Isabel took it, always wondering if her father had any intention of writing her as, so far, he had not answered any of her letters.
It was from Lady Bertridge. Perhaps to say that the baby had come, knowing her father would not bother to mention a new addition to that family? Or not bother to mention anything at all?
Isabel opened it and scanned it. Then she read it again, as none of it seemed real. And yet, itwasreal. The lady had written in the plainest terms.
It was as if the whole world had suddenly blown apart. The reality she had painfully pieced together, bit by logical bit, was upended. Black seemed white, up was down, north was south, and nothing was as it had been.
“Oh no,” Isabel said softly.
“What is it?” Betsy asked. “Do you feel the beginnings of a headache?”
Isabel handed Betsy the letter.
My dear Isabel—
We miss you greatly in our little neighborhood and I miss our confidential conversations over tea. I had not thought I would have news to send you, other than the arrival of the baby, which has not yet occurred.
However, I was quite wrong in that assumption and must apprise you of the activities going on at your father’s estate. Mr. Vance arrived some weeks ago with the notion of putting your father to rights. Bertridge and I were not certain it could be done, and please excuse my bluntness for saying so. But Mr. Vance was determined and so we joined in on the scheme. You would not recognize your house as it is not at all as you left it.
Rogers has been retired and a full staff brought in, including Mr. Browning as the steward and Mrs. Redman as the cook. The stables have been repaired and stocked with a coachman, grooms, horses, and a carriage. Wood is being cut and already a great lot of it has been sold to provide ready money. Fields are being prepared for the next growing season and a dairy is being built.
The house sparkles from attics to wine cellars and the estate is a hive of activity.
All of this is due to Mr. Vance, who will not take no for an answer. Lord Somerdon has resigned himself to the idea that his steward is now in charge, and he causes far less trouble than he did in the beginning.
I write you all of this so that I may come to the most direct part of my letter. Mr. Vance has done all this because he is in love with you, and he is a fine man. I have heard via letter from Lady Langley that Lord Lymington’s parents stay with the duchess, clearly portending an engagement in the works. Isabel, do not make a mistake in this.
You have always been so sensible. Perhaps too sensible. Marriage is more than a contract and love is not to be underrated. I would have married Bertie if he were the local farrier and would have been happy to have done so.
I will see Mr. Vance this afternoon and apprise him of Lymington’s parents’ arrival. I hope it is not too late.
All my best,
Caroline
“My word,” Betsy said, handing the letter back to Isabel. “What will you do?”
“I do not know what to do,” Isabel said quietly. It was so much to take in. All the talk of where Mr. Vance might have gone…and all along he had been at her house with her father.
He knew what her fears were, she had not hidden them. He’d got on his horse and gone to Hertfordshire and strode into her father’s house to set it right. To remedy what had always haunted her.
So much was happening there! So much that should have been happening all along.
Mr. Browning had been brought on as the steward. If there were one man who could withstand her father’s complaints, it was the implacable Mr. Browning.
And then, Harry Vance loved her. She’d known that. Now he’d said so publicly, to a whole neighborhood of people, even though she’d rejected his suit.
Such determination!
“I’ll say one thing for Mr. Vance,” Betsy said, “that fella has what my ma would call the stick-to-it and step lively about him.”
“Yes, he does,” Isabel said.
“Well, this seems to be a real crossroads for you, Lady Isabel. Which way shall you go? Lord Lymington or Mr. Vance?”
Isabel’s heart pounded. She knew which direction shewishedto go. Did she dare, though?
She leapt up, filled with a sudden energy. “Of course I will dare!” she cried.
