Lady Isabel must be secured, and he would topple over any societal niceties to see it done.
There was not much traffic on the roads and so far he made good time. He’d change horses at the next inn.
As the sun lowered itself beyond the trees and dusk settled on the landscape, a fine carriage barreled past him at top speed. He did not wonder at it. A carriage so well-appointed would not like to be traveling after dark. He hoped for their sake that they reached their destination quickly and were well-armed in the meantime.
Harry turned his attention to what lay ahead.
He had proposed to Lady Isabel once and been refused. He had no intention of being refused again.
This proposal would be far different. This time, he would talk some sense into her head and demand that she stop allowing the fear of poverty to make all her decisions for her.
He would be in Town in less than an hour. He must succeed.
*
Carlson did notlike to convey bad news to the duchess. She was not a lady who brooked bad news of any sort, as she tended to take it as a personal affront. Even to tell her of some lack in the grocery order could be a trial.
But this? Lady Isabel running off to Hertfordshire?
He did not know the cause of the girl’s flight and he dearly hoped it was her father on his deathbed, as he could not see any other reason that would at all satisfy the duchess.
Further, a grave illness or calamity could not be laid at his door. It was not his fault. Even further, he had done his best to stop her. He’d warned Lady Isabel in the strictest terms of a thunderous reverse windage approaching, so if her carriage overturned on the road, that could not be his fault either.
Though, if the note she’d left for the duchessdidconcern a grave illness or calamity, what did Miss Thompson have to do with it? Why was a letter going toher?
The idea that her charge had set off with nary a look back would be bad enough for the duchess to take in. But Lord Lymington’s parents were here. There was supposed to be a match.
Was it called off?
Carlson had been sitting on the bench in the great hall, attempting to gather his thoughts and fortify himself for what was to come.
No, not what was to come. What washere.
The duchess’ carriage had arrived.
*
Isabel was atonce relieved and terrified to be turning down her father’s drive.
The relief came from getting off the turnpike road, as it had got very dark. There was only a quarter moon and despite her assurances to Betsy that the roads in this area were quite safe, she was not certain that was entirely true.
Now that her growing fear of highwaymen had abated, a new fear rose up to replace it.
What on earth would she say to Mr. Vance?
It would be to her to do the talking, she thought. It had been her that had refused him and now it was her come to say she’d changed her mind.
What would he make of it?
Certainly, if he’d wished to walk away and think no more of her, he would not have walked right into her father’s house.
This first meeting would be awkward though, there was no getting round it.
But who cared for awkward! She was to see him! She must trust she would know what to say when she did first lay eyes upon him.
The carriage turned down her father’s drive and Isabel instantly noticed it was far wider than it had been. All the undergrowth that had been encroaching on it had been cut back. It no longer had the appearance of being abandoned.
The house came into view and it took Isabel’s breath away.
