How could she not? This man, Harry Vance, he could do anything. He could achieve anything. Why had she ever worried about putting herself in his hands?
“You dare what?” her maid asked hesitantly.
“Betsy, go downstairs and tell Carlson we require one of the duchess’ carriages this instant. We go to Hertfordshire in all haste.”
“Now?” Betsy said. “We’ll be traveling in the dark by the end of it.”
“Only the end, though. We will be close to my own neighborhood and the roads are safe enough there. But we must hurry!”
“I’ll have to pack—”
“No, there is no time to pack. I will gather some things and write the duchess a note. Order the carriage!”
Betsy was galvanized by Isabel’s renewed energy and rushed out the door.
Isabel scribbled a hasty note to the duchess and threw some clothes into a valise. She then took some minutes composing two other letters and folded one inside the other.
She hurried down the stairs.
Now that she’d made this bold decision, she could not allow anything to stand in her way. She must be off before the duchess arrived home and attempted to dissuade her. Or outright forbid her.
Though, she was of a mood this moment that she did not think the queen herself could forbid her with any effectiveness.
As she reached the great hall, she did not find the duchess there to attempt to stop her, but she did find Carlson.
He was pacing back and forth. “Lady Isabel, this is madness! What will the duchess say? You must stay and hear her thoughts.”
Isabel took a deep breath. “It may be, as you say, madness. Nevertheless, I am going. I have been far too sensible for far too long.”
She laid her note on the hall table. “Please see that Her Grace gets this as soon as she arrives home. She has been most kind and I do not wish to disturb her peace in any manner. Though I find I must.”
She put another note into Carlson’s hands. “This is to be sent with a footman right away, delivered to Miss Thompson. She lives in Bedford Square, I do not know the number, but her father is Viscount Merdon.”
“It is too dangerous to leave on such a journey now,” Carlson said. “You will not have been aware of it, but the weather is to grow very terrible in the next hours.”
Isabel glanced out a window and of course there was not a cloud in the sky.
Betsy said, “Not more of your whales and dolphins, Mr. Carlson.”
Carlson drew himself up. “If you must know the technical terms, Betsy the farmer’s daughter, it is to be a thundering reverse windage. Sea creatures have nothing to do with it. It is a migration of birds that will bring it in!”
“We will take our chances,” Isabel said. She heard the clip-clops of the carriage and said, “Let us be off.”
As she ran down the front steps, she heard Betsy say to Carlson, “A migration of birds? Heaven help us.”
They were into the carriage in a thrice and though Rumson appeared exceedingly dubious on the box, they were off.
*
Harry had setoff directly from Bertridge’s house. Bertridge, ever sensible, had caught up to him just as he’d leapt on his horse and had loaned him a loaded pistol. If a highwayman were so foolish as to try his luck, it would be the last luck he ever tried.
He had a lady to see in Town and he must see her before it was too late. He could not know the duchess’ plans this evening. With any luck, they would be at home—Lady Isabel, the duchess, and Lymington’s parents.
He would be direct with them all. Lymington was not the right choice for Lady Isabel and Lady Isabel was not the right choice for Lymington. Then, if Lymington happened to be there, he would send him off to find Miss Thompson.
If they werenotat home, he’d shake their location out of Carlson and set off after them.
He really did not care what sort of scene he made in the process.
