For a moment, Izzy was too shocked to speak, but then she began to chuckle. “You old rogue, Godfrey! Parading round town pretending to be single, inspiring who knows what hopes in many a maiden breast, and all the time you have a wife tucked away— Oh! Yourhousekeeper!”
“Yes, Beth Carter, for my sins, and it is all your fault, Izzy Farramont. When you decided to marry Farramont, I thought, well, bad luck for me, but there are plenty more fish in the sea. Another year, another season in town, another crop of hopefuls who will brighten my life the way you did. But they were all dire. You were the great shooting star in the firmament, and they were piffling little candle flames by comparison. You were late in reaching town four years ago because of your first confinement, but when you arrived, you threw everyone into the shade once more. Izzy, you were so… soradiant, that I was dazzled by you all over again. I left town that year in despair. I knew I would never find anyone to compare with you, so I decided I wouldnever marry. Lord, I have spilt half my brandy. That was foolish of me. Look at these breeches — ruined, I dare say.”
“I should think you can afford another pair,” Izzy said, with an indifferent lift of one shoulder. “Do go on, Godfrey. I am longing to know why you married your housekeeper.”
“Of course I can afford another pair! That is not the point. They should have lasted me for years, and now I shall have to throw them away. I cannot abide waste.”
He found another glass and poured himself a generous measure, drinking half of it at a gulp, then threw himself back into his chair. “Do you ever stop moving, Izzy? It is incredibly distracting. Be a good girl, and stopprowling, will you?”
With a huff of displeasure, she perched on the arm of a sofa, one leg kicking. It was as near as she could get to immobility. He glared at her, but made no further complaint, merely taking another large gulp of brandy.
“At the end of the season,” he went on, “I came here and the first thing that happened was that Beth came to hand in her notice, if you please. Two years of this place and she had had enough. Said that twenty pounds a year was not sufficient compensation for the amount of work she had to do, even with most of the house under holland covers. Well, I was not prepared to pay her a penny more, but I could not let her leave. I had lost two housekeepers in three years before that, and I could not see where I could get another. So I married her. And not only can she not leave now, but I no longer even have to pay her.”
He chuckled, but Izzy jumped up, quite unable to respond to this perfidy without prowling.
“So you married her to save yourself twenty pounds a year, did you?” She laughed suddenly. “I think she will cost you a lot more than that in the end, Godfrey. For sons, there will be tutors and school and then Oxford or Cambridge. Younger sons will want a pair of colours bought for them, or a living or two. Anddaughters! Oh, daughters aresoexpensive, you cannot imagine. I was, anyway. You know the cost of a pair of evening breeches, but have you any idea how much it costs to hold a coming-out ball in town? Multiply that by three, at least, to do the season properly. And the dinners, routs, card parties, outings… and the presentation at court. Oh, heavens the court dress! And then there will be—”
“Very amusing, but I am resolved not to bring any children into the world.”
“Such plans tend not to be infallible,” she said gently. “In fact, it may already be too late for such a resolution.”
He groaned. “You mean she is—? Women! Once, I slipped up, just once, and she has to get herself with child. Well, she must rear it herself. I want nothing to do with it.”
Izzy gave a strangled cry of frustration. “Men! Oh, you—!” Then, in alarm, “Quickly, take this glass from me!”
“What? Why?”
But he took it from her all the same, while she paced back and forth, back and forth. If only she were at home, where she could express her feelings openly. But not here.
“What is it, Izzy?”
“Put it out of my reach, or I am liable to throw it at the wall,” Izzy said.
He actually laughed. “That is ridiculous! How melodramatic you are. You should be on the stage.” Then he frowned, wondering. “You would not… would you?”
“I would. Followed byallthe decanters, and then those pretty figurines on the mantelpiece. And ifthatdid not work, I should start overturning furniture.”
“But… but that isshockinglywasteful! Have you any idea how much those decanters cost? And the porcelain — Chantilly, Limoges, Vincenne! Do you do that with Farramont?”
That brought a pang of sorrow. Such a gentle soul, her husband. “I do. He never seems to mind.”
“Well, I would mind!” he said explosively. “If ever you had beenmywife, I would have minded very much, and if you had tried it, I would have had you locked up as a lunatic.”
“Well,” she said, the anger abruptly washed out of her. “That answers the question of whether you would have suited me better than Farramont. You are a mean-spirited nip-cheese, Godfrey Marsden, and I should probably have murdered you within six months.”
“Unless I murdered you first,” he said, scowling. “All these overwrought displays of temper would not suit any rational man, Izzy.” He tossed back the last of his brandy. “I am going to bed.”
He left, leaving Izzy alone in the room. Purely in a spirit of defiance, she refilled her brandy glass almost to the brim. Then she lit every candle she could find, and taking the brandy with her, left the room brilliant with light.
As she passed through the hall on her way to the stairs, she heard a distant sound. Something clattering below stairs? Silence fell again, but the door to the service stairs stood wide open, and Izzy needed no further invitation. Still bearing the brandy glass in one hand and a candlestick in the other, she descended to the basement.
The kitchen was not hard to find, and there, busy scrubbing the kitchen table, was the housekeeper. She looked up briefly and gave Izzy a wan smile, without ceasing the movements of her scrubbing brush. From the scullery beyond came the sounds of splashing and an occasional murmur of voices.
Izzy set her candle and brandy glass on the dry end of the table, and sat down. “You should not be doing that, Mrs Marsden.”
The scrubbing stopped abruptly. “He told you, then?”
Izzy nodded.
