VIscount Besieged (6 page)

‘
He
looks a first-rate sportsman,’ said Rowland, hard on the heels of
his sister. ‘Does he box with Mendoza?’

‘
He
is a man of fashion, one can see that,’ came admiringly from Cousin
Matty. ‘Does he have a house in town?’

‘
Is
he married?’ asked Fanny eagerly.

‘
He
must be, he’s a viscount,’ said Rowland scornfully.

‘
What
has that to say to anything?’ Isadora put in, despising herself for
showing any interest at all in the matter.

‘
Dora’s in the right of it,’ conceded Fanny. ‘Though I dare say
he is married. The eligible ones always are.’ She turned eagerly to
the lawyer. ‘Is he married, Mr Thornbury?’

‘
What
does it matter?’ exclaimed Isadora impatiently, making up for her
previous error.

‘
It
does,’ came anxiously from Cousin Matty, ‘for if he is, his
commitments will be heavier, and there will be less room for
us.’

‘
Pooh!’ scoffed Rowland. ‘I don’t think he means to abandon us.
He’s too much the gentleman.’

‘
What, merely because he has an air of fashion?’ Isadora put
in. ‘That means nothing at all.’

‘
Very
true, Dora,’ Cousin Matty said, for once in agreement with her
cousin, ‘but he has shown himself to be both thoughtful and
considerate.’

‘
Mr
Thornbury,’ said Fanny despairingly, jumping up from the sofa. ‘You
say nothing. Tell us about him, pray.’

‘
Patience, I beg of you,’ begged the lawyer, laughing and
throwing up his hands.

‘
Yes,
but surely—’ began Cousin Matty.

‘
Mrs
Dotterell,’ he said firmly, ‘there is very little use in your
asking me all these questions. I assure you I know little more than
you do, least of all what his lordship intends.’

‘
Yes,
but you must know how old he is,’ insisted Fanny. ‘Or whether he is
married.’

‘
How
should he know?’ put in Isadora scornfully. ‘I don’t suppose Mr
Thornbury wasted time asking Roborough such unimportant
questions.’

‘
And
most impertinent ones on my part,’ Thornbury added severely. ‘You
may believe, Miss Fanny, that I confined myself to unravelling the
odd circumstance of our mistaking his lordship’s identity, and in
answering his questions.’

‘
I
knew it,’ exclaimed Isadora. ‘He discovered all our names in
advance just so that he might appear in an agreeable
light.’

‘
Oh,
that must be nonsense, Dora,’ said Cousin Matty irritably. ‘He is a
most pleasant man—thank heaven!’

‘
And
terribly good-looking,’ added Fanny, glancing slyly at Isadora.
‘Don’t you think so, Dora?’

Isadora declined
to answer this. She had just remembered that the viscount had
evidently not known her own name before she had mentioned it
herself, and she was looking frowningly at Thornbury.

‘
What
did he ask about us?’

The other three
were too eager to hear the answer to this to interrupt the lawyer
with further questions.

‘
Only
what might have been expected, ’Thornbury answered.

‘
Well, what was that?’ demanded Isadora, adding impatiently,
‘Do sit down again, Mr Thornbury. You cannot suppose that they are
going to let you go before their curiosity is
satisfied.’

Thornbury
smiled. ‘Their curiosity?’

‘
Well, I don’t care what he asked. I learned everything I ever
want to know about the viscount when we met in the
gardens.’

‘
Why,
what did he say to you?’ asked Fanny eagerly.

‘
Never you mind,’ Isadora responded darkly.

‘
I’ll
wager it was Dora who did the talking,’ guessed Rowland,
grinning.

‘
For
heaven’s sake,’ said Cousin Matty on a querulous note. ‘For my
part, I am more concerned with what Mr Thornbury can tell us.’ She
turned to the lawyer again. ‘It pains me to trouble you, sir, but I
am so anxious.’

With obvious
reluctance, the lawyer resumed the seat he had been occupying on
the sofa until Roborough and Mrs Alvescot left the room. He sighed
at the expectant faces all about him.

