Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

T he following morning, Archibald was just heading down to breakfast when Izzie emerged from the bedroom next door, which she had been using to dress, wearing a midnight blue traveling costume trimmed in silver.

He kissed her hand. “You look beautiful this morning.”

She smiled at him as she twirled a little hat that matched her outfit. “Thank you.”

“Are you going out today, then?”

She bit her lip. “I was thinking that I might. It seems that the danger has passed. Do you agree?”

Archibald had been thinking the same thing. It wasn’t reasonable to expect Izzie to remain cooped up in the house forever or only to leave in his company. “I do. Perhaps you could bring some guards with you?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” she said in a rush. “And I won’t go wandering about town. I have a very specific location I’d like to visit. One that’s extremely secure.”

Archibald grinned. “Let me guess—you’re going to Latimer House to visit Lady Diana.” The duke’s home was a detached mansion surrounded by walls on all sides. It would be the ideal place for Izzie’s first excursion.

“Not Latimer House,” she said.

“Hmm. Your parents’ house, then?” Astley House was less secure than Latimer House, as it opened directly to the street. But Archibald didn’t think it was an unreasonable choice.

“Not Astley House, either.” She gave him a teasing smile. “See if you can guess—it’s a place I’ve been terribly eager to visit.”

“Let’s see… back to The Temple of the Muses? You’re welcome to go there, of course, but I must confess, I was hoping to accompany you on your next excursion. I enjoy watching you shop for books.”

“Not The Temple of the Muses. I quite enjoyed shopping for books with you, too.” She caressed his bicep. “It’s useful having a big, strong man to carry my books for me.”

That made Archibald’s heart swell. He enjoyed being useful to her, and it was gratifying to hear that she liked having him around.

Another possibility occurred to him. “You’re meeting your friends at Gunther’s for ices.”

“Not Gunther’s.”

“Umm…” He wracked his brain, trying to imagine where else she might want to go. “Perhaps Lady Diana has secured tickets to the British Museum?”

“No!” She laughed. “I can’t believe you haven’t guessed already. I’ve been talking about visiting this place all week.”

Archibald was having trouble thinking of possibilities. “Maybe the dressmaker’s?” Although he couldn’t recall her mentioning the dressmaker’s, not even once.

“Not the dressmaker’s.”

“Hyde Park?”

“Not Hyde Park. As I said, it’s a place that’s very secure.” She laughed. “It’s probably more secure than even being here at the house.”

It occurred to him in a flash. “The Tower of London! You’re meeting Lucy and Diana to see the animals.”

“No!” She laughed. “Try again.”

He hadn’t managed to guess by the time they entered the breakfast room, where his mother interrupted his speculation. “Oh, Thorpe, Lady Isabella! I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been waiting to show you this!”

She pulled out a swatch of brocaded silk in a particularly virulent shade of chartreuse. “What do you think?”

The vein behind Archibald’s left eye gave a throb. The poison green color was so bright it was difficult to look directly at it. “It’s, uh… It’s really…”

Izzie seemed to sense he was at a loss for words. “How bold,” she offered as she helped herself to a poached egg.

“Bold!” his mother cried. “That is precisely the word!”

“And it’s the most fashionable color right now,” his father noted. “The designer was raving about it.”

Archibald shot Izzie a look. He hadn’t seen anyone else using that color.

Izzie gave him the tiniest of nods. Her expression said, don’t worry. I’ll handle it .

Taking a seat at the table, Izzie took up her knife and began to butter her toast. “Where were you thinking to use it?”

“The front parlor,” his mother said. “We’ll have the color everywhere! The walls, the cushions… we’re even having a new rug made up.”

“It’s badly overdue for a change,” his father explained. “The room hasn’t been redecorated in eighteen months.”

Archibald was scrambling to figure out how to explain that redecorating the entire parlor in the color of vomit was not, in fact, the height of fashion without hurting his parents’ feelings when Izzie lowered her knife. “Oh, dear.”

“Whatever is the matter, dear?” his mother asked.

Izzie’s face was crestfallen. “It’s just… I was speaking to my mother the other day. And to my sister, Lady Thetford.”

His mother leaned forward eagerly. Lady Cheltenham and Lady Thetford were two of the leading tastemakers of the ton . “What did they say?”

“Although you are absolutely correct, and that shade of green is the peak of fashion at the moment , my mother and sister are convinced that its reign will be… short-lived.”

“Short-lived?” His mother’s eyes went wide as guineas.

“You don’t say!” his father exclaimed.

Izzie took up her teacup, her expression one of regret. “I fear so. And, because a full redecoration, with a new rug and reupholstering all of the furniture, will take time, I dread the possibility that, at the very moment your new parlor is complete, the color will become passé .”

“ Passé! ” his mother gasped. “The horror!”

“Whatever shall we do?” his father cried.

Izzie’s eyes went wide as if the solution had just occurred to her. “Although a room takes considerable time to make over, I’m sure your modiste could have a spencer made up for you in this shade in a matter of days, Mrs. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy. And perhaps a waistcoat for you, sir.”

“A spencer!” his mother exclaimed. “In velvet, I think.”

“It will be the perfect thing for the crisp autumn weather,” his father noted.

“Just so,” Izzie agreed. “And then, you can have the room made over in what my mother and sister assure me will be the next fashionable color…”

His parents both leaned forward, holding their breath.

Izzie paused for dramatic effect, then said, “Pale blue.”

“Pale blue!” his mother cried. “But of course!”

“Very elegant,” his father added. “What do you think, Thorpe?”

He swallowed a bite of eggs. “I don’t pretend to be a great arbiter of fashion. But if Lady Cheltenham and Lady Thetford recommend pale blue, I do not think you could do better.”

“Just so,” his mother agreed. “When the designer comes today, we will tell him we have changed our minds and insist upon pale blue…”

Across the table, Izzie caught his eye, the corner of her mouth curving up a fraction.

He saluted her with his coffee cup. God, he loved his wife.