The Wrong Woman (8 page)

“What?” Her aunt exclaimed.

Cat was distracted by her thoughts and did not answer for a few agonizing moments. Her mind worked quickly, putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
Of course… it must be!

“Aunt, how does one tell a gentleman that he is courting the wrong woman?”

Aunt Hetty sat up straight and looked carefully at her niece. “What on earth do you mean, Cat?”

“Izzy! Don’t you see!”

“I must confess that I do not quite follow you.”

“She made him laugh. And though she says she hates him, she has been changing her mind, I think.”

“Catherine Masters, I think I see what is in your mind. And I must counsel you against it. You must be careful. Isobel guards her heart well. You may not know what is in it.

“She is my sister, aunt. I think I know her. And I can see now that she is acting like a child. And he is too. They pick at each other to avoid having to say anything real about their feelings.”

“That is a great insight into both people. But it does not mean that they belong together. It is not quite as simple as all that.”

“I see,” Cat begrudged her aunt that point, though she did not want to give up entirely on her idea. “Izzy was not happy at all the first times he called here. But when I asked her to try and like him for my sake, she did try very hard. And I think she has found that she does like him in spite of herself.”

“You may be right,” Aunt Hetty conceded. “And perhaps Lord Revere is softening toward her. I did hear about last evening.”

“Aunt, what do you know?”

A smile crossed Aunt Hetty's face. “Walls have ears, my dear. And the walls reported to me that there was quite a bit of laughter emanating from the front parlor last night while two certain parties awaited your arrival.”

“It's true. When I came downstairs, I hardly knew where I was! Izzy was laughing like she does at home. But even more surprising to me was that Lord Revere was practically doubled over with laughter. I had never expected such a thing from him. He seemed nice enough, but always at a distance, like he knew the right thing to do and did it, but wasn't really attached to his actions.”

“And what of the musicale last evening? What happened there?”

“Oh, it was glorious, Aunt Hetty,” Cat sighed at the memories. “The music was so beautiful. The soprano made me and Izzy weep with her lovely voice. And Lord Revere did not even laugh at us! In fact, I think he paid more attention during the second half after he saw our raptures over the singer.”

“And he was so kind to Izzy, aunt! When she walked confidently into that room full of people, they looked at her like she was a new person! And it was all down to Lord Revere, I am sure! He did look quite proud of her, actually.”

“Hmmm,” her aunt mused. “And if Lord Revere transferred his affections to your sister, you would not be jealous?”

“I do like the attention, of course. But if Izzy had a chance to love, I think I would do anything for her. I think I should be very happy to see that. I do not love him like a heroine loves her hero. And I think I am too young to give up on the idea of marrying a man who thrills me.”

“Be careful, my dear Cat,” Aunt Hetty smiled sadly. “I have spent my life waiting for my storybook hero to arrive.”

“May I stay with you until we both find our princes?”

“Of course, my love. What do you think Izzy has been doing all these years?”

Cat laughed.

“You think I am joking,” Aunt Hetty spoke seriously. “Your sister has tried to hide herself away from the world. Oh, not by becoming a recluse or joining a convent. But she has tried to hide herself in the chaperone's corner, to be invisible because it is too painful for her to be visible. She is like Lord Revere in that way, in truth.” The last was spoken almost to herself.

Cat was confused. “What do you mean? Lord Revere doesn't hide in corners like Izzy does.”

“No, I consider him to be even worse than Isobel. Lord Revere hides in plain sight, my dear. He is very good at playing the gentleman, but there is little emotion in his performance, as you have observed.” Aunt Hetty paused, thinking. Cat saw a gleam come into her eye as a sly smile crept across her face. “Which makes it all the more interesting that he was laughing so heartily with your sister last night, don’t you think? I assume he has not done so with you?” Cat shook her head. “I think he has hidden his caring away deep inside of himself. Tragedy will do that to a man, especially with friends like his.”

“Tragedy?” Cat was intrigued. But Aunt Hetty did not elaborate. “Aunt Hetty, the more we talk, the more I am convinced that Lord Revere does not need to marry
me
at all. He needs to marry Izzy!”

