"All right, Isabelle," I said with a sigh. "We will bring Lord Pembroke to you, but you will have to be patient while I arrange it." I sent a maid to draw a hot bath while Cécile led Isabelle upstairs.
"What will you do?" Margaret asked. "Can Colin help?"
"He's at his brother's in Richmond. We'll send for Jeremy instead and ask him to collect Lord Pembroke. You should write to him, Margaret. No one will think anything of his receiving a summons from you, and it will add nicely to the rumor of your growing attachment to each other. Don't say anything specific about why you want to see him. It will be best to have as little of this as possible in writing."
Davis dispatched the footman again, and in short order Jeremy was standing before us. "Brilliant!" he said when I told him our plan. "Pembroke will be eternally grateful. He's quite taken with the girl, you know."
After Jeremy departed to collect Lord Pembroke, Isabelle and Cécile returned to the library. Isabelle, dressed in one of my lacy tea gowns, looked much better composed after her bath and could hardly stop talking about the merits of the man she loved. Soon after we had eaten a light supper, the gentlemen arrived. Isabelle rushed to Lord Pembroke, who looked pleased, though a bit embarrassed, at this public display.
"Em," Jeremy began, taking my arm. "I understand you have a collection of Greek vases in your library. Would you be so good as to show them to me?"
"I suppose so," I said, noting that Cécile and Margaret had already fled the room and feeling not altogether comfortable with the notion of leaving the couple entirely alone. Jeremy gave Pembroke a jaunty salute and pulled me out the door.
"Having second thoughts about your role in the corruption of the youth of England?"
"Not exactly. I just don't want to leave her in a situation that could cause her more harm than good."
"Don't worry, darling. Pembroke's half-terrified and is not about to do anything improper. They'll have a kiss, and a good cry and all will be forgotten in the morning."
"Is he quite in love with her?" I asked.
"As much as any gentleman might be."
"Will he ask her to go to Gretna Green?"
"I don't think so. He made it clear to me that he's not interested in courting scandal."
"Then perhaps Isabelle is better off marrying Charles Berry. Pembroke can't be much devoted to her if he's willing to stand by and watch her marry another man."
"You are a romantic, aren't you?" He paused before the door to the library. "It's quite fetching." We entered the room, where Margaret and Cécile were in the thick of a game of chess. Jeremy sat beside Margaret, commenting on her every move. I pulled She by H. Rider Haggard off a shelf. With effort, I forced myself to follow the adventures of Ludwig Horace Holly and the exotic queen, Ayesha, She Who Must Be Obeyed, though all the while I was wondering if Lord Pembroke loved Isabelle enough to take her to Scotland. When an hour had passed, I put down the book, marched back to the drawing room and knocked loudly on the door, waiting a few moments before opening it. Pembroke, who looked very rumpled, was pacing furiously in front of the fireplace. Isabelle was crying harder than ever.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but I think that it's best if — "
I did not need to finish my sentence. Pembroke grabbed Isabelle's hand, kissed it with great emotion, and ran from the room. Isabelle looked as if her heart was shattered. She buried her face in a pillow she found on the settee and continued to sob. I sat next to her, gently rubbing her back. Cécile came in and said nothing for several minutes. At last, she pulled Isabelle from her supine position and began to speak in a very serious tone.
"What did Lord Pembroke say to you?"
"He told me I should marry Mr. Berry. I thought he loved me. How could he ask me to marry someone else?"
"He wants to protect you from scandal," I said, knowing full well that he was at least as concerned for himself as he was for her.
"I feel like such a fool. I thought he would beg me to go to Gretna Green."
"And would you have?"
"Of course I would." She stopped crying. "So Mr. Berry is forced upon me, and dreadful though that is, I know there is only worse to come, for someday my dear Tommy will have to marry, too. Would that I might die before having to see that." The tears began to flow again.
"It may not be for some time," I said, trying to encourage her. "Young gentlemen are rarely eager to settle down. When at last it happens, you may find that you've quite forgotten Lord Pembroke."
"I shall never forget him, and for that my husband will suffer. He will never have my affection."
"There are many such marriages, Isabelle," Cécile said. "You do not have to let yourself be miserable. Give yourself over to grief tonight, but no longer. After that, you will have to make your own happiness." I remembered Jeremy's comment about us being able to reach a mutually agreeable understanding. What a dreadful way that would be to live.
5
"I'm so sorry, madam," the maid said, wiping up the tea she had spilled on the table.
"Don't think on it another moment, Lizzie." The girl, newly hired by my housekeeper, seemed a bit nervous at finding herself part of such a large household. "I spill it myself more often than not and wonder why people insist upon serving hot tea in a heavy silver pot. It seems to me that whoever pours is doomed to fail." Ivy watched the maid, waiting to speak until she had left us alone.
"You are far too nice to your servants," she said.
"Lizzie's only been here a week or so. She's constantly going to the wrong rooms, showing up where she's not wanted, bringing me things that I haven't asked for, pouring tea when I ought to do it myself. I haven't the heart to scold her, though. She's so very young, and Mrs. Ockley is convinced that she'll do well once she's settled."
"She must learn to be competent as quickly as possible," Ivy said as she fiddled with the cup in front of her. She raised it to her lips, then returned it to the saucer without taking a sip. "I hardly know how to bring this up. Of course it is only a false rumor, but I fear..." Her pretty cheeks flushed pink when her eyes met mine.
"Oh, dear. What have I done now?"
"Have you and Colin quarreled?"
"Of course not. If we had, I would have ranted to you about it immediately. You know that."
"Well...Lady Elliott told my mother she has heard that you and Jeremy have been spending a considerable amount of time together."
"Jeremy is here quite often, but only to give the appearance of courting Margaret."
"Rumor has it that their relationship is intended only to hide that which he has with you."
"That is ridiculous," I said.
"I know it is. But several people have noticed that Colin has not been seen with you often lately, something that seems to add veracity to the story."
"Colin is immersed in his work. Furthermore — "
"Yes, but Emily, you are gaining a reputation as an eccentric who would prefer to spend her time buried in the library instead of on more...er...feminine pursuits."
"Excellent. I long to be eccentric."
"You know that I fully support your studies, but I do wish you would, perhaps, temper your approach to the Season. Would it be so awful to play the society game, just for a few months?"
"I never thought I would hear such criticism from you," I said. Ivy looked as if she would crumple. "Don't be upset, dear. I'm not angry." I was unable to continue, as Davis opened the door and announced Jeremy.
"I'm to meet Margaret here," he said, dropping into a chair after greeting the two of us with perfect politeness. "It's exhausting arranging these clandestine meetings for public consumption."