“How do you propose to fix her father?” Smith said, beginning to look alarmed.
“Pack me a bag, and one for you too. We leave for Hertfordshire in the morning. And get me pen and paper. I will send a message to Bertridge by fast horse. He is that idiot earl’s neighbor.”
*
Isabel had searchedthe card room for the duchess and then blurted out some nonsense of having a terrible headache. The duchess had most likely paid more attention to her general state than she did her words and hurried her to the front hall. The carriage was called, a vinaigrette waved under her nose, and a glassful of sherry was pressed into her hands.
Once inside the carriage, Isabel could not control herself any longer. The duchess was by turns frightened at the violence of her outburst and angry at whoever had caused it.
That was, until Isabel was able to choke out the real case of it. Lord Lymington had hinted that his father and mother soon came to have a look at her, and she was certain he would ask. Then Mr. Vancehadasked, and she’d been sensible and refused him.
She could see well enough that, while the duchess was all kindness over her upset, she did not really understand the cause of it. To her, Mr. Vance was an unimportant inconvenience. To Isabel, he was the man who broke her heart. And she had broken his too, she suspected.
They had reached the house and the duchess had hurried her charge upstairs and sent Betsy for a hot cocoa.
As the maid hurried off, Isabel sat on the bed sobbing. She’d cried all the way home and was still crying. It felt as if she might weep all the rest of her life, though surely the tears would run out at some point.
“I know you feel the sting of it now, my dear,” the duchess said. “I have never approved of Mr. Vance, but I will give him his due. He is well-spoken and can be charming and is very pleasant to look at. I say nothing against all of that. Then, Lord Lymington is rather…Lord Lymington. But you have made the sensible choice, as all women must. Determining who to marry is determining the course of your life. We have no other card to play.”
Isabel nodded. She knew the duchess spoke the truth. In fact, she’d articulated it better than any of Isabel’s thoughts ever had. She’d made the right choice. It was her only card to play. It just felt terrible to have played it.
Betsy bustled in with a tray. Though the duchess had only asked for cocoa, Betsy had loaded it with the cup of cocoa, biscuits, and a brown bottle of some sort.
“Laudanum,” the duchess said. “Very good thought. It will help you to sleep, Isabel. Sleep is what you need just now.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, Your Grace,” Betsy said, “I’ll get Lady Isabel into her nightclothes and sit with her until the spoonful has taken its effect.”
“You are very good, Betsy,” the duchess said. She squeezed Isabel’s fingers and said, “Put yourself in the hands of your maid. Trust that you have used your head to make a rational decision. Things will not seem quite so awful in the morning.”
Isabel had nodded, though she did not have particularly high hopes for the morning. For now, she would be comforted to cry on Betsy’s shoulder.
And she did cry. Two hours later, a second dose of laudanum was given and that finally did have an effect. Her mind grew foggy as she watched the scenes pass by, all of the future she’d regretfully left by the side of the road. Her head had prevailed, but had broken her heart in the process.
*
Lord Bertridge foldedthe note that had only minutes ago been given to him and went in search of his wife.
He found Caroline in her dressing room, resplendent in the last stages of her pregnancy. He was certain she grew more beautiful by the hour.
“Bertie,” she said, “I understood you were to set off early to have a look at how the new cheese-making equipment gets on.”
“So I was,” he said, kissing the top of his wife’s head. “However, I just got a note from Harry Vance. I have no idea what is coming our way.”
He handed the paper to his wife, and she unfolded it.
Bertridge—
The Earl of Somerdon must be straightened out once and for all. I do not know the details of how that gentleman has chosen to carry on, but I do know that he has done untold damage to his daughter. I will not stand for it. I will not tolerate it. I will see that irresponsible fellow set right myself.
Harry Vance
“Oh, I see,” Caroline said smiling. “Mr. Vance is in love.”
“Is that what it is?”
“Most assuredly,” Caroline said.
Seeing the rather befuddled expression on her lord’s face, she said, “Do not fret over it. Mr. Vance is certain to come to us and give us a more detailed explanation of what has occurred. It’s bound to be fascinating—not every gentleman is so bold as to confront a lady’s father.”