“Steady, child. Do not get overexcited by this idea.”

“But aunt,” Cat sat straight up in the bed, disturbing the blankets Aunt Hetty had tucked around them, “how can we get them to know that they are meant for each other?”

“Patience, my dear,” Aunt Hetty laughed. “They are two very cautious people. We cannot interfere too much or they will suspect something of us. It must grow naturally between them, if it is to grow at all. And I have my doubts about that.”

“We must make it grow!” Cat declared.

“They are two stubborn people who will not be told what to think or feel. They are both guarded, wounded. Life has not been quite fair to either of them, but they do their best. We cannot tell them who to love, even though we might want it to happen. They absolutely
must
discover it for themselves.”

“So you think they should fall in love, too?”

“Well,” Aunt Hetty’s eyes flashed with amusement. “It would not be the end of the world…”

“I don't think I can bear to wait for Izzy to realize that she likes him.” Cat flopped theatrically back onto the pillows. “I want her to be happy now. There is not much time left before we go home for the year, though.” A note of anxiety crept into her voice.

“Well, though we must be careful about it, I think some gentle nudging might be in order.”

“Yes, please, aunt!” Cat clapped her hands in excitement. “What do you have in mind?”

Chapter 10

Two afternoons after her triumph at Mrs. Starr’s, Isobel came bursting into the front parlor. She spoke quickly, a little out of breath.

“It is quite unaccountable, Lord Revere. My sister is normally the very picture of robust young womanhood. But she declares to me that she is out of health and cannot accompany you today. I am sorry. I know you had prepared something special for her and she was very much looking forward to it.”

Lord Revere had risen at her entrance and now stood silently in the middle of the room. A soft grunt was his only response to her hurried speech. After a pause, in which he remained silent, Isobel continued on nervously.

“So… I am sorry, but I believe we shall have to postpone until another day. I know that my sister will be disappointed to miss such a special treat.” Isobel did her best to smile at the scowling man in front of her.

He still gave no answer. Isobel grew wary. This was the Lord Revere she’d known for ten years, not the man she had met the other evening, the one who had laughed with her and helped her overcome her anxiety. All the comradeship they'd built up over the escapade at the musicale seemed to have been forgotten.

“So...” Isobel began, wanting only to break the growing silence. “If you would like to call again tomorrow, I'm sure Cat will be better and we might reschedule our outing.”

“We might,” he said, still no expression on his face.

Isobel nodded and smiled nervously.
What is he waiting for? Can he not just go?

Finally, he bowed his head slightly to her and moved toward the door. Isobel almost sighed aloud with relief.

“Miss Masters?” The sigh stopped in her throat.

“Yes?” She turned toward where he stood just inside the doorway.

Lord Revere looked into her face and then quickly looked at the floor. “Would
you
be amenable to accompanying me today, even without your sister?”

Her face must have given away her surprise because he continued on, stuttering over his words. “It is not that I wish to be insensitive to her condition – and I do hope that she will be well soon – but… I… I have arranged this viewing specially for us today. A friend hosts a private collection of artworks and… and… he has agreed to let us peruse it this afternoon. It would be a…a… shame to waste the opportunity, I think.” Lord Revere gave her what she thought was intended to be a smile, but looked more like he had crushed his fingers in the door and was trying not to cry.

“Well, I…” Isobel stumbled over her answer, unsure how to respond to this odd proposition. “I…uh…I would be loath to leave my sister if she needs me.” Isobel was relieved at finding an excuse.

“Oh,” he nodded. “Of… of course. I only thought… I’m sorry.” He turned to go.

It was a strange speech and had taken Isobel by surprise. Still, she felt some sympathy for the man who was clearly out of his depth in this situation.

“I…I guess I could ask Cat?” Her sister would give her the final excuse, then maybe Isobel would not feel so guilty about turning him down.

“Would you?”

Isobel nodded and left the room, stepping awkwardly around him as she reached the door.

She climbed the stairs to her sister’s room, puzzling over the unexpected invitation. An afternoon alone with Lord Revere? It was not high on her list of delightful entertainments. Isobel knocked quietly on Cat’s bedroom door and went in. The room was dark except for a tiny sliver of light that showed through the curtains.

