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Authors: Elizabeth Bailey

Tags: #regency romance, #clean romance, #sweet romance, #traditional romance, #comedy of manners, #country house regency

VIscount Besieged (25 page)

BOOK: VIscount Besieged
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And,’ he pursued, with a gesture that encompassed her costume,
‘the peculiar circumstance of your choosing to wear a servant’s
gown, and mud all over your face.’


It
is not mud,’ Isadora said indignantly. ‘It is burnt cork, for the
purpose of making me look older.’

He affected to
examine her features more closely, frowning. ‘Yes, I suppose there
is something in that. Why must you look older?’


Because I am the housekeeper, of course. Great heavens,
Roborough, cannot you see what I am about? I have been making sure
that those people did not buy the house.’


Yes,
that much I had understood. I presume you succeeded?’


Yes,
I did. And now you may ring your peal over me as much as you wish,
but it will change nothing.’

He regarded her
silently for a moment or two. Then he said calmly, ‘I suppose you
think you have been very clever.’


I
do, as it chances,’ Isadora responded unthinkingly, and unable to
help a ripple of amusement escaping. ‘I pretended, you see, that
there was nothing amiss, and only let fall hints of such matters as
might serve to put them off.’ She giggled. ‘Poor Hampole nearly had
an apoplexy when I talked of ghosts coming through the
panelling.’


Ghosts?’


Yes,
but that was after my invention of wood beetles had failed to rouse
Mr Haltwhistle.’


Oh,
my God,’ gasped Roborough, and burst into laughter.

For a few
moments he was quite incapable of speech. For not only did this
escapade appear to him to be exquisitely humorous, in spite of its
devilish intent, but Isadora’s blank amazement at his reaction only
added to his amusement.

She could not
know it, but the very fact of her having chosen to thwart him in
this ridiculous fashion just today, when he had returned in a
spirit of the utmost humility, ready to do whatever he must to
patch up the hideous misunderstanding between them, was in itself
extremely funny. It was so typical to discover her in mischief such
as this. He ought to be angry. But his capacity to be angry with
Isadora was, for the present moment, exhausted. He was far too
anxious to make his peace with her after that dreadful day in the
library.

He had left here
in a mood of such violent resentment that he had doubted of ever
returning while Isadora remained on the premises. But that
ridiculous notion had melted, along with every vestige of fury,
when realisation had hit him on the journey. He had wanted to turn
back there and then. But he had recognised that would be both
impractical and foolish. For Isadora needed time to calm down
too—if there was ever to be anything between them that did not gnaw
his conscience and drive him into a state of mental
anguish.

He was glad, at
any rate, to find that she did not instantly return to her theme
begun in the library. He could only hope that, like his, her anger
had cooled over time. Although he would not put it past her to hark
back to that business any time she lost her temper. Which might be
at any moment, if he did not control his amusement.


Don’t—don’t look at me like that,’ he managed to say,
hiccupping on his mirth.


Like
what?’


As
if I am quite mad for laughing.’


Well, you are. After all, I have stopped the sale of the
house.’


I
know you have,’ he agreed, grinning, ‘and if you had your deserts
for such a prank there is no saying what I might not do to you. But
I can’t help but be amused by it.’


It
is not really a prank
,
Roborough,’ she objected. ‘You could
not seriously expect me to stand by and see my family ruined all
for your sake. Though I see how it must appear to you.’


I
seriously doubt that,’ he said drily, for she had no idea how it
appeared to him. In fact, seeing what she believed of him, he did
not blame her in the least. It only added to her manifold
attractions, if the truth be told. ‘However, I have to admit that
buyers who would be frightened off by such nonsense would very
likely have ended by not purchasing the property in any
event.’

Isadora gurgled.
‘Well, that was not quite all, you know.’

He raised his
brows. ‘Oh?’


Indeed,’ she went on with relish, unexpectedly delighted by
the thought that he was sharing her enjoyment, ‘it seemed as if
neither ghosts nor wood beetles had the power to frighten Mr
Haltwhistle off, although his wife would have been, I believe. Only
then she chose to become enamoured of the drawing-room, and I
thought I was quite undone. I could think of nothing at first to
counteract it, although indeed I made much of the army of gardeners
they would need to keep up the grounds. Then, by very good fortune,
I chanced upon the one thing that appears to be Mr Haltwhistle’s
bête noire.


And
what was that?’ asked Roborough, the warmth of laughter in his
eyes.


Rot.’

He blinked.
‘Rot?’


Yes.
Rot in the rafters, was what I said, if I remember rightly. I
could not have hit upon anything better.’


Indeed?’


No, for he immediately called off any idea of
buying
the place, and Mrs Haltwhistle assured me that there
was no chance of him altering his mind. Which, as you may suppose,
I was very glad to hear.’


I
imagine you were, ’Roborough said drily. ‘I, on the other
hand—’


Oh,
fudge,’ uttered Isadora in a conscience-stricken way, remembering
to whom she was speaking. ‘Here it comes. I might have known you
were only teasing me, pretending to be amused, and humouring me
again. Now I suppose you will rail at me, and I shall scream back
at you, and everything will be as horrid as ever.’

He eyed her in
silence for a moment or two. Then he asked quietly, ‘Is that how
you believe it must be between us?’

Isadora did not
answer. She was conscious of the strongest desire that it should
not be like that between them. But how could it be otherwise, with
what she knew of him—with what he thought of her, added to what he
must now feel about what she had done this day? What chance was
there of setting up any better understanding? Not that she wished
to. Only—why had he to be the villain of the piece? Why could it
not have been Syderstone who had lied?


Isadora?’ he said softly, recalling her attention.

