16 Lochmaben Castle

I zzy held tight to the straps in the carriage as it wallowed sluggishly along the road. How many hours had she spent being tossed about on bad roads over the past weeks? And heavens, how she missed her own elegant carriage, with its well-upholstered seats and excellent suspension. Sometimes even she grew tired of travelling. This time she had no familiar faces around her at all. Usually there was Brandon's impassive expression opposite her and Samuel sitting on the box, but they had been left behind in Durham. Latterly, she had had Sophie for company, but she had stayed at Harringdon Hall. Olly was still in Northumberland, and at least Sophie would have a chance to improve her acquaintance with Sydney. Perhaps nothing would come of it, but it was worth a try. They would suit so well, and Sophie deserved another chance for happiness.

Meanwhile, Izzy had the less than stimulating company of the Plowman sisters. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time to help them to run away from an unwanted marriage, and it had worked perfectly. The Davenports' carriage had been prepared, Izzy's box loaded and Izzy herself entered it, and away they went down the drive. Just before the gates, the two girls were waiting, each carrying a small bag. And thus they escaped, as easily as winking.

Now they were excited, Ruth chattering constantly about anything and nothing, one minute pointing out of the window at some landmark or other, the next trying to imagine her papa's face when he received the note that James Coachman would take back with him when he returned. But that was a problem, for they had left so late that the horses could not be baited and rested in time to make the return journey that day, so Mr Plowman would not know his daughters were safe until tomorrow. Some fathers were lackadaisical about their unmarried daughters vanishing into thin air, but she suspected that Mr Plowman was not one of them. Yet if she sent word before they were safe at Lochmaben Castle, they could be overtaken and the girls forced to return to Harringdon Hall.

When had she assumed responsibility for all these people? It was herself she should be worrying about. That was what this journey was all about, was it not, to attempt to discover what she truly wanted? To find out if she would have been better off marrying one of her other suitors. And perhaps at the back of her mind was the thought that she could recreate in some small way the glory days of her first season, when four men had vied for her hand.

Instead, all she had found was disappointment. Godfrey Marsden and Sydney Davenport had brought her crashing to earth. Even though both of them still loved her, in their way, they had changed from those heady days when they threw themselves at her feet and she was the centre of their world. Now there was only Robert Osborn left, and she had an unpleasant feeling that he too would have changed.

And if Robert failed her, there was only Ian. Here her spirits sank even lower, for she had abandoned him… had given him every reason to turn his back on her once and for all. And if Ian no longer wanted her, what on earth was she to do? She had to be married to someone… to have her place in society again. What if all that were lost for ever? What if she had thrown away her whole life by running away from Ian? Her blood ran cold at the thought.

Izzy was not much given to reflection on her own behaviour, for it was often too lowering to the spirits. How much more satisfying to shout and scream and break things! That always made her feel better. But sometimes she was forced to face up to her own mistakes. So it was when she broke Helena's doll, or at least she had allowed it to be broken. She was playing with the girls, rolling balls about the floor through little tunnels made of books, in an imitation of pall mall. The doll had been lying on the floor and spoilt her shot, so in a fit of temper she had picked it up and thrown it at Helena, with a curt command to ‘Put that thing away!'. Helena had dropped her and the china head had shattered. Then Izzy had been consumed by guilt, and spent all morning in the attics looking for a replacement, and not finding one. Helena had been sweet about it, but Izzy wished with all her heart that she was a better mother to her daughters.

Now she wondered if perhaps she ought to have been a better wife, too. Ian was the most patient of men, but even his forbearance must have a limit.

So her thoughts ran as the carriage wended its way with painful slowness through the bleak Northumberland countryside and across the border into the equally bleak Scottish border country. They were surrounded by gently rolling hills, almost devoid of habitations. Only an occasional inn, built low to the ground, or a rough track leading off to one side or the other, smoke rising from chimneys tucked away behind sheltering trees, suggested that people lived in this desolate place. Or perhaps it was only Izzy's mood that brought the desolation, for the Plowman sisters exclaimed over the vistas and were ecstatic with the view from a low line of hills that marked the boundary with Scotland.

As they began their slow descent, and then turned off the main road into an even more badly rutted one towards Lochmaben, Izzy had cajoled herself into a better frame of mind. Robert was now her last hope, but she would not rush her fences as she had with Godfrey and Sydney. With them, she had dived in and said whatever came into her head. She would approach Robert with greater caution, staying at Lochmaben with her cousins, and merely calling at Strathinver, as any friendly neighbour would do. She would take things slowly. After all, she had all the time in the world. There was nowhere else for her to run to, was there? This was the end of her journey.