“Cat?”

“Yes, Isobel?” Her sister's voice came weakly from the bed.

“How are you feeling, darling?” Isobel knelt by the side of the bed and took her sister's hand.

“I will be all right, I think. I just need some rest today.” Cat smiled weakly at her sister. “Has Lord Revere gone? I hope he was not too disappointed.”

“Actually, my dear, he is still downstairs.”

“Oh?” Isobel felt Cat stir as if trying to sit up in bed.

“He awaits an answer from me.”

“About what?” Some energy came back into her voice.

“He wonders if I might accompany him on the outing he had planned for this afternoon.”

“And of course, you said yes,” Cat enthused.

“I did not!” Isobel protested. “I told him I would attend to you. You need me, so I must stay with you, right?” Isobel tried to hint at her true desire.

“No!” Cat yelled.

“What is the matter, sister? If you are ill, how can I leave?”

“But Izzy… I am feeling much better,” she nodded quickly. “I do wish you would go…” Cat paused as if to think. “So that... umm... you might tell me all about this place!”

“I guess so…” Isobel was confused.

“And besides,” Cat continued, “it will be another chance for you to see the man I like and might marry!”

“All right, I guess. It’s just…”

“What?” Cat was sitting up in the bed now, leaning toward her sister.

“Lord Revere and I do not get along very well.”

“Oh ffft. You got along splendidly the other evening. You were laughing together in the parlor!”

“And I liked
that
man. But he seems to have turned back into the scary Lord Revere who wants to eat me alive.”

“Izzy, have you never considered that maybe he is trying to make amends with you? I think it cannot be a comfortable situation for him to have to apologize in order to get his way. But it does appear that he’s trying, at least. Can’t
you
try, too?”

“But does trying mean that I have to spend an entire afternoon in his company?”

“Into the fire, sister!” she giggled. “Oh, Izzy, don’t be so afraid of him. Just charm him again like you did the other night. And if that doesn't work, at least you will get to see some wonderful art. You may simply stare at the paintings and refuse to make conversation with him if he does not become more civil around you!”

“And you really wish me to do this?” Isobel was still unsure.

“I do. Very much. I want you to try and like Lord Revere. Just a little bit. For me.” Cat clasped her sister’s hands.

“All right, Cat,” Isobel laughed. “I shall go, if only to stop you reasoning me into it.”

“You will have a wonderful time, Izzy. And you must remember everything so that you can tell me about it!”

“I will, my dear. Rest now. I will be back later. If Lord Revere doesn't do away with me first...”

* * * * *

As Isobel took Lord Revere's hand to dismount from the carriage, she wondered for the thousandth time why on earth she had agreed to do this. Cat owed her a lot after this. All the way here they had made only awkward, stilted conversation. It did not bode well for the rest of the day. With each passing moment, Isobel’s regret increased. How was she to survive for an entire afternoon, even for Cat’s sake?

In silence, they mounted the stairs of the grand mansion in front of them as a groom drove the carriage around the corner to some unseen stable. The residence was an imposing structure. The beige stones of the facade looked immaculately clean in the glare of the afternoon sun. Their glow lingered in her eyes even as they stepped into the darkened doorway.

“Hello, Burnley.” Lord Revere greeted the man cordially.

“Good afternoon, sir. It is good to see you again.” The butler bowed to them and gestured them into the house.

“How is your master?”

“Enjoying the countryside, sir. You know how much His Grace hates to be in town if he can help it.”

Isobel heard Lord Revere chuckle at this.
His Grace? A duke? What was this place? And how did Lord Revere know a duke?

Isobel blinked rapidly, adjusting her eyes to the gloom of the interior. When they cleared, she saw that she stood in a front hall unlike anything she had ever seen. It was like a castle with a grand, sweeping staircase that just barely filled the center of the room. The rest of the space was covered in shining marble and peppered with what appeared to be classical sculpture. Though even this hallway looked like a museum, they did not linger long. After Burnley had shut the door behind him, he escorted them off to the side of the staircase.