To Have and to Hold (41 page)

Eyeing the
despondency his brother was trying to keep within, he recalled their day’s
activities.
 
None of the poste chaises
had taken up anyone of Isobel’s description.
 
There had been no sight of her along any of the main roads or indeed,
any of the smaller country roads.
  
She
had run true to form once again, and just completely disappeared, ostensibly
into thin air.

Dominic bit back
a sigh of frustration.
 
Surely she had
trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t just hand her over to DeLisle and
Rupert, didn’t she?
 
Surely she didn’t
think he would just blithely let them walk out of the door dragging her behind
them?
 
Didn’t everything they had shared
mean anything to her at all?
 
Why hadn’t
she trusted him?
 
He knew he had been
unable to keep the shock and dismay from his face when he had first read the
paperwork.
 
His world had been rocked so
badly by the new and unexpected turn of events; he had needed to turn his back
to rein in his temper for several moments.
  
Surely she hadn’t thought he was turning away from her!

But she must
have done, he reminded himself as he considered the day he had just had.
 
A warrior by nature, defeat sat uncomfortably
upon his shoulders as they made their way back into the stable yard.
 

Isobel sat atop
the Nottingham bound
poste
chaise and clung on to the
side rail with all of her strength. Her knuckles gleamed white in the afternoon
sunshine.
 
Despite the sun riding high in
the sky, the air was cold.
 
Already her
breath fogged out in front of her as she gasped in alarm as they careered
through the English countryside at breakneck speed.
 

On several
occasions they had passed riders coming in the opposite direction.
 
Isobel’s heart had lurched each time she had
studied them, wondering if the next group would be Dominic or DeLisle.
 
She had taken great pains to ensure the
stable hand at the Dog and Fox in town didn’t recognise her.
  

A stark memory
of Dominic’s face as he read the document, and the clear disappointment she had
seen there, was enough to convince her that he had believed what he saw and
leaving was the right, and only course of action she could take for the time
being.
 
Nothing she could have said, or
done, would have convinced him otherwise until she had her own documentation to
prove her innocence.
 
Whether they would
have a marriage afterwards was very much in doubt.

Carefully, she
clutched the scrolled paperwork beneath the cloak.
 
It burned against her thigh as it rested
there.
 
She felt dirty just having it
against her skin let alone having to carry it.
 
She just wished she could drop it over the chaise into the mud where it
belonged, but she needed it for just a few days more.
 
Until she could once again seek the help of
the one person she hoped would offer his assistance to her plight.

Peter had
reluctantly agreed for her to remove it from the study when she had appeared
earlier.
  
Dominic had gone upstairs in
search of her.
 
Sebastian and Edward had
removed themselves to the Library for a stiff drink.
 
It had taken some firm persuading to obtain
his agreement to her plans, but nevertheless she had purloined the scroll and
promptly left.
 
Now she could only hope
once again Hubert would stand true to his word and agree to help her.

Hubert Williams
was a long standing friend of her fathers.
 
She had grown up remembering his calming presence frequently visiting
the house, firstly on his own to conduct business affairs with her father then
latterly with his wife Martha in tow.
 
Hubert and Martha had never been blessed with children yet had possessed
a kindly nature that had gone a long way towards cementing relations between
the two families.
  
Isobel had been
younger than Peter, and as such had spent more time becoming acquainted with
Hubert who had become more of an uncle to her than Rupert.
 
He was also the Magistrate for the shire of
Nottingham.
 
The one person whom Isobel
knew had the ability to unearth the truth.
 
It added that he absolutely hated Rupert, and would not hesitate in
offering her the assistance she needed, however unconventional it was her
turning up on his doorstep unannounced. Again.

Pain lanced
through her and she closed her eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears.
 
Her disguise would be rumbled if she started
bawling like a baby.
 
Shooting a brief
glance at the coachman, his attention was held by the four drawing the swaying
carriage.
 
They were careering through
the countryside at breakneck pace, the horses clearly relishing the opportunity
to stretch their legs.
 
Isobel couldn’t
help but wonder if they would actually get to their destination in one
piece.
 
Gladly, she was to get off on the
next stop and her ordeal would be over sooner than the others.
 

Still beggars
couldn’t be choosers, she reminded herself sternly remembering the long days
trudging endlessly through nondescript country lanes.
 
At least she wouldn’t have to be subjected to
a night outdoors.
 
On that thought,
memories of her last night outdoors with Dominic flooded through her bringing a
fresh wave of misery.
 
Whilst she had
been in no doubt as to the depth of his desire for her, they had only briefly
touched upon their emotions.
 
She knew
Dominic was the only man she would ever love in her lifetime.
 
She also knew with intense sadness that his
feelings for her weren’t as deep or as abiding.
 
His trust in her was practically nonexistent.

A small moan
escaped her without realising it, causing the Coachman to turn to her with a
toothy grin.
 
“Don’t worry m’lad, we’ll
be there soon!”
 
He shouted clearly
thinking she was scared of the breakneck pace.
 

Isobel clenched
her jaw and blinked rapidly for several minutes, glad her melancholy thoughts
had been diverted so effectively.

Soon she would
be at Hubert’s house and could seek his advice on how best to get to the bottom
of Rupert’s latest scheme.
 
