Duncan returned the following morning and Alexander was relieved to hand over the search for a suitable tailor to his capable manservant. The description of Bentley’s bedraggled appearance when he’d arrived at Newcomb amused him, but it did not make up for the fact Alexander had no recourse but to return to Newcomb.
Chapter Fourteen
Two days after Isobel had sent her plea for help to London she was returning from a brisk walk around the park with the dogs when yet another travelling carriage bowled around the curve of the drive. There was no doubting to whom this belonged for emblazoned on the handsome black paint-work was the crest of the Rochester dynasty.
She sincerely hoped Alexander had come to remove her guest who had taken to sulking in the drawing-room, his gloom pervading the whole house. It would seem without his sartorial elegance to bolster his self-confidence he was a pitiful creature indeed. No doubt the second less substantial coach contained the tailor come to measure Bentley for his new wardrobe. With a sigh she returned to the east wing glad all the rooms were now usable and she was safely installed in her own apartments.
Ebony and Othello shot off ahead of her somehow sensing who was in the carriage. By the time she made her way around to the turning circle in front of the main building Alexander had descended and was playing with her dogs. She could hardly credit this youthful gentleman with a ready smile for everyone could be the austere man she’d married what seemed like years ago.
“Good afternoon, my dear, you look enchanting. I expected to see you overwrought after all that has transpired these past few days.”
“I’m very well, thank you, sir. Surprisingly Bentley is far less intrusive this visit.”
“Where is he? I can’t wait to see him dressed in my castoffs. I’m sorry you have been bothered for a second time. I am here to organise his new wardrobe and then take him away.”
Isobel laughed. “He will be moping about in the drawing-room bewailing the fact that his clothes were stolen and he can’t return to town until he is properly dressed. He will also be complaining the tailor I discovered locally is worse than useless and that he will refuse to wear anything made by such a person.”
“He’ll wear what he’s damn well given and be grateful for it. However, I’ve brought his tailor with me in the second carriage. He has a selection of articles in the correct size for Bentley to choose from. He also has his pattern books and samples so will be able to go back to Town and start making up what’s needed.”
They strolled companionably around to the east wing where the front door was open and Mary and Bill were waiting to greet the duke. Two footmen rushed past to collect the baggage. Inside Alexander stared up at the ceiling enquiringly.
“Have you managed to repair the roof? Do I get to sleep in the nursery with Bentley?”
“You may relax, Alexander, everything is as it should be. If we are to continue to use this place for Mr Bentley, it must be re-roofed before next winter. However, it’s sound enough for now thank goodness.”
They agreed to meet up at dinner and she vanished to her own domain at the rear of the house leaving him to take care of matters with her less welcome guest. Hopefully both men would depart the following morning and her life would once more be calm and uneventful.
She paid particular attention with her appearance that night as she had two gentlemen to entertain. “Sally, I think you have done a splendid job altering my evening gown. It’s fortunate the high waistline is ideally suited to someone in my condition.”
“Emerald green silk is a perfect match for your eyes, my lady, and by removing the demi-train and adding a panel at the back there will be more than enough room to accommodate the baby over the next few months.”
Isabel’s hair was long enough to dress in a more elaborate style. She preferred to have it loose, but tonight she made the effort to appear as the Duchess of Rochester and not a country squire’s wife. “No, Sally, I won’t wear the emeralds. This is an informal occasion not a grand event.”
Disappointed, her maid returned the beautiful necklace to its velvet box. “I could wear the pearls I was given as my wedding gift then you could thread the smaller strand through my hair if you wish.”
“Yes, my lady, I shall do so at once.”
This was the first opportunity her abigail had had to show she was capable of dressing a duchess—up till now Isobel and worn the simple gowns best suited to her condition.
Despite the extra preparations she was on her way downstairs when the dinner gong sounded. She could hear voices in the drawing room. The gentlemen were before her. Bentley had asked if he might call her Cousin Isabel. Her lips twitched as she recalled Alexander’s terse reply to this impertinent suggestion, so things remained as they were. Formality would be observed until her husband decreed otherwise. She paused in the open door and he strolled in her direction, his toe curling smile still having the same effect even after all this time.
“Good evening, my dear. Permit me to say that you look enchanting tonight. That is my favourite gown and it suits you to perfection.”
She smiled and dipped in a shallow curtsy, he bowed and taking her hand raised it to his lips. She was uncomfortably aware Bentley was avidly observing this play between them. Gently removing her fingers she turned and nodded to the young man.
“Mr Bentley, I see your tailor has found you garments which meet with your approval. You look exactly as you did before.”
She heard a strange choking sound behind her; Alexander was doing his best not to laugh. Bentley preened and smoothed down his lurid cherry-pink and gold waistcoat.
Mr Smith knows exactly what I like; he had several outfits put by that fitted me perfectly. I feel I’ve returned to my old self. I’m glad you approve, my lady.”
Fortunately dinner was announced and she was saved from having to dissemble. Alexander offered his arm and she took it leaving Bentley to follow behind.
The dinner was served as she’d instructed, the removes were plain fare as fancy cooking did not suit her digestion at the moment. As the last cover was cleared she rose gracefully and nodded to both men. “I shall leave you to your port, gentlemen. No doubt you’ll join me in the drawing-room in due course.”
Both men had scrambled to their feet and Alexander pulled a face as she walked past. He would not dally. Not wishing to be trapped in further tedious banalities she removed to the pianoforte. Alexander had brought her several sheets of music from London and she was eager to try them out.
As always, once she started playing she became lost in the music and was unaware she had company until she finished and the final notes died away. The silence was shattered by raucous cheering and loud applause from Bentley.
“I say, your grace, that was excellent playing, I’ve never heard better.”
Closing the instrument she stood up. “Thank you, Mr Bentley, for your kind words. And thank you, Alexander, for bringing me the new piece. I did not have it perfectly this time, but practice will improve my performance.”
Once they were comfortably settled in front of the roaring fire Alexander leant back in his chair and addressed his cousin. “Bentley, you have yet to tell me exactly what took place at this inn. Also I need the name of the place so I can send your reckoning to them and recover your pocket watch.”
The man looked worried and fiddled with his exaggerated shirt points. “To tell you the truth, my lord, I misremember the name of the establishment. It was a filthy day, a positive blizzard blowing and the driver stopped at the first hostelry we came upon.” He paused and then his face lit up. “I have it. The coachman will be able to tell you exactly where it was, after all he could see where we were going.”