He closed his eyes and wept — for Izzy, for his daughters, but most of all, for himself.
6: Marsden Hall
Izzy paced back and forth in the rather dingy hotel room. Three days in Scarborough and she was ready to scream. But with so many prominent people visiting, it was the best place to obtain all the useful newspapers.
At least she had good company. Sophie Bayton had been one of her friends during that unforgettable first season in town, the sort of friend who never minded if Izzy had more partners at a ball, or more flowers sent the next day, or more invitation cards on her mantelpiece. At the end of that season, Izzy had married Ian and Sophie had married Martin Hearle, and their ways had parted, but they had written often, and Izzy had been truly sorry when first Sophie’s father and then her husband had died. Since her brother was in India, Sophie had gone to live with Martin’s relations, and that was when her letters had ceased.
Now Izzy knew the reason why — her husband’s family had been treating her like an unpaid servant. And now her brother Olly had returned from India wraith-like from long illness. His weathered complexion from years of exposure to the sun hid theworst of it, but he still tired easily. Was there no end to their bad luck?
But they were cheerful and willing, and kept Izzy amused during long hours of confinement in the chaise, or in overnight stays in indifferent inns. Each morning during their stay at Scarborough, they had ventured out to obtain the latest newspapers.
“Here are all we could find,” Sophie said, as she and Olly came back to their hotel that morning. “Two London newspapers, that is all, but several others… Newcastle, York, Hull, another from Newcastle, Leeds—”
“The Hull one,” Izzy said. Quickly she flipped through the pages to find the society notices. “Ah! Here it is at last. He is at home — excellent. How useful it is to have all one’s comings and goings announced in the newspapers. Olly, engage a post chaise and pair, if you please, to leave as soon as it can be ready for us.”
“Where to?”
“Marsden Hall. Near Kilnwick on the Wolds. Wherever that is.”
Olly nodded, grinning at the prospect of moving on at last, and disappeared on his errand.
Sophie’s eyebrows rose at the name, for she surely recognised it, but she said only, “Tired of Scarborough at last?”
“Heartily,” Izzy said with feeling. “I have never liked the place much, even when every other circumstance is favourable. Seaside resorts are full of people who have uprooted themselves from civilisation, and having gone to so much trouble, are determined to be pleased about it, even when there is nothing to do or see, and no people of fashion to make that circumstance tolerable. It would not be so bad if we could go to the theatre.”
Sophie laughed. “Easy for you to say, Izzy, but for us this is a rare treat, even without the improvements to our wardrobes that you have seen fit to bestow on us. I am very glad to escapefrom Martin’s relations for a while, so I do not repine about the details. A little jaunt along the coast is just the thing to raise my spirits, and Olly’s, too. He has come on wonderfully already.”
Izzy smiled at her, and gave her hand a squeeze. “It delights me to see Olly improving so much, and that strained look on your face fading a little with every day that passes. What a miserable life you were leading in Durham.”
“Olly certainly, for the Hearles would have thrown him out if they had known he was there. There is no Christian charity in their souls, not even for a sick man. I am so grateful to the man who brought him to me from the ship, for poor Olly was so feverish he hardly knew where he was or what he was doing. He would have died but for his friend. I managed to hide him, for my room was a little apart from the others, but poor Olly could not leave it except at night, sometimes. I could not afford proper food for him, that was the worst of it. I used to take a mug of soup to my room each night… for my supper, I told the cook, and since it would have been thrown away else, or eaten by the servants, she allowed it. Apart from that, it was bits of stale bread or cake, whatever I could hide in my reticule or work bag, and his friend brought bits and pieces, too, whatever scraps he could get. No meat, and there was no money to buy any. You cannot imagine what a treat it is to have proper meals again. We are very grateful, as I am sure you know.”
“Since you tell me so a hundred times a day, I can be in no doubt about it,” Izzy said. “But asIkeep tellingyou, the gratitude is all on my side. I could not have managed this trip without you, my dear friend. Or Olly. It is such a comfort to have a man with us. One man with a loud voice can achieve better service at inns and hotels than any number of females, even one so young as he is. But he will soon be well enough to take possession of Bayton House again, and that will be so comfortable for both of you.”
Sophie’s eyes dropped, and she looked conscious. There was some difficulty with the house, but unless they confided in her, Izzy could do nothing about it.
Avoiding the subject of Bayton House, Sophie said, “You would have no difficulty with service if you travelled in your own carriage with your own servants and your own name. I wish I knew what game you are playing, Izzy. I will not quiz you about it, for your secret is your own, but I wonder at it, all the same. Does Lord Farramont know what you are up to?”
But Izzy only laughed. If Sophie would not share her secrets, she could hardly expect Izzy to share hers. “Ian brought me here shortly after we were married, for a few days. It rained every day, as I recall. He thought it would compensate me for not going to Brighton that year. It was my own fault, for wanting to be married from home by our own chaplain. If we had stayed in town and been married there, we could have gone to Brighton. I have been well punished forthatmistake!”
“Not going to Brighton?” Sophie said, puzzled.
“Going home to be married by the chaplain. That man!” The familiar rage bubbled up inside her, and she paced across the room to dispel some, at least, of the anger. It would never dissipate entirely. How could it? Arthur Nicholson, her own uncle by marriage, had ruined her life, and her father and husband had stood by and allowed it to happen.
No. He wasnother husband. She must keep reminding herself of that.
Olly came back with the news that the post chaise was ordered, but the postilion was not confident she would reach Marsden Hall in one day.
“It is three stages, and although you might be lucky in Bridlington, you might end up in some tiny little wayside inn for the Sabbath. Ostler recommends you stay in Bridlington.”
“Very well. If we must.”
“Ostler was informative about Marsden Hall. Mr Marsden is a single gentleman of great fortune, seemingly. Lives alone.”
He eyed Izzy speculatively.
“He is an old friend,” she said. “Besides, I am a married woman with another married woman as chaperon, if that is what concerns you.”
“And is Mr Marsden expecting you?”