When she had first visited Lochmaben Castle, many years ago, it had seemed overwhelmingly vast to her small self. Yet even later visits had not dispelled that first impression. As the carriage plodded wearily up the drive and the massive frontage gradually loomed up before them, she remembered anew that it truly was built on a grandiose ducal scale. Even the garrulous Ruth Plowman was reduced to awed silence.

"Are we… are we going to stay here?"

"We are. The duke is my cousin, so he will hardly throw us out."

"But… but we are nobody to him," Ruth said in a small voice.

"You are my guests, so he will welcome you as he welcomes everyone. You need not be afraid of him just because he is a duke, you know. A duke is just a man, after all. He is the most tremendous fun — the whole family is, in fact, and they will be delighted to meet you."

The Plowman sisters exchanged glances, clearly not believing a word of it, but the bell on the watchtower clamoured excitedly to announce their arrival, and before the carriage had even stopped moving, a stream of people poured down the steps to greet them. Within moments they were helped down from the carriage, and wreathed in a cloud of assorted ducal relations, all beaming happily at them, and sweeping them up the steps into the hall. Izzy recognised the duke and duchess and a few of their immediate family, who were regularly in London, but there were many faces unknown to her.

But there, emerging from the throng, was one whom Izzy knew very well.

"Mama! Oh, Mama!"

Her mother wrapped her in a warm embrace, and whether it was the familiarity of home, or that well-remembered perfume, or just the relief of seeing someone she knew and loved and need not pretend to, but Izzy felt tears start to her eyes. How foolish! Shaking her head in bemusement at her own sentimentality, she laughed and murmured, "It is wonderful to see you, Mama."

Then there was the business of introducing the Plowman sisters. The duke introduced himself and the duchess, saying briskly, "No more names, or your heads will spin. Dwyer, prepare rooms for our guests! And tell the kitchen three more for dinner. How delightful this is! Such a happy party we shall be tonight. This way, ladies."

They were swept into a handsome saloon, glasses of wine pressed into their hands, platters of edible things waved under their noses, while the duke's family twittered happily around them. Izzy was used to them, but she could see the Plowman sisters were overwhelmed by the effusive welcome.

Mama led Izzy to a quiet corner. "I thought you would be here before too long."

"Did you? But I am surprised to see you! I thought you were settled at Harfield Priory with Aunt Myrtle."

Her mother pulled a face. "So I was, but Tess turned up."

"Tess Nicholson? At the Priory? Good heavens! But where has she been?" Izzy had some sympathy with that. A girl whose father had been brutally murdered might very well want to hide away for a while. Tess Nicholson's life had been turned upside down just as much as Izzy's had.

Lady Rennington sighed, her mouth thinning disapprovingly. "She will say nothing about it, she simply arrived on the doorstep one day, and she is up to some mischief, you may be sure. Your Aunt Myrtle thought so too, and was threatening to send for Lord Tarvin, and I cannot abide that man, so I came here instead. There is enough going on here to put Tess Nicholson quite out of my head, thank goodness. Still, her mother is very relieved to have word of her, you may be sure. Alice is outwardly very composed, always, and said that Tess had her maid and footman with her so she could not have got into real trouble, but still, a mother must always worry about her child, and especially a daughter. As I do about you, Izzy dear. You gave us quite a turn when you took off from Durham like that, without a word. I hope you are going to stay here for a while. We can be exiles together, can we not?"

"Are you never going back to Papa?" Izzy said in a small voice.

"No, dear, never," her mother said serenely. "It is for the best. Whereas for you, it would be much the best thing to marry Ian again. That way you will go on just as before. No one will think any the worse of you for it."

"Oh, Mama! What an optimist you are! It will be the greatest scandal in the world when it all comes out, as it assuredly will. How will I ever be able to show my face in town again?"

"On your husband's arm and with a smile, my dear. Naturally there will be gossip, but when they see that you are perfectly respectable, that your husband is content and nothing material has changed, the chatter will fade away. There is always some new shocking story to drive last week's news out of everyone's head. And as yet, no one seems to know anything about it, so if you are lucky, you will be quietly remarried to Ian before the whispering even starts."

"Do the Coulters not know?"

"I told the duke, of course — he is our cousin, and a powerful ally to suppress unpleasantness, but no one else is aware of our situation."

"The Davenports know. They have acquaintances in town who reported that Walter is there, and not using his title."

The countess's face fell. "That had not occurred to me. London is so thin of company at this time of year I thought no one would be there to notice. Still, we must make the best of it. Once you are remarried—"

"How do I know Ian will want to marry me?" Izzy whispered.

"Because he told me so," Lady Rennington said firmly. "He arrived at the Priory not two days after you had left it, then turned Durham upside down to find out which road you had taken. He swore to follow you until he catches up with you, and then make use of the special licence he carries. He is very determined, Izzy. He cannot be very far behind you, so I dare say he will be here in a day or two."

