Isabel was exceedingly flattered, though determined not to show it. “Well, I am glad the thief was caught and others will be saved from having their belongings ripped from their grasp in broad daylight.”
“Everyone will be safe enough from the little villain,” Mr. Vance said, “but I did not turn him over to the magistrate.”
“You did not?” Isabel asked.
“He was hungry and abandoned. He’d been stealing bread and such to keep himself alive. It then occurred to him that if he stole something bigger, he would not have to be out stealing every day. He imagined he could get at least two pounds for thecrown, as he called it. He informed me that he would insist on two pounds and not a farthing less.”
“Oh, goodness,” Isabel said, laughing.
“In any case,” Mr. Vance said, “I implore you not to tell the duchess, but I have taken the lad into my stables so he is no longer forced to wildly misjudge the value of items he might sell for bread. If she knew, she would likely send the magistrate to my door and the fellow would have no chance at all.”
“That was very kind of you to do,” Isabel said. “Of course, I will say nothing of it. Though, I hope he does not end up stealing from you.”
“I think not. A boy like that knows very well when a chance has fallen in his lap. He will not throw it away. As well, my coachman will guide him as a father. A rather stern father. Ben, that is his name, will turn out quite all right.”
It was so generously done! The boy had caused no end of trouble and she assumed Mr. Vance had been quite vexed by the time he’d caught up with him.
“I think you must know,” he said, “that I bargained with the duchess to be allowed on your card. Though, had she refused I would have asked you anyway.”
Isabel had not expected him to be so direct. She did not know what to say.
“I’ve been thinking about our conversation at the duchess’ dinner,” he went on. “I imagine you seek stability as a response to the instability you have experienced thus far.”
“Yes,” she said, quietly. “That is so.”
“Though,” he said, “a lofty title will not protect you from that. Had it, you would not have experienced instability to begin.”
“Any family may experience instability,” Isabel said slowly, “from any number of causes. But regaining that stability often requires other family members, both close and distant, to step in and assist.”
“And that wide web of connected relatives is what I do not have.”
“I suspect not, though of course I cannot know it certain, Mr. Vance.”
“Well, I do not mind admitting that I do not. My father married a local lady in our neighborhood. My mother was every bit a lady and very well respected, but she did not extend our reach in any particular way.”
Isabel nodded. She had been sure that was the case. His family had no net.
“But I must say,” he went on, “that I do not have the need for that sort of help.”
“Perhaps not now, but in future…”
“Not ever,” Mr. Vance said resolutely. “With good management, my estate will continue to provide and I intend on managing it well.”
“It is precarious though,” Isabel said, “to depend upon one man’s efforts. What if you were to die? What would happen to your family then? Would the estate go to a trusted and reliable younger brother?”
Mr. Vance looked uncomfortable and did not answer. Isabel thought it was not the idea of his dying that perturbed him. There was no younger brother who might be counted on to do his duty and properly look after an older brother’s widow. The estate was entailed and would go to some unknown and unpredictable person, she was certain of it. His widow would have nothing but her jointure and there was no more distant relation who might take the lady in.
It felt like the final nail in the coffin of her not very sensible inclinations. Mr. Vance’s prospects were not just a little at risk for instability. He was a potential disaster. She must dismiss him from her mind. Even if she were to talk herself into going forward with someone in his circumstances, she knew herself well enough. She could not live with the day-to-day terror of the sword of ruin and poverty hanging over her head.
“For one thing, Lady Isabel, I have not the least intention of dying!”
“Nobody ever does,” she’d said softly.
Mr. Vance, seeming to sense the conversation could not find any good direction to proceed in, changed the subject and they talked of more commonplace things for the rest of the dance.
Isabel was glad of it, though sorry for it too. She might have to dismiss him from her mind, but as she was dancing with him now, there was no reason she could not enjoy it. And she did enjoy it. He could be very amusing when he wished, and he asked her a lot of questions that led to merry conversation. She suspected there would come a time when the memory of this moment would be something she might pull out to examine on a lonely and rainy afternoon.
She parted from him regretfully, but with purpose in mind. Isabel paid close attention to her next partners, looking for that spark. That something.
