“I had other things on my mind, although a crest does impress.My name is Jack De’Ath.”He used the name only very occasionally, but for some reason he wanted to give his rescuer the version nearest the truth.
Her eyebrows rose.“Not one of the Isbourne De’Aths?I didn’t know there were any left.Apart from the duke.”
“The Duke of Death?”Jack said boldly.“He certainly doesn’t acknowledge the connection.If he is still alive.”
“Oh, he is,” the lady said unexpectedly, preventing him from changing the subject as he intended.“Or at least he was a year or so ago.My brother knew him at Oxford.”
The duke blinked.He hadn’t known anyone at Oxford apart from the tutors and doctors and chaplains who had travelled with him, plus a college professor or two.And Amy who had cleaned his rooms.
“Well,” the lady continued, as though she perceived his scepticism, “perhapssawhim at Oxford would be more accurate.Barty glimpsed him occasionally surrounded by his entourage, poor boy, but never spoke to him.No one did.”
Poor boy.The description set his teeth on edge for some reason.There were times he had felt sorry for himself, but other people’s pity was intolerable.Particularly hers.
She said, “There was anon ditin London in the spring that his grace was dead—”
“At last,” Isbourne interpolated.
“As you say.And that the family were keeping it quiet so that the estate could be maintained and all the pensions paid as before.”
“Amusing,” Jack said.
“Do you think so?”
Was that disappointment in her languid voice?At any rate, there was silence until she spoke again.
“Are you travelling far, Mr.De’Ath?”
Relieved by the change of subject and wishing he had used a different surname after all, Jack said vaguely, “I have not decided.”
She blinked.“You have no destination in mind?”
“I do,” he admitted.“I’m just not sure how long I should take to get there.”
Again, amusement sparked through the weariness in her eyes.“So you just go where the spirit takes you?Good for you.One should not be wedded to custom—London for the Season, Brighton for summer, visiting friends and relatives in the autumn—and yet so many of us do it.”
“Why?”he asked.
She shrugged.“Habit, boredom, company.And occasionally, the unavoidable responsibility—you are lucky if you have none of those.”
“I am escaping them, temporarily.I should probably go home soon.”Or at least write to the uncles to prevent any hue and cry for him, or even a repeat of the rumours of his death that the lady had mentioned.He stirred and met her gaze so suddenly that he surprised a warm, wistful expression on her face.His heart gave a funny little bound because she was looking at him, though he suspected she did not actually see him, just her own private thoughts.
“You never did tell me your name,” he remarked.
She sat forward a little, extending one languid, gloved hand.“Tabitha Lisle.Such a good name for a widow, is it not?Old and fluffy like everyone’s favourite great aunt.Or cat.”
Hastily, he took her slender fingers and nodded over them which was as much courtesy as one could manage while seated in a coach.He hoped it covered his unease, for Lisle was the family name of the Earl of Sark and therefore of the woman he was expected to marry.And it could be no co-incidence that they were travelling in the vague direction of the earl’s country seat.
Perhaps Tabitha was the widow of one of old Sark’s sons.It was amazing how many people seemed to have died before Jack.
An even more alarming thought struck him.Could this beLily, up to mischief and giving a name as misleading as his own?He could see no discernible likeness to the child he had met, but it had been a long time ago and his own memory was likely to be clouded.
This woman, Tabitha, was young but not girlish.He did not feel competent to guess her age, but surely an unmarried girl of such rank would not be travelling unchaperoned?No, she must be the widow she claimed to be.
He must have stared too long, for a tired, cynical smile curled her lips.“Yes, I amthatLisle, the Damned Dowager of Sark, the Wicked Widow herself.But you may safely release my hand.I shan’t use it to importune or seduce.”
He let her go at once, but he was not shocked by her blatant little speech, as she clearly intended him to be.There was too much challenge in it.
“Why do people call you those things?”he asked.