‘
There really is very little to tell. Lord Roborough had not
assimilated the contents of my letter, beyond the fact that the
family were situated in extremely difficult circumstances. His
enquiries were in the main connected with the details, which you
all know, and the number of persons with whom he must concern
himself.’

‘
He
wanted to know how old we all were, I dare say,’ Isadora put in
shrewdly, recalling what the viscount had said about not having to
concern himself with Fanny as yet.

‘
That, yes,’ agreed the lawyer, casting her a glance of
surprise. ‘It is relevant, in the light of any future arrangements
he may choose to make.’

‘
Arrangements?’ echoed Isadora suspiciously. ‘What sort of
arrangements?’

Thornbury
shrugged. ‘I have no idea, Miss Alvescot.’

‘
You
mean he has forbidden you to speak of them,’ guessed
Isadora.

Thornbury
coughed. ‘Not precisely. Although naturally I would be obliged to
respect his lordship’s wishes if he had done so.’

‘
Great heavens, one would think the matter was no concern of
ours at all!’

‘
I
think his lordship is aware of how very much it is your concern,’
the lawyer said in a reproving tone. ‘But the truth is, he has not
confided in me with regard to any plans he may have.’

‘
But
you spoke of arrangements?’ Cousin Matty ventured.

‘
I
was speaking only as one who understands what question must arise
in his lordship’s mind.’

‘
What
question is that?’ pursued Cousin Matty.

‘
Yes,
we aren’t lawyers,’ stated Fanny practically.

‘
Fanny, you shouldn’t be so brassy,’ butted in Rowland
suddenly. ‘I dare say Mr Thornbury will refuse to tell us anything
if you talk like that.’

Fanny looked
daggers at her brother, and then turned sweetly to the lawyer,
saying unctuously, ‘I beg your pardon, Mr Thornbury.’

‘
So I
should hope,’ said Cousin Matty severely. ‘Now hold your tongue,
do, Fanny. You were saying, Mr Thornbury?’

The lawyer
raised his eyebrows. ‘Was I?’

‘
Arrangements,’ Isadora prompted.

‘
Ah
yes. What I meant was that, should Lord Roborough choose to take
responsibility for the family—and from his discourse I will say at
least that I have every expectation that he will—he can only gauge
the likely form and expense of this if he knows the ages of the
parties concerned.’

Cousin Matty was
gazing at him with painful enquiry. ‘You think, then, that he will
include us?’

Thornbury gave
her a reassuring smile. ‘It certainly did not seem to me that his
lordship gave any indication that he would do otherwise. But,’ he
added carefully as the Dotterells brightened, ‘that can only be my
guess. I do not know the viscount and he will have to speak for
himself.’

‘
Which he will, mark my words,’ said Isadora with a kindling
eye. ‘He is nothing if not outspoken.’

Cousin Matty was
visibly relieved. ‘For my part, he may say anything he chooses, as
long as he provides for me and my poor fatherless
children.’

Isadora got up
abruptly. ‘He shall do so, Cousin Matty. For if he refuses I
promise you I shall have a great deal to say about it. He will not
withstand my demands.’

‘
Oh
no,’ groaned Fanny. ‘If you are to speak for us, Dora, we may as
well abandon hope immediately.’

Rowland burst
into rude laughter at this, but his mother paid no attention, being
fully taken up with the need, as she evidently believed, to bring
Isadora to her senses.

‘
Dora, pray don’t take your usual manner with Lord Roborough.
You will only alienate him, and then where shall we be?’

‘
I
will do nothing of the kind,’ snapped Isadora, incensed. ‘Besides,
I have already quarrelled with the wretch—but that was before I
knew who he was. But if you suppose that I have any intention of
kowtowing to him as you and Mama have done, you may think again. I
have already told him that he has no authority over me,
and—’

‘
You
did what?’ burst out Fanny.

‘
Oh,
Dora, how could you?’ moaned Cousin Matty.

