Chapter 15

15

Lady Ashby was surprised, and a little disconcerted, to receive a morning visit from the Countess of Irlam. She was not greatly acquainted with that lady, despite their connection by marriage, and at first thought that she must be calling on Lady Blanche, who happened to be absent with her daughter at the modiste's that day. But no; once the Countess had been admitted to the drawing room – Isabella had had a wild idea of telling the butler that she was not at home, but a second's reflection told her that this was impossible – she smiled and said, ‘I'm glad to find you alone, Lady Ashby, for I confess it's you I most particularly hoped to see.' Cassandra was a little occupied in stripping off her gloves and removing her fashionable bonnet and braided blue velvet pelisse, and so presumably did not see the fleeting expression of sheer panic that passed across Isabella's face. She murmured some polite response, she could not have said what, and waited. What could this woman she barely knew possibly want with her? She was alone, without even little Billy to keep her company and give her courage.

Tea was brought, and once it had been poured the two ladies regarded each other. Isabella was glad that she was wearing one of her new gowns: the green one, in fact, with the slashed sleeves and habit shirt, which most unaccountably she always associated with her interview with Captain Winterton, in this very room. She couldn't hope to compete with her ethereal guest in terms of style and elegance and beauty – that had already been established at Mrs Singleton's party – but at least she was fashionably dressed today, and well groomed, and not wearing brown. She refused to dwell on precisely why the idea of competing with Lady Irlam – over what, pray? – should so much as have entered her head.

Cassandra went on, ‘I thought we should become better acquainted, as two ladies from Yorkshire among so many southerners. You're from Harrogate originally, I understand? I have been there often, but I grew up in Skipton – do you know it?'

Isabella did, and they conversed easily for a little while, discovering that they had some acquaintances in common, and might easily have met on several occasions, had they but known it. She began to relax. Clearly, her wilder imaginings – in which Lady Irlam betrayed an unexpected possessive streak over Captain Winterton, her cicisbeo, and upbraided Isabella in deeply mortifying terms for stealing him away – were ridiculous. They must be entirely preposterous, surely – this was a friendly, happily married lady, who had no sinister intentions whatsoever, and furthermore could know nothing, nothing at all, about her husband's cousin's illicit relations with Isabella. Nor could she have the least suspicion of the Captain's unrequited passion; of course he would have been discreet in such excessively awkward circumstances. These were reassuring thoughts and enabled Isabella to converse with her unexpected guest with perfect composure.

It would be good, she thought, to have a friend of her own age to talk to – and to write reassuringly to her mother about – at least for the short while she remained in London, and one with whom she had something in common in the way of background, even though their current circumstances were very different. It must pain her somewhat to think that if Ash had lived she and her guest might very well have become bosom bows, through their tenuous family connection, and seen a great deal of each other as the years went by. All this could never come to pass now, of course; she'd be back in Harrogate soon enough, under her parents' roof. But she pushed that thought aside; she had a great deal of practice at banishing unwelcome thoughts, and barely flinched now when one threatened to assail her.

‘I was wondering…' said Lady Irlam – she had been invited to call her Cassandra; said Cassandra. ‘We plan to leave London soon and return to our home in Hampshire, so I thought we might make up a house party there. Nothing grand, just a few friends who will spend some weeks with us there in a very relaxed, informal sort of a way. Town is emptying out, it seems to me, and I believe Lady Blanche plans to return to Ireland while the weather remains relatively clement. You will be at a loose end, then, so would you care to accompany us and make one of our party?'

