“We are. The duke is my cousin, so he will hardly throw us out.”
“But… but we are nobody to him,” Ruth said in a small voice.
“You are my guests, so he will welcome you as he welcomes everyone. You need not be afraid of him just because he is a duke, you know. A duke is just a man, after all. He is the most tremendous fun — the whole family is, in fact, and they will be delighted to meet you.”
The Plowman sisters exchanged glances, clearly not believing a word of it, but the bell on the watchtower clamoured excitedly to announce their arrival, and before the carriage had even stopped moving, a stream of people poured down the steps to greet them. Within moments they were helped down from the carriage, and wreathed in a cloud of assorted ducal relations, all beaming happily at them, and sweeping them up the steps into the hall. Izzy recognised the duke and duchess and a few of their immediate family, who were regularly in London, but there were many faces unknown to her.
But there, emerging from the throng, was one whom Izzy knew very well.
“Mama! Oh, Mama!”
Her mother wrapped her in a warm embrace, and whether it was the familiarity of home, or that well-remembered perfume, or just the relief of seeing someone she knew and loved and need not pretend to, but Izzy felt tears start to her eyes. How foolish! Shaking her head in bemusement at her own sentimentality, she laughed and murmured, “It is wonderful to see you, Mama.”
Then there was the business of introducing the Plowman sisters. The duke introduced himself and the duchess, saying briskly, “No more names, or your heads will spin. Dwyer, prepare rooms for our guests! And tell the kitchen three more for dinner. How delightful this is! Such a happy party we shall be tonight. This way, ladies.”
They were swept into a handsome saloon, glasses of wine pressed into their hands, platters of edible things waved under their noses, while the duke’s family twittered happily around them. Izzy was used to them, but she could see the Plowman sisters were overwhelmed by the effusive welcome.
Mama led Izzy to a quiet corner. “I thought you would be here before too long.”
“Did you? But I am surprised to see you! I thought you were settled at Harfield Priory with Aunt Myrtle.”
Her mother pulled a face. “So I was, but Tess turned up.”
“Tess Nicholson? At the Priory? Good heavens! But where has she been?” Izzy had some sympathy with that. A girl whose father had been brutally murdered might very well want to hide away for a while. Tess Nicholson’s life had been turned upside down just as much as Izzy’s had.
Lady Rennington sighed, her mouth thinning disapprovingly. “She will say nothing about it, she simply arrived on the doorstep one day, and she is up to some mischief, you may be sure. Your Aunt Myrtle thought so too, and was threatening to send for Lord Tarvin, and I cannot abide that man, so I came here instead. There is enough going on here to put Tess Nicholson quite out of my head, thank goodness. Still, her mother is very relieved to have word of her, you may be sure. Alice is outwardly very composed, always, and said that Tess had her maid and footman with her so she could not have got into real trouble, but still, a mother must always worry about her child, and especially a daughter. As I do about you, Izzy dear. You gave us quite a turn when you took off from Durham like that, without a word. I hope you are going to stay here for a while. We can be exiles together, can we not?”
“Are you never going back to Papa?” Izzy said in a small voice.
“No, dear, never,” her mother said serenely. “It is for the best. Whereas for you, it would be much the best thing to marry Ian again. That way you will go on just as before. No one will think any the worse of you for it.”
“Oh, Mama! What an optimist you are! It will be the greatest scandal in the world when it all comes out, as it assuredly will. How will I ever be able to show my face in town again?”
“On your husband’s arm and with a smile, my dear. Naturally there will be gossip, but when they see that you are perfectly respectable, that your husband is content and nothing material has changed, the chatter will fade away. There is always some new shocking story to drive last week’s news out of everyone’s head. And as yet, no one seems to know anything about it, so if you are lucky, you will be quietly remarried to Ian before the whispering even starts.”
“Do the Coulters not know?”
“I told the duke, of course — he is our cousin, and a powerful ally to suppress unpleasantness, but no one else is aware of our situation.”
“The Davenports know. They have acquaintances in town who reported that Walter is there, and not using his title.”
The countess’s face fell. “That had not occurred to me. London is so thin of company at this time of year I thought no one would be there to notice. Still, we must make the best of it. Once you are remarried—”
“How do I know Ian will want to marry me?” Izzy whispered.
“Because he told me so,” Lady Rennington said firmly. “He arrived at the Priory not two days after you had left it, then turned Durham upside down to find out which road you had taken. He swore to follow you until he catches up with you, and then make use of the special licence he carries. He is very determined, Izzy. He cannot be very far behind you, so I dare say he will be here in a day or two.”
Her mother was so confident, but Izzy could not be. Until she saw Ian again, she would not know for certain what options she still had. Perhaps he would take her back, although she could not imagine what she would say to him, or how she could explain herself. Could she ever make him understand? Could he forgive her? A chill ran down her spine. He was the most tolerant of men, but all men have their limits. She could only hope…
Dear Lord, let him not abandon me! Please let him come…
If he should arrive at Lochmaben, then she would know and she could decide what to do. But first, she had to see Robert.
***
When Izzy went to dress for dinner, there was another surprise awaiting her. Brandon, her own maid, met her with an unaccustomed smile, and the room in a high degree of order. Even her miniature of Ian sat on the table beside the bed, as usual. Brandon was surprisingly sentimental about such things, but Izzy was not any more, not with her future in such turmoil. She picked up the miniature and pushed it into a drawer.
Laid out on the bed ready for Izzy to wear was one of the gowns she had left behind in Durham.