She looked at
him. ‘Roborough, can you not find some other way to pay Syderstone?
Does it have to be this house? There must be other means at your
disposal.’

He was so
disappointed she had ignored his question that he found himself
retaliating bitterly, ‘Give you to him in marriage,
perhaps?’

She did not
flash back at him, much to his surprise. He had thrown her own
accusation back at her, and it would not have astonished him if she
had even hit him, as he had once seen her hit Edmund
Witheridge.

But instead her
features softened, her eyes beseeched him and her lips
trembled.


I
would even be prepared to do that, if it will help Mama,’ she said
in accents that would have moved Pontius Pilate, he thought. What
was she doing? Suddenly he understood. The cunning little
devil!


I am
not quite the fool you take me for, Isadora,’ he said calmly. ‘You
may play-act for all you are worth—and I may say that today your
assertion that you never do so in life seems strangely
misleading—but the house is going to be sold, and in spite of this
fiasco you will not stop it.’

Her face changed
instantly. Yes, that was more like the Isadora he had grown to
know. He could deal with this, with ease. Yet it brought him no
nearer to what he wanted. Better, however, than a shouting
match.


If
it is sold,’ Isadora threw at him crossly, annoyed that he had seen
through her act, ‘it will be over my dead body.’


That,’ retorted Roborough thoughtfully, ‘is not such a bad
idea. At least it will save me having to provide for
you.’


Oh!
Abominable!’

Roborough bowed.
‘Back to normal, I see.’


You
will
see, I promise you.’

With which, she
turned from him and walked swiftly back to the house. Really, he
was impossible. Here she had been unconsciously warming to him
again, and what happened? He began with his stupid teasing remarks
to drive her into hating him once more. Well, she was positively
glad of it. She needed this reminder of his real character to stop
allowing herself to be ensnared by his wiles.

Having removed
her costume, and thanked her maid for the use of it, she washed off
the burnt cork, and had herself dressed once more in her muslin
mourning gown. She must meet Roborough for luncheon, she supposed,
but there was no reason why she should speak to him.

In the event,
however, he was not there. He had eaten swiftly of the cold
collation, Hampole told her, and left the house; with a brief
parting word that he should be expected for dinner.

Isadora was
conscious of disappointment out of all proportion to the
circumstances. It was not as if she had been looking forward to a
tête-á-tête with the man. She had not been going to say a word. But
somehow, when he was not even there not to have that word said to
him, she was infuriated. How foolish. What in the world did it
matter to her? She wished he had not come back.

A new thought
struck her. She would wish it even more when the family got wind of
her escapade. That would not matter, if the viscount was not there
to hear the inevitable recriminations, for they would be twice as
bad for his presence.

But when she
came down to dinner, having hidden in her parlour to avoid meeting
the family as they returned beforehand, she was astonished to be
received, if not with delight, then at least with enthusiasm. Not
for her, to be sure. But every one of the family was plainly in
alt.


Dora, isn’t it wonderful?’ said Fanny ecstatically.


Isn’t what wonderful?’


Barton Stacey!’ yelled Rowland, grinning widely.


Dear
me, yes, my love,’ chimed in Mrs Alvescot, beaming, ‘it is true,
and we are all to go.’


Could anything be more fortunate, just now when more buyers
will likely come around to see the place?’ said Cousin
Matty.

Mystified,
Isadora looked frowningly from one to the other, while the family
gazed at her in perplexity.


I am
afraid,’ put in the viscount gently, ‘that you are all before
Isadora with the news. I have not seen her since I put the
arrangements in hand.’

A sense of
extreme foreboding entered Isadora’s breast. What had he
done?


What
arrangements?’

Roborough smiled
blandly. ‘Why, to take you all on an immediate visit to my home at
Barton Stacey.’

Isadora gazed at
him. ‘Visit?’


An
indefinite visit,’ he said smoothly. ‘While the house is being
looked over by potential purchasers.’

Isadora’s bosom
swelled indignantly. The unmitigated, unscrupulous wretch! And she
thought
she
had been clever. She had reckoned without her
host. She had been neatly out-generalled.

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

It was an uneasy
meeting. The two families gathered, at the viscount’s request, in
the lesser of the two receiving saloons at the mansion in Barton
Stacey. If, as he had told Isadora last night when pointing the
room out, it was the more informal, she dreaded to think what
effect the main saloon might have on her family.

Poor Mama was
looking quite crushed. But that might well be due to Lady
Roborough’s languid and melancholy demeanour. As well perhaps that
their arrival had been so late that only the upper servants had
still been awake to welcome them.


Forgive my not receiving you last evening,’ said her ladyship
as her son presented Mrs Alvescot, not even troubling herself to
rise from her chair, ‘but I trust Stratton saw all
right?’


I
think you mean Roborough
,
Mama,’ piped up one of the two
young Stratton girls in gently chiding tones.


What, Bettina?’


Titus is not Stratton any longer.’

A great sigh
escaped the lady’s lips. ‘How right of you to remind me.’ She gazed
sorrowfully up at her son where he stood to one side of her chair,
still engaged in the presentations. ‘Dear boy, forgive me. So
difficult to remember that you have the title now.’


Think nothing of it, ma’am,’ Roborough said unsmilingly, and
continued with his introductions. Even the viscount’s spirits
appeared to be damped by his mother’s woebegone attitude, Isadora
decided, recalling the way he had contrasted the warmth of her own
home so favourably with the atmosphere of this one. There could be
no doubt that the extreme formality—everything in its place, all
furnishings precisely matched—and the sophistication of the
surroundings were oppressive. It was certainly having its effect on
Cousin Matty and her children. Isadora had never known them so
quiet.

BOOK: VIscount Besieged
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