“You would not be so cruel,” the countess said. “Please, my lord.”
How interesting that when she had an audience, the countess referred to him by his title rather than his given name.
“I warned you,” Anglesey snapped, every bit as cold. “Now you will suffer the consequences of your misdeeds.”
Tears shone in the widowed countess’s eyes, and Izzy took pity on the woman despite her dislike for her. It seemed that Anglesey did indeed intend to see her turned away without any means of reaching the village, which had been a considerable drive beyond the seemingly endless oak-lined approach.
“Of course you may remain,” she interceded, though she hoped she would neither regret her forwardness in inviting the countess to remain nor her kindness. She did not doubt this woman would prove her enemy, given half a chance.
“You need not show her generosity,” Anglesey bit out, his expression turning harsh once again. “She does not deserve it after what she has done.”
“I told you, I have done nothing,” the countess countered.
“You may remain,” Izzy repeated. “As Barlowe Park’s most recent mistress, your knowledge will prove a boon, I am sure. Your assistance in preparing for the wedding would be most appreciated.”
The countess inclined her head, the only acknowledgment of Izzy’s words she appeared willing to offer. Izzy became aware of Anglesey’s stare on her, assessing. What he saw, she could not say. But apparently, it was enough to relent.
“Find your rooms if you must,” Anglesey allowed grimly. “But be warned, that this is your only second chance. If you cause any further trouble, my reaction will be swift and merciless, and not even my deep respect for my betrothed will hinder it.”
“Of course, my lord.” With that, the countess dipped into a curtsy and took her leave from the great hall.
When she had gone, the earl faced Izzy, passing a hand along his jaw where the beginning of golden bristles glistened on the angle. “You were too kind to her.”
She searched his gaze, her curiosity winning over pride. “There is something between the two of you, beyond the enmity. Is there not?”
He sighed, the sound heavier than it should be for a man of his years and fortune. “There is nothing between us save dislike. She is my burden to bear, but I will not allow her to cause problems for us. For you. You are my priority now, Izzy. Whatever obligation I have to my brother’s widow, as my wife, you will always come first.”
He had not answered her question. Not completely.
“You believe her responsible for the state of Barlowe Park,” she guessed instead.
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I should have known better than to involve her, but as you said, she was the last mistress of this damned place. I have not set foot here in years, and I know absolutely nothing about hosting guests. Coming here for the wedding was a mistake. We ought to have gone to your family’s seat instead, as your sister suggested.”
He seemed genuinely distressed by the disaster that had met them upon their arrival. For all that he had been cuttingly cruel to the widowed countess just now, he had shown Izzy he was capable of gentleness several times.
Izzy reached for his hand, taking herself by surprise with the need to comfort him, so foreign and new, especially with so many things unspoken between them. “My family is a capable lot.”
As if on cue, her boisterous, eccentric family came spilling into the great hall, all talking at once. Anglesey sent her a wry look, and she hastily released his hand as her mother’s sharp gaze settled there.
“That horse is rather out of the stables,” Anglesey muttered, grimly amused.
She found herself struggling to contain her chuckle. At least her new husband appeared to have a sense of humor.
Small mercies, small victories.
One day at a time.
“I saw a mouse,” Corliss announced with a shudder.
“We’re going to have to call in some of the grooms from Talleyrand Park,” Royston said.
“I do believe your butler is hard of hearing, Anglesey,” Papa offered.
“Best send for the butler and cook as well,” said Mama.
One day at a time, Izzy repeated to herself sternly.
CHAPTER8