Her mother was so confident, but Izzy could not be. Until she saw Ian again, she would not know for certain what options she still had. Perhaps he would take her back, although she could not imagine what she would say to him, or how she could explain herself. Could she ever make him understand? Could he forgive her? A chill ran down her spine. He was the most tolerant of men, but all men have their limits. She could only hope…

Dear Lord, let him not abandon me! Please let him come…

If he should arrive at Lochmaben, then she would know and she could decide what to do. But first, she had to see Robert.

***

W hen Izzy went to dress for dinner, there was another surprise awaiting her. Brandon, her own maid, met her with an unaccustomed smile, and the room in a high degree of order. Even her miniature of Ian sat on the table beside the bed, as usual. Brandon was surprisingly sentimental about such things, but Izzy was not any more, not with her future in such turmoil. She picked up the miniature and pushed it into a drawer.

Laid out on the bed ready for Izzy to wear was one of the gowns she had left behind in Durham.

"My favourite blue silk! How lovely to see it again… and you, Brandon. I thought you would have gone back to Stonywell by now."

"Lady Rennington told me to stay with her, my lady. She was sure you'd turn up sooner or later."

"She must have great powers of foresight if she guessed I would turn up here," Izzy said, laughing. "Is Samuel here too? And my carriage? I should be so glad to have my own carriage again."

"The master took the carriage, my lady, and Samuel, too."

"Did he, now? I wonder why. But he did not take you or my gowns, for which I am very grateful. Living out of one small box, one grows excessively bored with the same three gowns."

"My lady, did you leave your diamond pendant behind somewhere?" Brandon said. "I can't find it in the jewel box."

Izzy laughed again. "Indeed I did. I left it at Garthwaite and Sons, in York."

"Did the clasp break? For it didn't need cleaning, I'd swear to that."

"No, nothing like that. I was short of money and my horrid husband had written to the bank to tell them not to give me any. But Mr Garthwaite was most accommodating."

"Oh, my lady! You never pawned your lovely necklace!"

"Pawned? No, no. Merely he advanced me a loan, which I shall repay… or Lord Farramont will, I hope, for it would take me quite a few quarters to repay such a sum. Should I wear the sapphires, tonight? The duchess is very showy in town, and I cannot believe she lapses into informality here."

"Not her! Everything but the tiara, according to Miss Garth, who looks after her. Lady Rennington has been wearing her diamonds every night — the full set."

"Definitely the sapphires, then. How many are we for dinner?"

"Forty-two, my lady, and how you'll all fit around the table I can't imagine."

Izzy clapped her hands in delight. "Excellent! I love a party."

"Never was a truer word spoken," muttered Brandon, but Izzy thought she detected a hint of a smile.

Dinner was indeed a crush, with two long tables squeezed into a dining room large enough for only one, if the guests were to be comfortable. It was necessary to draw one's chair close to the table to allow the footmen room to manoeuvre behind, and a raised elbow while eating was liable to joggle the slice of mutton right off one's neighbour's fork.

Izzy minded not a bit. She was surrounded by delightful people who were all in the mood to be entertained. The duke's Berkeley Square house was one place where she could always be sure of lively company, and so it was here, too. Dinners at Harringdon Hall had been filled with a certain strain, since everyone deeply resented her interference in the Sydney's proposed marriage. Marsden Hall had not been precisely amusing, either.

In fact, she could not remember a single enjoyable meal since she had left Stonywell. The night before her departure to the Cotterills, they had sat down eighteen to dinner, and a charming time of it they had had. It was no one in particular, just the locals — a baron's heir, the squire, the parson and their womenfolk — but they all knew each other well, and were suitably amusing. The parson, in particular, was an accomplished flirt, and the baron's heir a definite wit. How much she had enjoyed that evening, presiding over a table where everyone was having a wonderful time, with Ian watching her steadily from his place at the other end, a little smile on his lips.

Then the very next day that appalling letter had arrived and her whole life had disintegrated around her, anger had consumed her and she had begun her journeying. Where was that anger now? Still burning, somewhere deep inside but she could not reach it, for some reason. She was surrounded by lively company, so she sparkled like the sapphires at her throat, laughing and teasing and being as amusing as she could, but somehow it took more effort than usual.

How very odd. What was the matter with her?

But she knew the answer to that. That powerful flame of anger was all but extinguished now by an even more powerful feeling — fear. She had never been much of a gambler, but this journey was nothing but reckless folly. Five years ago, she had settled for the safe option — for Ian and his steadiness, dull as that might be. At least with Ian she knew what she was getting.

Now she had embarked on a crazy quest to relive her youth, perhaps to make a different choice. It had seemed like such a good idea when she set out. But now, lost and dispirited and lonely , she was very much afraid that she had thrown away every chance for happiness.

No, not afraid — terrified .