Page 16 of The Rakehell of Roth
“Why?”
“Derrick says it is a den of depravity. And Derrick is the seediest of all my brothers. Trust me, I’ve overheard him tell stories of the parties at that place. How do you think Lady Darcy gets some of her more creative explanations?”
Face aflame, Isobel made a gagging noise. “I don’t want to know aboutDerrick’ssex life.”
Clarissa’s nose wrinkled as her green eyes turned speculative. “Derrick did mention a week ago that it was strange that the marquess was never around.” She frowned. “Don’t you think that’s odd? I mean what if Roth is no longer the rakehell everyone thinks he is?”
Wait,what? Isobel’s heart stuttered in her chest at her friend’s complete turnabout. Had she forgotten that he just fought a blasted duel? Isobel’s irritation sizzled back to the surface. “What about Contessa James, then? He doesn’t want to be married, Clarissa. He’s made that more than clear. He left me alone in Chelmsford forthreeyears. A leopard doesn’t change its spots, no matter how much one might wish it to. Roth is a complete mutton monger!”
Clarissa’s lips twitched at the inventive insult that the man was addicted to wenching, but she shrugged. “People can change.”
“I think too much shopping has addled your mind.”
…
They didn’t speak the entire way back to Vance House. Isobel was fuming. Coming to London with a plan to take down her husband was a far cry from allowing herself to believe he had been miraculously cured of being a complete scoundrel. Yes, his sister’s death was tragic, but that didn’t change who he was. It wasafterPrudence’s death that the rotter had chosen to leave her and abandon her.
Winter Vance deserved what was coming to him.
She glanced over at Clarissa, whose face was openly remorseful. Isobel sighed. She could never remain angry with her friend for long. The carriage rolled to a stop, and just as Isobel opened her mouth to apologize, the door was pulled open. Her groom stood there, his pale face wreathed in worry.
“Randolph? What is it? Is it Hellion?”
“There’s been a fire, my lady,” he said. “Hellion is safe, but others in the mews have not fared so well. Someone left a lit cheroot and the hay caught fire. The blaze was contained, but the smoke is still thick.”
She descended and made to dash around the back of the residence to the mews, but the groom cleared his throat and blocked her way. “It’s not safe, milady.”
“Randolph, move,” she said with a glare when he wouldn’t let her pass.
Clarissa tugged on her sleeve. “He’s right, Isobel. The men will have been instructed to keep anyone away for safety. Especially the lady in residence.”
“ButHellion…” Perhaps it was silly, but Isobelneededto see her mare. She needed to hold her, make sure she was all right. Hellion had become so much more than a pet to her. The horse was family.
“I know,” Clarissa soothed. “Randolph has told you she’s fine. Listen to him.”
Isobel bit her lip and nodded. The groom, seemingly mollified that she would stay put, disappeared back to the stables.
But the worry would not leave her as they entered the house.
Struck with an idea, she raced upstairs then discarded the dress she’d been wearing, shucked on a pair of old trousers, a linen shirt, a brown coat, and worn boots that she’d used to train Hellion at Kendrick Abbey. All things she could get dirty.
Clarissa gasped as she made to leave her chambers. “Izzy, what are you doing? You cannot run down willy-nilly to the mews dressed like that. This isn’t like in Chelmsford where you could do as you please. It’s not proper. EvenIknow that.”
Isobel knotted her hair and tucked it into the tweed cap she held in hand. “There,” she said, ignoring Clarissa’s disapproving glare. “I look like a boy. No one in society will know and all proper female reputations will be guarded from infamy and shame.” Isobel glanced down at herself with a grin. “Never thought I’d thank the heavens for my nonexistent chest and stick-figure body.”
“If I can’t stop you, at least wear this.” Clarissa fumbled in her pockets and handed Isobel a gray square of cloth that had ties on the sides. “The maids use it for dusting.”
Isobel narrowed her gaze. “Why doyouhave it?”
“I might have nicked it to do some snooping,” Clarissa said, cheeks pink.
Snooping where? The only people in residence were the two of them, the twins, and the duke, and Oliver, from time to time. Curious, Isobel wanted to press the issue and Clarissa’s obvious secrets, but she also wanted to check on Hellion. She narrowed her eyes on her friend. “This isn’t over. Confessions on the snooping when I return.”
“Isobel…”
“I know, I’ll be careful, I promise.”
She fastened the cloth and raced downstairs to the kitchens before jogging to the mews. As she’d expected, no one spared her a second glance. She was dressed like every other servant running around and carrying buckets of water. The men all had rags tied around their noses and mouths. The stench of smoke was heavy in the air as Randolph had said. She located him where he stood next to a smoking paddock and tapped him on his shoulder.
