabella is too sensible to be affected by comments about her dress or her place in society.’

‘I don’t know, but I intend to go to Curzon Street and find out.’

‘But if you are mistaken and Isabella is ill, you will not be able to see her until morning.’

Hal shook his head, knowing instinctively that he was right. ‘I’ll lay my life that she has left because of Lady Portland.’

‘It is two o’clock in the morning,’ said his mother. ‘If Isabella has been upset by that woman, you can talk to her first thing tomorrow and put matters right.’

At that moment, Hal would have gladly broken the hinges off the elegant front door of Lady Bingham’s town house to speak to Isabella, but, much as he hated to acknowledge it, it was too late to see her now.

Just then, a flustered-looking Harriet appeared with Sir Seymour following close behind. ‘Lady Bramwell, I have just heard that Isabella is ill and has sent the carriage back for me,’ said Harriet. ‘How strange – she seemed perfectly well earlier. Perhaps it is a sudden headache brought on by the stress of Dominic’s disappearance.’

‘It would be understandable if that is the case,’ said Sir Seymour.

‘Would you give Lady Vane a message from me, Mrs Forster?’ said Hal in an urgent voice.

‘Of course. I’m sure that she is sorry at having to return home unexpectedly.’

‘Will you tell her … can you ask her not to believe—’ Hal
hesitated
, frustration etched on his face and then he sighed, raking his fingers through his hair once more and muttering under his breath, ‘No, it is useless. I cannot explain without seeing her.’ He looked up and spoke again to Harriet. ‘Tell Lady Vane that I will call in the morning and that I wish to speak to her as soon as possible.’

Harriet smiled reassuringly, thinking Lord Bramwell’s concern was for Isabella’s health. ‘I am certain that she will have recovered by then, Lord Bramwell. Call as soon as you wish after breakfast – we shall be at home.’

‘Will ten o’clock be convenient?’

Harriet nodded. ‘Ah, here is the carriage! Thank you for a most enjoyable evening, Lady Bramwell.’

‘Please give Isabella our best wishes,’ she replied.

Sir Seymour, moving forward and bowing low over Harriet’s hand, said, ‘Goodnight, Mrs Forster. If I may, I shall also call tomorrow morning – that is, I would like to enquire about Lady Vane’s health.’

‘We shall look forward to it,’ replied Harriet with a smile, as she wrapped her shawl around her against the night air.

Hal watched Harriet’s departure with an unseeing gaze. Convinced that Lady Portland had unleashed her spite, he did not know whether she had slandered him or Isabella, but either way, there was nothing else he could do this evening.

Lady Bramwell, who had been watching painful emotions flit across Hal’s features, saw Julia come into the hall. She noted that her daughter looked pale and had abandoned all pretence of enjoyment.

‘Has anyone seen Freddy?’ asked Julia.

Hal raised his brows. ‘Not this past hour. Is he in the card room?’

‘No, he finished his last game some time ago.’

Her mother suggested, ‘Perhaps he is with Theo.’

‘Who?’ asked Theo cheerfully, joining the family gathering.

‘Freddy,’ explained his sister. ‘I can’t find him anywhere.’

‘Do you know, it’s a deuced strange thing, but I can’t find him either. He was a trifle foxed – been drinking a bit too deep and was as moody as a bear – so I think he may have gone home. He knew I wanted another hand of piquet before he left, too,’ said Theo.

Jennings, until now an interested but silent observer of these events, decided to speak at this juncture and addressed Lady Bramwell in a low voice, ‘If you will pardon my intrusion, Lady Bramwell, Mr Isherwood has indeed left – I saw him depart after Lady Vane.’

Overhearing this, Julia declared in a faltering voice, ‘Oh! Then m-my evening is ruined.’

‘That is unlike Freddy,’ said Hal.

Theo nodded, adding cryptically, ‘Knew you would react that way, Ju.’

‘What are you talking about?’ demanded Julia, eyeing Theo with suspicion through moist eyes.

‘Oh, nothing … I’m sure you’ll see Freddy soon.’

Lady Bramwell intervened. ‘Oh dear, it seems everyone’s affairs are in a tangle. You had best go to bed, Julia. Don’t despair – Freddy will receive a note inviting him to take coffee with us tomorrow and I will ensure you are left undisturbed until you have sorted out your problems.’ She turned to her eldest son. ‘Perhaps you should go to bed too, Hal.’

He shook his head, his mood sombre. ‘I cannot sleep – I’ll be in the library.’

‘I understand. Theo and I will stay with our remaining guests.’

‘Oh, Lord,’ said Theo, uttering a groan. ‘If I have to endure another conversation with Aunt Jane, I won’t get to bed until five o’clock!’

 

When Harriet arrived back in Curzon Street and observed the glow of candlelight under Isabella’s bedroom door, she was surprised; she had assumed Isabella would have retired to bed. However, as Harriet opened the door, it was clear that Isabella was not asleep, nor even in her nightgown – she was fully dressed and placing clothes into a portmanteau. She glanced up as Harriet entered, but continued with her task.

Harriet, having looked on in silent astonishment for a moment, asked, ‘What are you doing?’

‘Packing,’ replied Isabella. ‘We are leaving London first thing tomorrow.’

‘Leaving London?’ echoed Harriet faintly, ‘To go where?’

‘Haystacks.’

‘But Haystacks is not ready yet—’ began Harriet. Then she saw the shimmer of tears in Isabella’s eyes. ‘Oh, my dear, what has distressed you?’