It was perfectly true; Lady Blanche had discussed her intention of leaving England in a few weeks' time, and Isabella had been closing her mind to all that this implied. She had even formed some vague idea of taking lodgings in London, although it would be hard to do so without some respectable lady to accompany her, which naturally was the last thing she wanted, and even with such an inconvenient companion, her parents would hold the idea in great disfavour when they heard of it. It seemed likely that her father would be despatched to fetch her home, and though he couldn't and wouldn't drag her back to Yorkshire against her will, the pressure he and most of all her mother could bring to bear would be considerable. Women of her age, even widows, simply did not set up house in London with no close male relative to lend them countenance. Whatever would their friends and neighbours say when they heard of such peculiar and not quite respectable behaviour? But here was another alternative…

Cassandra saw her momentary hesitation and said, ‘Of course, you might very easily dislike the notion of committing yourself to a party where you are not well acquainted with any of the other guests, and I quite see that it is unfair that I should ask it of you, so I shall describe them to you, to allow you to make a more informed choice. I had hoped that my great friend Lady Silverwood might come, with her husband Sir Benedict and daughter Lucy and little son Teddy – he is the sweetest baby – but she is increasing again and prefers to stay at home. My husband's aunt, Lady Louisa Pendlebury, will be with us, and her friend Lady Carston. I don't know if you have met either of them in more than a casual way?'

‘I haven't,' said Isabella, ‘but I was talking with Georgiana, with the Duchess, a few days ago before she left London – of course, how foolish of me to forget that you must already know her far better than I do yet – and she said that she had hoped to introduce me to Lady Carston, as she was sure we would deal extremely well together. But in the end, she had no chance to do so, as Gabriel was so eager to leave.'

‘Did she say that? That's interesting,' said Cassandra rather enigmatically. ‘Well, I'm sure she was right, and you may take her word for it that you and Jane Carston will be firm friends. And Lady Louisa is excellent company, you know – not like an aunt at all, if you have aunts and are picturing someone terribly stuffy and dull and disapproving. She was very kind to me when I first met her, even though I was a mere nobody; she's not at all high in the instep. Let's see, who else…? My husband's friend Mr Wainfleet, who is not in the petticoat line, as he'd say himself. Oh, I should not use horrid slang, forgive me! I spend altogether too much time with my husband and his brothers! If you do not know, to be or not to be in such a line signifies a gentleman who does or does not frequent the company of women, with all that that implies. Poor Mr Wainfleet very much does not, and I think is a little scared of young, attractive ladies, if truth be told, so he won't trouble you at all.'

Isabella was quite touched that Cassandra thought of her as a young, attractive lady, though of course it was not true and could not signify in the least, and was smiling a little at this as her guest went on, ‘There may be a few other people present, I'm not sure yet, but nobody intimidating, I assure you, and besides that, we will be a family party, more or less. My brother-in-law Bastian will be there, and my childhood friend Matthew Welby – you'll have a great deal to say to him, he's from Yorkshire too, he's like a brother to me and has become very close to Bastian; they share a set of rooms in London now. And my husband's Aunt Sophia, Mrs Winterton, of course, and her son Leo, Captain Winterton. I know you are acquainted with him, so that will be a friendly face – did he not accompany us on a turn around the park a few weeks ago? And I am sure I have seen you dancing with him once or twice.'

Isabella gulped and gazed at Lady Irlam in wild surmise, but her face was completely open and innocent, and it was ridiculous to think she meant anything particular by her last remark. ‘Yes,' said Isabella slowly. ‘Yes, of course I am acquainted with the Captain, though I have never met his mother.' Good God, his mother!

‘He is a most agreeable man, is he not? I do not know him very well – he was at sea, I believe, when Hal and I married, and then we went abroad for several months, so I have only properly met him this year while he has been staying with us. But I like him very much.'

‘Just so,' Isabella replied in hollow tones. There were many other things she could have said, things that she'd wager would have made her companion's fiery locks stand on end, but perhaps fortunately she refrained from giving utterance to any of them.

‘Well,' said Cassandra with a mischievous smile that Isabella could not help distrusting, ‘I suppose I should not ask a young lady's opinion of an eligible gentleman; indiscreet of me to enquire, and it would be indiscreet of you to answer, so you are very wise not to do so.'

‘I do not consider myself a young lady – or not in the sense I believe you mean,' Isabella responded with a tolerable assumption of calm. ‘I am not on the hunt for eligible gentlemen, not in the slightest, I do assure you, even though you must be right to say that the Captain is indeed extremely so.'