‘
And
,’ continued Isadora pointedly, ‘he did not appear
to mind my saying it in the least. In fact, I was quite in charity
with him. So you may make yourself easy.’

‘
I am
not in the least easy,’ stated Cousin Matty in a tone of
foreboding. ‘I have the most dreadful presentiments
already.’

‘
With
Dora on the loose, Mama,’ chimed in Fanny matter-of-factly, ‘you
could not help but do so. Depend upon it, she will ruin all our
chances.’

Isadora slammed
out of the room.

Really, if the
family wanted her to remain in charity with Roborough, they were
going quite the wrong way to work. She could see how it would be.
Nothing but flattery and sycophancy from morning to night. Well,
she was not going to behave in that nauseous fashion. She would
rather die. Ruin all their chances, indeed. Fudge! As if
Roborough—little though she knew him, this much was obvious—would
be taken in by any expression of docility on her part. Had he not
himself said that he liked it better when she railed at him? Well,
if he chose not to assist the Dotterells, rail at him she would,
with a vengeance.

But, to say
truth, she did not really think he was going to refuse to help
them. She remembered the bitter anger that had slipped from his
control when she had merely suggested that he might turn them out.
Did not that argue for a favourable outcome? And Thornbury believed
he would take responsibility for the whole family, did he
not?

Excellent, let
him do so. Then she might take to the boards with a clear
conscience. In this, of course, she must be circumspect. If he had
not expressed the idea that it was a pity she would not act out of
her own environment, Isadora might almost have been tempted to
confide in him. For he had thought her acting worthwhile. Her heart
warmed unexpectedly at the remembrance of the compliments he had
paid her. But, she reminded herself, approving of her acting was a
far cry from allowing her to take it up professionally.

Ladies of her
class simply did not do that, which was why she had not wanted to
appear in Society. No one need know that she had ever been Isadora
Alvescot. As long as no connection was made, no breath of scandal
would redound upon her family. In truth, this was why she needed
the viscount to take care of them all.

It was one thing
to put herself in that situation—from which there would be no going
back, for once known as a famous and, she hoped, splendid
tragedienne she could kiss goodbye to her former identity
forever—but quite another to drag her unwilling family along with
her into exile from polite society. For that was what it would
mean. She had never pretended otherwise. She was neither as cruel
nor as selfish as that, whatever Fanny thought.

No, if she was
to accomplish her plans, Roborough’s role must be to take on the
family, in whatever fashion he deemed most suitable. The only
difficulty would be in finding the way to her own destiny before
the viscount chose one for her.

The thought
froze her on the short stairway in the path she had taken towards
her bedchamber—for it was almost time to change into her habit for
her accustomed early evening ride—which lay in the additional
side-wing that had been built on to the old house in Papa’s young
days.

Would Roborough
acquiesce in her plans? No, he would not. Oh, fudge, she must
think!

No solution had
yet occurred to her as she went off down the back way towards the
stables, to find her horse already saddled and waiting. The cooling
air was refreshing as she cantered down the bridle-path, her Juliet
neck and neck with Papa’s Titian, ridden by the hardy old groom
Totteridge, and the anxiety that had been building up began to
wane.

The horses
slowed as the woods thinned out, and they turned to take the scenic
route back to the estate. She and Papa had always called it that,
she recalled with one of those unexpected pangs. It was near two
years since Papa had been able to ride it with her. At first, it
had been merely that he had not been well enough to ride, and
Totteridge had been detailed to accompany Isadora in his stead,
both to exercise the stallion and to keep her safe. Later, there
had been no question of him riding ever again.

Tears pricked at
Isadora’s eyes as she automatically guided Juliet to pick her way
through the brambled edge of the fields that bordered their home
ground. The familiar view across the estate blurred, and she reined
in her mount at the top of the hill. Through a haze she saw the
Jacobean house squatting in the unrolling valley, below the
clusters of interrupting trees dotted here and there, a
two-storeyed, low-lying bulk, the single wing snaking out the side,
ivy encroaching up the walls.