Page 22 of The Baron’s Halo

“Oh, that is when we lived in the North, in Carlisle. That was Mr. Devereaux’s home.” Mrs. Grey peered around, as if afraid someone might overhear her. “We lived there on his estate until his tragic death when Isabelle was ten. His mother is still there, Isabelle’s grandmother, although she’s old and infirm.”

“And is she Isabelle’s only other relation?” Sandy shot a glance to Yule, who shrugged.

“Yes, there’s no one else.”

“Then that must be it.” Sandy’s heart surged with hope.

“Doubtful.” Yule shook his head. “If her grandmother lives so far away, it’s unlikely Isabelle would have had the means to take a train, much less a carriage, on such short notice. Where would she get the funds?” Yule had remained in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. Every so often, he’d glance over his shoulder into the corridor, as if to check to see if anyone was coming. So far, Captain Grey had not put in an appearance.

“That is true.” Her mother hung her head. “In any case, I doubt Isabelle would attempt to make that long journey by herself.”

Sandy wasn’t so sure of that.

“And as you say, she would not have had funds with her…Oh!” Mrs. Grey’s hand went to her throat, staring at Sandy intently. “I suggested she take a purse of gold coins with her, to throw from the carriage as you drove through the city streets. A celebration, you know.”

Sandy and Yule exchanged a look.

“If she did take money with her…”

“Then more than likely, she’s on her way to Carlisle this minute.” Sandy was torn between anger and worry that she had done something so foolhardy as to travel alone, and relief that he’d finally discovered where Isabelle had gone. “We’ll go check the train station now.”

“The last train north left half an hour ago.” Yule snapped to attention. “And I believe I hear your husband approaching, madam.” He grabbed Sandy’s shoulder and they turned to go.

Almost out the door, Sandy turned back to the pale woman weeping on the sofa. “Do you have any idea, ma’am why she would have run from me?”

The little woman shook her head and stared at him, utterly defeated. “She was running toward you, my lord. Toward an escape to a better life. What changed her mind, I cannot imagine.”

“Sandy.” Yule tipped his head toward the front door and Sandy left. He didn’t understand why Isabelle had run any more than her mother. But when he finally reached her, he would bloody well find out.

Chapter Nine

Carlisle, England

October 2

The cozy parlor in her Grandmother Devereaux’s manor house—the house Isabelle had been born and grew up in until she was ten years old—on the outskirts of Carlisle had always seemed a place of refuge during the years after her father died, when her mother moved them to London. She’d been allowed to visit once each year, until Mama married Ambrose. Since then, she’d thought about her grandmother’s house often, a refuge when things got truly bad at home. It certainly had proved a blessing now.

She and Grandmama sat before a warm fire taking tea and discussing everything but the most obvious questions—what had happened and what was she going to do now? Isabelle had turned up on the doorstep last evening, surprising her grandmother, who took the news that her granddaughter had jilted her fiancé and was here without clothes or money in her stride. Today Grandmama had the bedchambers searched for cast-off clothing, gathering a motley group of garments that would have to serve her granddaughter for the moment. Now, Isabelle feared, her grandmother would demand to be told what was going on. That story was going to be difficult for many reasons, not the least of which was that each time she thought about Sandy and the life they might have had, she tuned up to cry.

“Will Captain Grey acquire another ship and set sail once more?” Grandmama sipped her special blend of Oolong and Congou black tea with milk and plenty of sugar.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know, Grandmama. Once he appeared in London, I took care to stay as far away from him as possible.” Isabelle took a small sip of tea. Her stomach had been roiling ever since she ran from the duke’s townhouse. She’d scarcely eaten anything since she arrived in Carlisle, save tea and toast. “I can only pray he does, for Mama’s sake as well as mine. I will not return to London until he has gone.”

“I hope that is possible, my dear. You know you are welcome here as long as you live. Indeed, the property will come to you upon my death. But as you have not yet reached your majority, I cannot legally keep you from him, much as I would wish to.” She sniffed. “If only I possessed a weapon, I’d make certain the man could never lay a hand on you again.” Her grandmother was one of the only people Isabelle had confided in about her stepfather’s brutality. “I haven’t shot a gun in years, but I remember how to pull the trigger well enough.”

“I should be fine hidden here for a while. They do not know where I have gone, so they will not come looking for me. Especially not all the way up here. I’m praying night and day that he will simply ride his wave of notoriety until he can set sail again. Certainly it will be too much trouble to journey all the way up here just for me.” Unfortunately, she didn’t believe that in the least.

“Some men seek absolute control over a woman.” Grandmama pursed her lips, then took a sip of tea. “Those are the ones like your stepfather who feel threatened by women. It is not enough for them to have legal control. They must punish them physically as well, to persuade themselves they are master in their house.” The old woman shook her head, her face a dark frown. “How your mother went from my son, who would have died rather than harm a woman, to this heartless beast is unimaginable.” She raised her cup to her lips, then set it down again. “I would not be surprised if your father’s death didn’t unhinge Miranda’s mind. I see no other explanation for her to marry Grey.”

So many things would have been different had Papa not succumbed to cholera eight years ago. She remembered her father with so much love. A kind, funny, and loving man. Very much like… A chill shivered down Isabelle’s spine. She refused to think about Lord MacKay now. After her unexpected appearance, she’d told her grandmother something of her courtship with Sandy and the abandoned wedding. After that brief explanation, she’d refused to speak of him. She didn’t want to think of him, or what might have been, had circumstances been different.

“In the event Captain Grey does come here to take me back to London, we must have a plan to hide me, because I will not go back with him, Grandmama.” The mere thought of going anywhere with Ambrose Grey set Isabelle into a panic. “Is there somewhere you can send me, some place he’d never think to look?” Desperation welled up inside her, making her shake until her teacup rattled in its saucer. “We must think, Grandmama.”

“There’s a gentleman at the door, ma’am.”

Isabelle’s cup and saucer crashed to the floor. The maid had opened the door so softly, Isabelle hadn’t heard her until she spoke.

“Who is this gentleman, Davis? Let the cup alone.” Her grandmother was brooking no nonsense today. “Did he give a name?”