He would not have thought Lymington would take things in hand so quickly. He’d imagined the fellow would need at least another season to get to it.
Lady Bertridge, no doubt sensing his fears, hurried on. “There has not been anything announced,” she said.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. An announcement was the only thing that could not be undone. Or at least, not undone without causing a very great scandal.
Lymington’s parents had probably arrived for an entirely different reason.
“I expect we will hear any day,” Lady Easton said. “The duchess has been quite set on Lord Lymington, right from the first.”
“But it is not the duchess who would marry Lymington,” Harry said. He knew it was a step too far, but it was out before he could decide to keep it in.
“He is to be a duke,” Lady Easton said with a sniff, as if that were really all that need be said about it.
“Mr. Vance,” Lady Bertridge said. “It appears that Lord Lymington’s parents are staying with the duchess.”
Harry leapt up. “Then an announcement is in the works,” he said.
“That is what I fear,” Lady Bertridge said.
“You ought to go tomorrow,” Lord Bertridge said. “See if you can stop the thing.”
“Tomorrow?” Harry asked, his voice incredulous. “I’m goingnow.”
He looked toward the doors, hoping to find a butler or footman lurking there so he could don his coat and be off.
“The sun will set before you reach London,” Lord Bertridge said. “You will not do Lady Isabel any good if you’re lying dead on the side of the road, having encountered highwaymen. Set off at first light.”
“First light?” Harry asked. “What are they doing tonight, though? All having a cozy dinner? No, I will go now and explain to Lady Isabel that her family ship has been righted. Then, I will explain to Lymington that he is to cease being a fool and marry Miss Thompson.”
As he strode from the room, he heard Lady Easton say, “And who, pray, is Miss Thompson?”
“I do not know,” Lady Bertridge said laughing, “but I believe she is shortly to become Lady Lymington.”
As the front doors were opened for him, he thought he faintly heard Lady Bertridge say, “In any case, I have sent a letter ahead of him.”
Chapter Eighteen
Isabel had justcome in from shopping with Betsy. She fully intended to rest for an hour or so before going downstairs again. The duchess was out making calls with Lord Lymington’s duchess. Isabel thought they must make a formidable pair, and she also thought their squiring about together would set tongues in motion. People would say there was to be a match and people would be right.
The Duchess of Hastings had come right out and told her that her son would propose at the Willistons’ rout this evening.
She had said, “I’ve told him to stop dithering and go forward. He’ll do it, he does not like to cross me. Though, do not expect to be swept off your feet. If he can manage to just get the words out, it will be a job well done.”
Isabel had thought silently that there were no words Lord Lymington could compose that would sweep her off her feet, even if he had been the sort who could compose something elegant.
She did not love him. She was quite sure she never would. The cause was not his person, but that her heart had already been given.
Still, she would do what was sensible. Far into the future, when she had grown used to the idea that she no longer need fear poverty, she would appreciate that she stood on such steady ground. She would thank herself for doing what was necessary to get there.
There would be so much else besides romance to engage her. There would be children and society and amusements. There would be a household to manage. A real household. Not one that only consisted of poor old Rogers breaking teapots right and left.
Of course, it would be a trial to get to all those things. She did not relish what must be done with Lord Lymington to get those children. Shereallydid not relish that the Duchess of Hastings had insisted they spend their first married years in her house.
She found the lady overbearing and did not look forward to her company.
Betsy hurried in with the various packages that had been gathered from a full day of going in and out of shops.
“This came,” she said, holding out a letter.
