Regency Rumours (20 page)

‘Oh, you wretch,’ she sobbed, her fingers tight on the hard muscle of his shoulders as she arched, seeking his touch. ‘You torturer.’

‘Touch me,’ Giles said, bringing her hand to clasp around him. ‘Take me with you.’ Then he held nothing back, his body at her mercy, his hands demanding, demanding, until Isobel lost all sense of what was her and what was Giles and surrendered to the mindless oblivion of pleasure.

She came to herself to find him slumped across her, relaxed into sleep. ‘Giles?’

‘Mmm.’ His lids fluttered, the dark lashes tickling her cheek, then he was still again.

Isobel tugged the greatcoat more securely over them, curled her arms around him and lay, cheek to cheek, thinking. Nothing lasted for ever. She had him now and for a few days and precious nights even
though she did not have his words of love. She would not waste those moments by anticipating the inevitable parting; she would live them and revel in them and then do her best to live without him.
I will not pine. I will find some purpose, some joy in life. I will not allow something so precious to destroy me
. In the distance thunder rumbled.

An hour later they approached the house from different directions, Giles from the western drive, Isobel retracing her route, bringing Firefly across the wide sweep of gravel before the house to the stables. They met, as if by chance, outside the stable arch.

‘Mr Harker! Good morning.’ Isobel let the groom help her dismount and waited while Giles swung down from the grey. The sound of bustling activity made her look through into the inner yard where the back of a chaise was just visible.

‘Visitors,’ Giles observed. ‘Have you had a pleasant ride, Lady Isobel?’

‘Very stimulating, thank you. But I fear it is about to rain.’ She caught up the long skirt of her habit and walked with him across to the front door. Benson opened it as they approached and Isobel stepped into the hall to find the callers had only just been admitted. A grey-haired man of medium height with a commanding nose turned at the sound of their entrance,
leaning heavily on a stick. Beside him a thin lady in an exquisitely fashionable bonnet started forwards.

‘Isobel, my darling! What good news! We had to come at once even if it did mean travelling on a Sunday.’

She stopped dead on the threshold. ‘Mama. Papa.’ Her mother caught her in her arms as Isobel felt the room begin to spin. There was a crash of thunder and behind her the footman slammed the door closed on the downpour.
No escape
.

‘Darling! Are you ill? You have gone so pale—sit down immediately.’

‘I…I am all right. It was just the shock of seeing you, Mama. Thank you, Mr Harker.’

Giles slid a hall chair behind her knees and Isobel sat down with an undignified thump. ‘Lord Bythorn, Lady Bythorn.’ He bowed and stepped away towards the foot of the steps.

‘Wait—you are Harker?’

‘My lord.’ Giles turned. His face had gone pale and the bruises stood out in painful contrast.

‘Lord James Albright tells me that you were injured standing with him to bring to account those scum who compromised my daughter. And I hear from her own letters that you rescued Isobel and young Lizzie from the lake.’

‘The lake was nothing—anyone passing would
have done the same. And Lord James is an old friend, my lord. I merely did what I could to assist him.’ Giles made no move to offer his hand or to come closer. Isobel realised her mother had not addressed him and she was looking a trifle flustered now. Of course, they knew who he was, what he was, and Giles had expected that, should he ever meet them, he would receive this reaction.

‘You have my heartfelt thanks.’ The earl paused, a frown creasing his brow. ‘You are a resident in this house?’

‘I am undertaking architectural work for the earl. Excuse me, my lord. Ladies.’ He bowed and was gone.

‘Well, I’m glad to have the opportunity to thank the fellow in person,’ her father said, wincing from his gout as he shifted back to face her. ‘But I must say I’m surprised to find him a guest in the house.’

‘Lady Hardwicke always gives rooms to the architects and landscape designers,’ Isobel said indifferently. ‘The earl works so closely with them, I believe he finds it more convenient. I met Mr Soane when I arrived, but I have not yet met Mr Repton.’

‘Soane? Well, he’s a gentleman, at least. I hear rumours of a knighthood,’ her father said. Isobel opened her mouth to retort that Giles was a gentleman, and a
brave and gallant one at that, then shut it with a snap. To defend him would only arouse suspicion.