Strangely she
considered it unusual he hadn’t mentioned the documents she and Dominic had
stolen.
 
Maybe he had been planning on
finding out what she had done with them with his usual Rupert-style
brutality.
 
Maybe he had decided to
create the false documents to secure her fortune instead, deeming the betrothal
documents worthless.
 

She was still
pondering the possibilities when the Coach careered to a stop in the yard of a
coaching inn.
 
Shouting their arrival,
Isobel nodded brusquely to the Coachman and jumped down with a bone jarring
thud.
 
Catching her breath, she inhaled
the wafting scent of what smelt like cooking bacon hungrily, pausing briefly to
consider the doorway before reluctantly turning towards the edge of town and
Hubert’s house.

The market town
was quietening down as the sunlight gave way to cold, frosty air.
 
Shutters had been drawn and doors latched
closed.
 
The leather of her booted feet
clipped harshly in the night air as she snuggled down into the warmth of Dominic’s
woollen cloak. It seemed a lifetime had passed since she first stumbled through
the small workers cottages.
 
Turning up
on Hubert’s doorstep half starved and shivering, Isobel was amazed Hubert
hadn’t slammed the door shut on her and bolted it for good measure.
 
He had helped her then, without question.
Sighing deeply at the sudden turn of events and complexities that had once
again turned life on its head, she inhaled the lingering scent of Dominic with
bitter regret and turned onto Hubert’s driveway.

Within minutes
she was eyeing the inviting glow of candle-light in the mullioned windows of
the large stone house on the edge of the main street.
 
Tall and elegant, it was clearly one of the
grandest houses in the small village.
 
Briefly, she wondered if she should have stayed at the coaching inn
overnight and called first thing in the morning; that pie and bacon had
certainly smelt inviting enough.
 
If the
beds were as good a quality as the food smelt, then she certainly would have
had a decent night.
 
She never stopped to
consider staying outside for the night.
 
She had become far too used to the luxurious comfort of a soft mattress
and warm blankets to consider even briefly being outdoors again.

She squared her
shoulders and resolutely marched towards the solid front door, tugging on the
bell three times.
 
Within moments the door
was opened by an officious looking butler, who was clearly unimpressed at
unannounced callers.

“Yes?”
 
Isobel chose to ignore his condescending
glare as he raked her from head to foot with his icy stare.

“Sir Hubert
Williams please,” her voice was muffled by the thickness of the material
covering her mouth.
 
           
She knew he was considering slamming
the door in her face and quickly interjected. “Tell him it’s Izzy
Davenport.”
 
Deliberately leaving out her
title gave her some small measure of disguise.

“
Izzy
Davenport?”
 
The
Butler’s eyes remained impassive as he squinted down at her.
 
Clearly the name rang bells with him as
without further hesitation, the door was opened wide and she was beckoned to
enter.

Immediately
warmth suffused her icy toes and she only just resisted the urge to sigh in
pleasure.
 
The house smelt heavenly of
home baking and wood smoke.
 
It smelt
like a home.
 
Isobel felt a pang of
homesickness.
 
She longed to have a house
like this she could share with Dominic.
 
How wonderful it would be to share such cosy rooms like this with
him.
 
To sit in front of the fire in an
evening, and share their experiences of the day before retiring to bed, their
children tucked up warmly in their own beds upstairs.
 

“Ma’am?”
 
Isobel’s thoughts were drawn towards the now
more friendly countenance of the butler as he stood in the shadows of the
hallway.
 
Nodding in thanks she followed
him into the small drawing room towards the rear of the house.
 

“
Izzy
?”
 
Hubert didn’t hide his shock, but immediately enveloped her in a warm
hug the moment she entered the room and removed her cap.

“Hello Hubert,”
Isobel murmured momentarily choked by the warmth of the welcome.
 
“I am so sorry to call upon you so late and
so unannounced.
 
It is very bad mannered
of me.”
 
As she stood back she was
shepherded forwards towards the woman now standing beside the hearth, smiling
at them.

“Don’t worry
about it, my dear.
 
As unconventional as
ever I see!”
 
Hubert murmured, eyeing her
masculine attire with a shake of his head as he waved her to a seat.
 

“Hello my
dear.”
 
Martha Williams stood beside the
fireplace.
 

“Hello
Martha.”
 
Isobel murmured moving forwards
for a brief hug.
 
“Please accept my
apologies for my rudeness.”
 
    

“Nonsense dear,
you are welcome here anytime.”
 
Martha murmured
waving her down into an armchair besides the fireplace.

“You are looking
much better than the last time I saw you.”
 
Hubert’s observation was kindly and matter of fact.
 
After all, the last time he had seen her she
had been practically half dead.
 

“My
circumstances have changed dramatically since the last time I was here.”
 
Isobel murmured softly.
 

“I know
,
I have met your husband.
 
A good, fine standing man if ever I met one.”
 
Hubert replied, wondering what on earth had
happened to bring this woman to his home alone and unchaperoned.
 
Her husband hadn’t seemed the kind of man who
would allow his wife to be so wayward.

Knowing they
were waiting for an explanation, Isobel briefly recounted the events of the
past few days, up to and including revealing the false marriage certificate
hidden in the pocket of her cloak.