Page 51 of Lady Controversial
A short time later she was sitting in front of a roaring fire, eating coddled eggs and drinking hot tea. Alice had run out of things to do, had grown tired of asking oblique questions about Isolda’s circumstances—questions that Isolda managed to deflect, much to the girl’s obvious disappointment. She had returned to the main house and her duties there with no fresh news to impart that would satisfy the collective curiosity of the inhabitants of the servants’ hall.
Isolda examined the shelf of books she had not noticed the evening before, as well as an escritoire equipped with writing materials and a small pianoforte in one corner. Isolda did not play but Jane was a proficient pianist and frequently complained about the lack of an instrument at Rose Cottage. At least there would be something here to occupy her sister’s time, other than daydreaming about the earl’s intentions and getting carried away with fanciful notions.
An hour later, the sound of wheels on gravel had Isolda pressing her nose to the window glass. A gentleman descended from one of the earl’s carriages. Isolda didn’t know him but he so closely resembled the earl that they had to be related. He held out a hand and helped a beaming Jane to alight, providing the same service for Gladys and Mrs Compton, who was closely followed by an excited Brutus. The earl’s relative seemed inordinately attentive to Jane, who smiled up at him and batted her lashes when the young man secured her hand in the crook of his arm.
Before they reached the door, Brutus barked and bounded off. Something had attracted him, and when the earl himself came into view with Brutus dancing around his heels she realised what it had been.
‘Brutus might be equal to facing him but I am unsure if I am,’ she said aloud, aware that she had no choice and that she must again resume her neglected duties as head of her motley family. The time for self-indulgence was at an end.
Would she ever be ready to face the earl, she wondered, as she took a deep breath and opened the door to welcome the newcomers.
‘Isolda, this is…unexpected,’ Jane said, sounding remarkably mature and failing for once to gush with excitement.
‘Ladies.’ The earl walked into the room, seeming to dominate it with his commanding presence. ‘Miss Crawley, may I make my brother Felix known to you.’
‘Your servant, Miss Crawley,’ Felix replied affably, bowing over her hand. ‘It’s the greatest possible pleasure, I do assure you.’ But his glance had already returned to Jane as he finished his greeting.
Isolda and Mrs Compton exchanged a glance, both doubtless thinking that Jane, if she was willing to lower her sights, had managed to acquire an admirer who was in a position to provide her with the lifestyle she craved. The earl had noticed too, Isolda realised, and she wondered how he felt about that situation. From the guarded nature of his expression, it was impossible for Isolda to gauge his reaction.
The bustle of arrival and the desire to explore the cottage, no doubt because Felix had offered to be her escort, occupied Jane and Isolda found herself alone with Ellery.
‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘I suspect your lady mother will not appreciate our presence here, and it cannot be kept from her.’
‘I hope you and your sister will dine with us tonight.’
‘No, thank you. That will not be possible,’ Isolda shook her head decisively. ‘It would not do to excite expectations.’ She nodded in the direction that Jane and Felix had just taken. ‘Besides, I very much doubt whether your mother will welcome our presence at her table. We are not considered to be quite the thing, you know.’
Ellery waved her objections aside. ‘You are in no position to decline,’ he pointed out.
‘In which case it is very impolite of you to press home your advantage,’ she replied, shaking a finger at him.
Ellery laughed, as much at his ease as she was a bundle of nervous uncertainty. ‘I plan to shamelessly exploit whatever opportunities come my way in my dealings with you, sweet Isolda,’ he said in a softly persuasive drawl that made her spine tingle. ‘Do not accuse me later of failing to warn you.’
‘Fortunately, I am aware that we have a common enemy and that you require my cooperation to defeat him. For that reason I shall not read more into your declaration than was intended by it.’
His smile was a seductive challenge. ‘Even you cannot possibly know what my intentions are.’
‘Behave yourself, Lord Finchdean,’ Isolda chastised. ‘You might be a proficient flirt but I have not perfected the art, and I’m sure I must make an easy target for a man with nothing better to do with his time.’ Her expression sobered. ‘Speaking of targets, I think it very likely that Mr Barker will have revealed my identity to Lord Brooke by now,’ she said, biting her lip. ‘He will know the moment he goes to Rose Cottage and finds we have quit it that he’s definitely discovered my secret and then…well, I don’t know what will happen, but I do fear for Jane’s wellbeing.’
‘Not your own?’
‘I keep telling you,’ she replied impatiently, ‘that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.’
‘Of course you are.’ He smiled at her. ‘As to Brooke, I very much hope that he will go to Rose Cottage. In fact, I depend upon it. I have left someone watching the place for that precise reason. Brooke will be followed to wherever he’s hiding himself away in such a cowardly fashion…’
‘Crawley Place, surely.’ Isolda raised a brow in surprise. ‘It does now belong to him.’
‘But is closed up, I have good reason to know. I suspect that he cannot afford to run the place.’
‘But…I don’t understand.’ Isolda nibbled the end of her index finger in thoughtful contemplation. ‘He specifically invited Jane and me to live there.’
‘We shall ask him when we find him. However, when we discover his present whereabouts, I shall have a better idea of how to proceed.’
‘You can begin by demanding he pay me my winnings for last night’s match. I was not there for the good of my health, as I’m sure you realise.’ Brutus, who had flopped down in front of the fire, jumped to his feet and into Isolda’s lap, landing there with a soft thud and a fiercely wagging tail.
Ellery nodded. ‘I have that in hand already,’ he promised.
‘What of Henry and the chickens?’ she asked, belatedly recalling both and glancing up at Ellery for clarification.