‘The man looks a complete brigand with his face in that state,’ her mother remarked with distaste.

‘He was injured in the fight defending Lord James and, by extension, me.’

‘Well, he might be less of a menace to women now he has lost his looks. The man was a positive Adonis, so I hear—and there are enough foolish ladies with the instincts of lightskirts to encourage men like that,’ Lady Bythorn added with a sniff.

‘Perhaps he is only a menace to married ladies,’ Isobel said sweetly, her hands clenched so tightly that a seam in her glove split. ‘Cousin Elizabeth has no qualms about allowing him to socialise with her daughters or myself. Suitably chaperoned, of course.’

‘I am glad to hear about the chaperonage, at least! But that is all academic—I expect your woman can have your things all packed by the time we have finished luncheon.’

‘Packed?

‘Well, of course.’ Her mother beamed at her fondly. ‘Now everyone knows the truth of what happened, there is no reason for you to be hiding in the country. You can come home and do the Season just as we planned.’

‘But—’ Isobel could hear Cousin Elizabeth’s voice
coming closer. And the butler and footmen were still standing in the background, having stood to attention with blank faces throughout Lady Bythorn’s opinions on Giles’s morals. This was no place to start arguing with her parents about her future.

‘Margaret! Bythorn! What a pleasant surprise.’ The countess sailed into the hall, beaming. ‘You’ve come to collect dear Isobel, of course. We are going to miss her sadly.’ She ushered them towards the Yellow Drawing Room. ‘Margaret, would you like to go up with Isobel to her room? I will ring for her woman to bring you whatever you need after your journey. You must have set out at the crack of dawn to make such good time.’

‘I will go up in a moment, Elizabeth—it is so good just to see Isobel again! We left as soon as we received Lord James’s letter and put up overnight at the Bell at Buntingford. I could not wait to get my dear girl home again. Thank heavens we have not missed anything of the Season.’

‘I imagine Isobel is more glad about the restoration of her reputation than the opportunity to take part in social events,’ Cousin Elizabeth said with a glance at Isobel. There was understanding in the look and a kind of rueful sympathy. She, at least, had some inkling of how reluctant Isobel was to plunge back into the social whirl that she so disliked and the imagination
to understand what gossip and snide remarks would still follow her.

‘I would prefer to stay here, Mama,’ Isobel said. She folded her hands on her lap and sat up straight, as though perfect deportment would somehow be a barricade against this disaster. If she let her shoulders droop, if she relaxed in the slightest, she did not think she would be able to stop herself either sobbing in despair or running to find Giles.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

‘S
TAY HERE
?’
SAID
Lady Bythorn, turning her gaze on Isobel. For a moment she thought there was hope, then her mother shook her head. ‘But you cannot impose on Lady Hardwicke’s hospitality now it is not necessary. Really, Isobel, it is about time you shook off this pose of indifference to society. We should never have allowed you to stay with Mrs Needham for over a year in that remote place as we did. I declare you came back a positive stranger to us.’

‘I am sorry, Mama.’

‘It would be best for you to go back to London, Isobel,’ Cousin Elizabeth said. ‘We will miss you, but there is the risk that rumours may begin again if you do not make an appearance. It might seem that you have something to hide after all.’

So there was no help there. Where else could she go? If she ran away to Jane and Annabelle, then Papa would fetch her back and she did not think she could face him meeting his granddaughter all unawares. Without her allowance she had no money. To throw
herself into Giles’s arms would be to embroil him in a scandal that might wreck his career.

It seemed very hard to think coherently. Isobel felt she was running through a darkened house, banging on doors that all proved to be locked, twisting and turning in a maze of corridors.

She had thought she had a few more precious days with Giles—now those had been snatched away from her. She had to speak to him. When he left the hall he had turned towards the stairs. He must have gone up to his chamber to change.

‘Mama, shall I show you to my rooms? I can set Dorothy to packing.’ From somewhere she dredged up the courage to smile and stand and pretend composure.

‘Of course.’ Her mother linked arms with her as they went up the stairs. ‘Now, you only have to overcome this indifferent shyness you seem to feel and all will be well. The country air has done you good—your cheeks are rosy, your lips look fuller and there is such a sparkle in your eyes.’

