Carefully placing her singed book on the table she stood up and walked across to pull the bell strap. When the footman appeared she gave her instructions. “Go upstairs and see if the bed chamber being prepared for me is ready, I wish to retire.”
She could not resume her place, needed to be as far away as possible from her husband. Music would soothe her and the pianoforte was at the far end of the drawing-room. She needed no extra candlelight, she could play her favourite sonata from memory. Settling onto the piano stool she raised the lid and ran her fingers over the keys. Soon she was lost in the melody, her distress slipping away as the beauty of the music enveloped her.
Alexander slumped back into his chair. He’d seen the accusation in her eyes. That little bastard Bentley had told her about Gloria. When Lady Fulbright had invited him back to her home he had accompanied her, gone inside and dismissed his carriage. However that was as far as it had got, he’d changed his mind and told her the liaison was over, irrevocably so.
He’d not even removed his beaver or his topcoat, had left the house no more than three minutes after entering it and walked home regretting the impulse that had made him accept the offer in the first place. Someone had seen him go in and drawn their own conclusions. He did not blame Isobel for believing the worst, had he not just told her he came from a long line of philandering dukes?
He closed his eyes letting the sound of the piano wash over him. Then he was on his feet limping softly towards the far end of the room from which the glorious sound was coming. Why had Isobel never played for him like this? He’d no idea she was so talented; in fact, if he was honest, he barely knew the woman he’d married so precipitously. This was another serious omission in his part.
He positioned himself against the wall where he could see her face and watch her hands moving confidently up and down the keys. Her eyes were closed; she was lost in a world of her own— somewhere he could not reach her. Her glorious hair had grown and now curled around her face in a russet cap emphasizing the beauty of her magnificent green eyes. Her face was thinner than he remembered. Despite the growing mound of her pregnancy she was obviously losing weight elsewhere.
This was his fault as was everything else that had befallen her. Whatever she wanted from now on he would not quibble, would make no demands on her of any sort and let her find happiness where she could. She had loved him once and maybe in a year or two, when she saw he was completely reformed, she might love him again.
Isobel finished the sonata and slowly came back to her surroundings. A slight sound beside her made her turn her head but there was no one there - she must have been mistaken. With a sigh she closed the piano. Her room must be ready by now.
Alexander was standing by the fire his eyes alight with admiration. “I had no idea you could play so brilliantly, my dear. You’re a virtuoso; I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that piece played so well.”
“Thank you, it’s a great favourite of mine. Music has always been a solace; I can lose myself, forget the world around me when I’m playing.”
Mary appeared at the door looking somewhat flustered. “Your chamber is ready, my lady. Shall I send up a supper tray?”
“No, thank you, I need nothing else tonight. Have you found somewhere for his grace to sleep?”
Her housekeeper glanced nervously at Alexander. “I’m afraid the only chamber available isn’t really suitable, but it’s the only one that isn’t leaking apart from the room you’re occupying, my lady.”
He nodded. “It matters not where I sleep, Watkins, I shall be leaving at first light tomorrow.” He stared at Isobel daring her to contradict, to tell him he was not fit enough to ride.
This was his decision, she would not gainsay him. “In which case, Mary, make sure breakfast is available at dawn.” She smiled briefly at her husband. “As you’ll be leaving before I rise, I bid you a safe journey, Alexander.” She did not add she hoped he would return soon to visit.
When, heavy eyed, she came down the next morning she discovered he had already departed. The snow had all but gone, a watery sun lit up the soggy park. Alexander was mad to leave on horse-back, but he was a man grown and well able to manage his own affairs without her interference. It might be several more days before the roads were passable and his valet arrived with the carriage. Therefore, with so much tension between them she was relieved he’d chosen to go.
Even the dogs were subdued. They moped about the place as if their best friend had departed not someone they had only known a few days. The fine weather meant repairs could be done to the roof and the other bedrooms with damaged ceilings. Sam liaised with the estate manager and soon the place was filled with the sound of hammering and banging as a dozen local men got busy.
She had insisted the employment was given to those who most needed it. Work was scarce everywhere at the moment. With the price of corn so high life was difficult for the less fortunate. Resigning herself to spending the next few days with the house shrouded under holland covers to protect it from the dust and debris created by the workmen, Isobel retreated to the small sitting-room at the rear of the house.
Into the middle of this chaos Duncan arrived with Alexander’s missing luggage, closely behind him was Bentley who had been obliged to spend the past few nights at a disreputable roadside inn where he’d met with the most unfortunate accident.
“Mr Bentley, how distressing for you. To have your belongings stolen in that way is beyond belief. I am so sorry for your misfortune.” The young man was no longer dressed immaculately, nor was his hair oiled or his shirt points freshly starched. Now he was a bedraggled sight, looked as if he had been sleeping in his clothes for the past week, which it turned out was not far short of the truth.
“I do beg your pardon for returning here like this, your grace, but I had no option. The robbers left me with no money to pay my shot. They took my trunk, and everything I own was in it. I was obliged to leave my fob-watch behind as surety. I can’t return to London as I am.”
“Of course you can’t. You must remain here until you have fully recovered from your horrible experience. Unfortunately I don’t believe any of Alexander’s garments will fit you, but no doubt we can find something for you to change into for now.”
He looked pathetically grateful. He was no longer the bombastic young man who had arrived on her doorstep unannounced and unwanted, the previous week. Her heart went out to him. He must stay with her until something could be done about his wardrobe, but where he would sleep was a conundrum she would leave Mary to solve.
“Your grace, I do beg your pardon for intruding a second time. I see the house is under covers. Has there been some sort of disaster here as well?”
“The roof collapsed under the weight of the snow and it is being repaired at this very moment. This means you’ll be obliged to sleep in the nursery, but Alexander did so without complaint.”
“I thought his grace had returned to London.”
She could hardly tell him Alexander had galloped back because of him and had also sustained a serious injury in the process. The poor man had suffered enough indignities already these past days. “His horse cast a shoe and he was obliged to turn back and then the weather closed in and he stayed until the beginning of the week. We must send word to Grosvenor Square that you’re safe here with me. His grace will be worried when he finds you absent.”
Hiding her smile behind her hand she turned away. Alexander was more like to be enraged his heir had returned to Newcomb than worried he was not in Town with him. Bentley was harmless enough now the starch had left his person as well as his apparel, and might even be amusing company for however long it took to find a tailor to replace his missing clothes.