He sighed. “No, of course not. Although I have an idea.” He fell into gloom again. If Marsden had failed her, then she would go to Northumberland next.
“Are you staying, milord? Only I’ll need to warn the cook.”
“One night, at least, I am afraid. I must talk to your husband. I have my valet and a manservant with me.”
“Will they serve at table, milord? Because Mr Symes — that’s Mr Marsden’s man — won’t do it no more, not with me there, and Matthew’s not trained for it. He’s new.”
He assured her on that head, although wondering a little why their footman was so young. He handed his greatcoat, hat and gloves to Wycliffe, then followed Mrs Marsden through long panelled corridors. They passed a room where two maids were busy removing holland covers, clouds of dust filling the air, but the furnishings beneath were solidly built and in good condition. At the very furthest end, she threw open a door.
“Lord Farramont, Mr Marsden.”
“Farramont!” Marsden had been sprawled full length on a chaise longue, but he sprang to his feet with every sign of pleasure. “My dear fellow! What a delightful surprise!”
From the doorway, Mrs Marsden said to Ian, “Would you like anything to eat or drink, milord?”
“Thank you, ma’am, but I see all the refreshment I need on the sideboard there.”
“Very good, milord.” She bobbed another curtsy, more housekeeper than mistress of the house, and disappeared.
“One brandy coming right up,” Marsden said, but then paused, gazing thoughtfully at the brandy glass in his hand. “Does she truly break things, Farramont? Glasses, porcelain…furniture?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, with a little smile. “I lost an heirloom set of four decanters and a dozen glasses before I learnt to put breakable objects out of sight. No, not quite the full dozen. I found one undamaged in the devastation. I drink from that when she is away from home, to remind myself of her.” He paused, the smile widening as he remembered. “There is usually advance warning of the impending storm, so the porcelain goes on a high shelf, the ink pots in a drawer. The furniture… well, that is only in extreme circumstances.”
“You are as insane as she is,” Marsden said. He poured the brandy, and another one for himself, then waved Ian to a chair. “Are you following your wife on her tour of the north? You are well behind her, you know. You will never catch her up.”
“She is bound to stop moving eventually — or run out of money. I shall catch up then.”
“When you do, will you wring that pretty neck of hers for me? She has cut up all my peace, I can tell you. How you put up with her is more than I can tell.”
“What has she done to you, Marsden?” he said, smiling.
“She told Beth about the Generals, that is what she has done.”
“Oh, no!”
“But yes. So unless I do what Beth wants, she will write to all my aunts and they will come here and beat me into submission. I can face a man at dawn — I have done it twice, and never wavered — but I cannot face my aunts. Women!” Marsden sighed. “Do you know why Izzy came here, Farramont?”
Ian shifted uncomfortably. “I… can guess.”
“She wanted to see if I would have suited her better than you.” He chuckled. “We agreed that I would not, even if I had not been already married. Farramont, is it true? That your marriage is invalid?”
“Quite true, but I have a special licence so we will be married again and everything will be as it was.”
“But only if you can catch up with her… before she marries someone else.”
Ian shivered. “She will not,” he said hoarsely. “Shemustnot!”
“But you must know where she will go next.”
He nodded. “Harringdon. Or Strathinver.”
And then he would have lost her for good. He had never felt so empty and alone.
***
Dinner was an odd affair, just Marsden, Mrs Marsden and Ian gathered at one end of a massive dining table. Ian had always thought of Marsden as an urbane man, good company in whatever society he found himself, but tonight he seemed ill at ease, merely toying with his food and staring morosely at his plate.
Mrs Marsden ate sparingly, although she tried every dish. She had no conversation, however. By dogged questioning, Ian discovered that she was the daughter of a local farmer, had several younger brothers and sisters, had never been further than twenty miles from her home and expected to be confinedat Christmas, or a little before. She seemed to have no ambition to be introduced into society at large, and looked terrified at the thought that the local gentry might call on her, or she on them. Her sole interest seemed to be Marsden Hall, and nothing beyond.