All the consequence of Giles’s lovemaking, if her mother did but know it. It seemed she had no suspicion that anything untoward had occurred, even though they had entered the house together. Perhaps it seemed impossible to Mama that her daughter would
even think of flirting with someone in his position, let alone anything else.

‘Here we are. It is a lovely view, is it not? Dorothy, please can you pack all my things as soon as possible—I am sure you can ask for help if you need it. We will be leaving after luncheon, so do not neglect your own meal. But first, please fetch hot water for her ladyship.’

‘Yes, my lady.’ The maid bobbed a curtsy to the countess. ‘I am so glad Lady Isobel is going home, my lady, if I may be so bold.’

‘Thank you, Dorothy. We are all delighted,’ Lady Bythorn said and the maid hurried out.

‘Mama, would you excuse me while I run up to the nursery and schoolroom and say goodbye to the children? I have become very fond of them.’

‘Of course. I will just sit here and admire the prospect from the window and rest a little.’

Isobel dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek and went out of the door leading to the back stairs. As soon as she was out of sight she ran up to the attics and into the schoolroom.

‘Cousin Isobel!’ Lizzie jumped up beaming from her seat beside Caroline, who had her head wrapped in a shawl and was looking very woebegone.

‘Excuse me, Miss Henderson, for interrupting your
lesson, but I have to say goodbye to the children. My mama and papa have come to collect me, Lizzie.’

‘Oh.’ Her face fell. ‘Can you not stay a little longer?’

‘No, I am sorry. I promise I will write to you all. Is Charles in the nursery? I must kiss him as well,’ she said as she disentangled herself from the children’s hugs.

‘If you are all very good, we will wrap up warmly and go out on the leads to wave Lady Isobel goodbye,’ the governess suggested.

‘That will be lovely. Thank you. Now, I will be going to London, so I will send you all a present. Would you like that?’

She left them agog at the thought of gifts arriving when it was not even their birthdays or Christmas and whisked down the stairs and along the passage leading to Giles’s bedchamber. There would be just time, if he was only still there.

Isobel pressed her ear to the panels, but she could hear no voices, so the valet was not with him. Without knocking she opened the door and slipped inside.

‘Isobel!’ Giles strode out of his dressing room and shut the door behind her.

‘Your face—why have you taken the dressing off? The doctor hasn’t even removed the stitches. Oh, it looks so sore!’

‘It looks thoroughly unsightly and will, I hope, convince your parents that no daughter of theirs would look twice at its owner.’ He gave her a little shake. ‘What on earth are you doing here? There will be hell to pay if you are found with me.’

‘I had to talk to you,’ she protested. ‘And I do not know when we could have snatched even a moment alone. Papa intends to return home immediately after luncheon. Giles, what are we going to do?’

‘Nothing, except come to our senses,’ he said, his face harsh. ‘This is a blessing in disguise—the longer we were together, the more chance there was of this being discovered.’

‘But we have no chance to plan now—’

‘There is nothing to plan for. You are not a romantic young girl, Isobel. You knew this was hopeless, just as I did, but we let ourselves daydream and now it is time to wake up.’

‘Just like that?’ She stared at him. The cold, aloof man of their first meeting was back and her tender lover was quite vanished. ‘No regrets, no sadness, just a
blessing in disguise?
I love you, Giles.’

‘And I let myself think I could dally with an earl’s daughter.’ He cupped his hand around her cheek. ‘Sunshine in February. I should have known there would be a frost to follow.
Wake up
, Isobel—it is over.’

‘So you really do not love me?’ she asked painfully. He thought of what had happened as just a dalliance? The rain drumming on the window echoed the frantic beating of her heart.

‘I told you that. And you have not fallen in love with me, if you will only be honest with yourself. You had been hurt and rejected by people you thought were your friends. You wanted affection and you wanted to rebel, too.’

‘You think so? After we made love as we have, you can still say it was all a delusion, an act of rebellion? It must have been, because I thought I knew you and now I do not think I do, not at all.’

She turned away, unable to bear his touch any longer, then swung back. ‘Why did you fight for me if I was not important to you?’

‘It was the right thing to do, for my friends and for any lady who had been betrayed in that way.’