‘Oh goodness,' said Lady Irlam, flushing, ‘I am so sorry – of course you are not. Forgive me for my clumsiness, I beg you. I have indeed spent too much time with my husband's family, and they do tease each other so terribly that I dare say I have fallen into the habit of it myself. How provoking! Now I have offended you, and given you a disgust of the Pendleburys and their rag manners besides, and the result of it all is that you will not come, and it will all be my fault when I am sitting alone in the Castle with no other young lady to bear me company.'

She did appear to be genuinely distressed, and Isabella was obliged to rush to reassure her that she was not in the least upset, and the upshot of it all was that she found herself agreeing to accept the invitation, and with a speed that took her breath away all was arranged; she would travel down to Hampshire with Lady Irlam in her carriage the very next week.

When her guest had taken her leave, Isabella reflected that, although the entirely unexpected invitation had been initially alarming – and the thought of keeping company with Captain Winterton's mother remained so, for how would she contrive to look her in the face? – it would at least enable her, enable them, to continue to make the necessary progress on her list. This would have been difficult enough upon Blanche's departure, and impossible if the Captain was engaged to go down to Hampshire with his family, which appeared to be the case, though he had never told her of it. Perhaps he had not known how to broach the subject. She would ask him, next time she saw him, and they could make a plan for how to proceed once they were at the Castle. It suddenly occurred to her that, if they were discreet – and they would have to be – they would for the first time have all night, or most of it, and the comfort of a bed at their disposal. That was food for thought.

Isabella remained touchingly confident that Lady Irlam – indeed, that everybody not directly concerned, apart from Georgiana, in whom she had confided and who was now safely in Yorkshire – remained in ignorance of her plan and its execution. She would not have been so sanguine if she had been privileged to read the letter that Cassandra dashed off to the Duchess of Northriding as soon as she arrived home, and she would have been quite appalled if it had been possible to overhear the conversation the Countess had with her lord when next they encountered each other.

Cassandra had almost finished dressing when Hal lounged into her chamber; she dismissed her maid Kitty with a smile. Or attempted to. Kitty could not be described as the regular sort of lady's maid, but was a tall, imposing, buxom and outspoken countrywoman who had known Lord Irlam from the cradle, and although she took her leave, she did so shaking her head and muttering that she could tell they were hatching some mischief between them, and not to come running to her when it blew up in their faces. ‘We won't,' said Hal, bussing his old nurse soundly upon both cheeks and practically pushing her out of the room.

He turned to survey his wife, who was looking particularly becoming in an evening gown of deepest indigo velvet, which flattered her pale skin and flaming curls. He was obliged to tell her so, and kiss her shoulders and her graceful neck, and it was a little while before he gathered his wits enough to ask her what he had come on purpose to enquire: ‘Is she coming?'

‘Yes, she has agreed to stay with us, and did not think it the least odd that I should ask her, as far as I can tell.'

‘Good. And can you divine what she thinks of him – are her affections in the least engaged? The poor fellow is at the end of his tether, you know, and we must do anything we can to help him.'

‘I don't know,' said Cassandra, lovingly smoothing back the rakish black lock that fell across her husband's forehead and would not be tamed. ‘She was initially very nervous when I arrived, and I'm not quite sure why.'

‘Perhaps she has some inkling that he cherishes warm feelings towards her, and is wary of him and of his family as a result?'

‘I couldn't tell. Possibly. At any rate, I was very clever and put her in a position where she had no choice but to accept my invitation; I can't say if she thought I was matchmaking or not, but in any case, I'm tolerably sure she has not the least suspicion of me or my intentions. I hope she does care for him – I do like her, Hal, and I'm sure you will too. There's something straightforward about her that is very engaging.'

‘Leo's head over heels in love with her and that's good enough for me. I only hope the whole affair isn't as desperate as the poor fellow seems convinced it is. But I dare say we shall know soon enough!'