Isabella bit her lip. ‘I would rather not explain now, Harriet. There is little time if we are to be ready.’

‘But I do not want to leave London,’ said her aunt. ‘We are comfortable here and are not due to go to Sussex for several weeks. Has your decision something to do with Dominic? If so—’

‘No,’ interjected Isabella, pausing to look up. She drew in a deep breath and said, ‘It has nothing to do with Dominic.’

‘Then why? It is unfair of you to do this without a word of explanation.’

‘You are right – it is selfish to expect you to come with us,’ said Isabella. ‘Stay, if you wish, but I will have to swear you to secrecy as to my whereabouts.’

Harriet sighed. ‘That was not what I meant, Isabella. If you believe it is necessary to leave London, then I would not dream of letting you go alone, but tell me what is behind this sudden decision.’

‘Lord Bramwell has betrayed my trust,’ she murmured. ‘I have discovered that he does not care for me and has only courted my affection to win a wager.’ As Isabella observed Harriet’s shocked expression, she added bitterly, ‘Apparently, I am known as the Ice Angel in every gentleman’s club in London and listed in their betting books. Lord Bramwell took up the challenge to thaw me and tonight, he has won his hateful wager in full view of society. I never want to see him again and that is the reason for my haste. Please do not ask me any more now because I cannot bring myself to speak of it.’ She ended on a sob, and covered her face with her hands.

Harriet, her tender heart stirred, embraced her niece. ‘Isabella, I hate to see you like this … hush.’ When Isabella’s tears had subsided a little, Harriet ventured, ‘It seems
impossible
to me that Lord Bramwell could act in so dishonourable a fashion, but you obviously believe this to be true. Indeed, I had wondered if you were beginning to care for him and now I see that you do.’

‘I love him, Harriet, and that makes his betrayal even more painful,’ replied Isabella, wiping her remaining tears away angrily. ‘What a fool I’ve been! I believed everything Lord Bramwell said, in spite of an insistent doubt, but after what I have seen and heard this evening, I must listen to my head rather than my heart.’

‘Shouldn’t you speak with him before we leave?’

Shaking her head, Isabella returned to her packing. ‘He would deny it anyway. Dominic will be upset, but he will recover.’ Then, she added in a whisper, ‘My heart will not.’

‘It seems incredible that Lord Bramwell could be involved,’ said Harriet. ‘I hoped that you cared for him because—’ She hesitated, and then, collecting herself, added, ‘Perhaps that explanation is also for another time. My dear, I would like to stay in London, but I cannot bear to see you unhappy again so we shall all leave tomorrow. Have you ordered the carriage?’

‘I have asked for it to be brought to the door at six.’

‘Then we shall be gone before Lord Bramwell arrives. When he realized you had left without saying goodnight, he seemed agitated.’

Isabella started in alarm. ‘Does he come here now?’

‘No, he thought better of it, but he said that it was imperative he talked to you so I suggested he called at ten o’clock tomorrow – you see, I had no idea what had happened.’

‘I’m sorry, but my one thought was to get away. Harriet, Mr Isherwood is to accompany us.’ Isabella explained how this had come about, then continued, ‘I agreed, albeit reluctantly, but I made him promise not to speak a word of this to his friend.’

Harriet nodded and sighed. ‘Running away is not the right thing to do in my opinion, but it seems I cannot persuade you otherwise at present. Work at Haystacks will not be finished so we must make the best of what we find there.’

Harriet left Isabella shortly afterwards, bearing instructions for the staff and a parcel, addressed to Lord Bramwell, which was to be delivered to Berkeley Square after their departure.

For Lord Bramwell to have sought Isabella’s attentions merely to win a wager sounded nonsensical to Harriet. However, she alone knew the details of her niece’s marriage and the circumstances surrounding Edward’s death, both of which had resulted in Isabella’s insecurity and lack of trust. While Harriet did not agree with her decision to leave, she understood why to do so would be Isabella’s instinctive response. But how to address her own affairs? After some thought, Harriet wrote a letter which she gave to a footman before returning to her own packing with a heavy heart.

 

The following morning, Mr Isherwood’s valet Simpkins pulled back the curtains in his master’s bedchamber to reveal a fine dawn. He placed a steaming cup of coffee next to the bed and said, ‘Sir, it is five o’clock.’

After a few minutes, his master stirred. However, he did not speak, but instead buried his head underneath the pillow so Simpkins tried again, ‘You have an appointment in one hour, sir.’

Freddy moaned. He emerged from under the pillow, opened one eye and grimaced; even that movement caused hammer blows to fall inside his skull. Regarding his valet balefully, he mumbled, ‘Simpkins, you are mistaken – I have been asleep for half an hour at most. For pity’s sake, go back to bed.’

Simpkins, who had been in his master’s employ for several years, grinned as he recognized the after effects of
overindulgence
in drink. ‘I am sorry, sir, but that is the correct time. In fact, it is now five minutes past five. There is coffee on the table if you would care to take some.’ After a diplomatic pause, he continued, ‘May I suggest that the coffee would ease your dry mouth?’

Eyes closed, Freddy growled in a menacing fashion. ‘No, you may not. You and the damned coffee will be consigned to the fiery reaches of Hell if you do not leave me in peace.’

Valiantly, Simpkins did not flinch. ‘Such sentiments are understandable considering your … er … delicate constitution this morning, but you were insistent that you be woken at this time, in spite of, if I may be so bold as to use your words, sir, “whatever insults I might throw at you”.’

BOOK: Ice Angel
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