“Is he?”
“How could he not be? He only married me to have an heir, and I have failed him.”
“No doubt he wants an heir, for surely every man does, but he married you for love, Izzy.”
“Nonsense. He has never said or done anything to suggest such a thing.”
“Perhaps you should ask him about it when you see him.”
When you see him.And when would that be? How long was it since she had seen him?
A month! A whole month! A tremor of disbelief ran through her. She had never been apart from him for so long. A week…two weeks, sometimes. But never longer. That time she had decided to stay on for a third week at the Cotterills, he had come out to join her after the second week, bringing her a purse of money.‘In case you run short,’he had said. So generous! He was the best of husbands, in so many ways.
And she had run away from him. If she went home now, would he want her back? Did she still have a home to go back to?
The remainder of the ride was accomplished in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
13: Difficult Times
At dinner that evening, Izzy was firmly detached from any of the men who seemed inclined to crave her company, and placed between Ruth Plowman’s sister and a stiff-backed aunt of Sydney’s who looked her up and down superciliously, and then ostentatiously turned away from her. Izzy always relished a challenge, however, so she set herself to entertain the sister to the utmost of her ability.
Miss Marion Plowman was a shy girl who said little and appeared terrified to find herself in such company. One of the cousins on her other side helped her to food, and although she thanked him readily enough, she initiated no conversation with him, and he soon lost interest in her, leaving her to Izzy. Her first thought was to draw the girl out a little.
“Where did you live before you moved here, Miss Plowman?”
“Carlisle.”
“An interesting place. I have been there two or three times, and always found some amusement there. Did you reside in the city itself, or somewhere nearby?”
“In the city.”
“Very wise. The country is pleasant enough in summer, but in the winter, there is nothing like a town, properly provided with pavements, of course, for keeping one sane. There is always some entertainment to be found, even in bad weather, whereas in the country an inch of snow means that everyone shuts themselves away by the fire, too timid to venture out. Your father’s business was nearby, I take it?”
“Pa’s got mills all over the north,” she said, with obvious pride. She had the same accent as her sister, perhaps a shade more muted, but she spoke in an odd, slow way, with pauses so long between words sometimes that Izzy wondered if another one was coming at all.
“And do you miss city life — the assemblies, the theatre, card parties, dinners with good friends?”
“Oh, no!” she said, sounding almost shocked. “I love it here. I walk a lot. The air is… invigorating.”
Izzy laughed. “You mean the wind howls round.”
“I like wind. I like rain too.”
“Then no wonder you enjoy living here. But you must miss all your friends.”
“I have no friends. Only family. Ruth, mostly.”
She said it without a hint of shame, as if it were commonplace to have no friends. Izzy was shocked beyond measure, for she could not imagine having no friends at all. She had a little notebook with the directions of all her acquaintances, and almost every page was filled. She already had a second book waiting to be filled likewise.
“And is Ruth your best friend?” She nodded. “You will miss her when she marries.”
She shook her head. “I’ll go with her.” But she threw an anxious glance towards her sister on the other side of the table.
“Until you marry yourself, I suppose,” Izzy said.
“Oh, no! I’ll never marry…” A long pause, as she struggled for a word.“Never!”
Well, that was a very decided opinion. Izzy could see that she was a shy creature, and not especially pretty, but there was bound to be a man who would find her attractive, especially if her father had more fields to tempt a suitor.
