“Robert Osborn, when did you become such a patronising prig?” Izzy said into a room fallen suddenly silent. “All your problems amount to is that you have suddenly become extremely wealthy. Sohirepeople to advise you. Your situation is one that goes on up and down the land every year. A man dies, his eldest surviving son inherits. It is not the end of the world. Whereasmysituation—”
She had let her temper get the better of her again. When would she ever learn? And yet, he needed to know. So when Lizzie said in puzzled tones, “Your situation, Izzy?”, Izzy lifted her chin defiantly.
“My situation is not one that arises every day. Or at all, perhaps. You remember the family chaplain at Corland — theone who was murdered? He married me to Farramont five years ago. Now it transpires that he was never ordained as a clergyman, so my marriage is invalid. My daughters are illegitimate, and I — I am not married at all. So pray do not complain to me aboutyour situation, Robert. Duchess, we have been here for half an hour. I am quite ready to depart whenever you are.”
18: Indecision
AUGUST
Izzy had no idea what to make of Robert. Unlike Marsden and Davenport, he did not even look the same to her eyes. She remembered a man who smiled all the time, who was constantly light-hearted and amusing. Her father had called him a fribble, and she could understand that, for Robert had never seemed to have a serious thought in his head. Whereas now, he was mired in dreary practicalities, and could think of nothing but his own difficulties.
Her mother had suggested a second visit, for she had had word from London friends that she thought might interest the Osborn ladies. Meekly, and grateful for her mama’s helpfulness, Izzy went with her. This was a longer visit, with refreshments offered, but although Izzy spent some time talking to Robert, he was still far too caught up in tedious matters of estate management.
“What do you think, Izzy?” he said several times, after describing some trivial matter of a broken fence or a leaking roof.
“You should ask your steward,” Izzy said. “He is the best person to advise you. He knows the tenants, after all.”
“Oh, he says it can wait until the autumn, but Lizzie thinks it should be done at once, and Mama does not see that it needs doing at all. They have managed this long, after all, so why can they not manage a bit longer? Or fix it themselves, if it troubles them so much.”
“Why not ask the duke?” Izzy said. “He is a fellow landowner, and he has been settled here his whole life, so he knows what the locals expect.”
“What they expect!” Robert said. “I suppose I should talk to the tenants themselves about it, should I not? And their neighbours…”
“And the parson, the miller, the smith, the sexton, the farrier and the old lady who polishes the brasses in the church,” Izzy said impatiently. “Perhaps there may be an urchin or two roaming the lanes whose opinions you have not yet sought. Heavens, Robert, were you always so indecisive?”
“But it is sodifficult!”he wailed.
Izzy found him incomprehensible. Whatever had become of the carefree young man with the laughing eyes who had so enchanted her? Surely he was still there, buried temporarily by responsibility, but perhaps he could yet be found?
Accordingly, when it became clear that no further chaperoned visits were forthcoming, she asked for a horse and rode over to Strathinver, with a groom in attendance. Perhaps if she could get Robert alone she would be able to recover some part of the closeness they had once enjoyed? Or had she merely imagined that?
She was out of luck, for although she saw Robert, the ladies were in, too, and she could see that they were suspicious of her now. As well they might be, she supposed. Yet surely they wanted Robert to marry and produce the requisite heir? He needed a wife, and why should it not be her?
Yet here she unexpectedly quailed. For five years, she had been Ian’s wife, and she had grown accustomed to that. Did she truly want to marry Robert? Not as he was now, but if she could rediscover the old, charming Robert?Thatwas the man she had loved… and yet… there was Ian. So familiar, so comfortable, so good to her. True, he was not romantic or poetic or exciting, perhaps, but reliable. He had not changed into some person she did not recognise.
If he should come to find her… but he had not. Despite Mama’s confident prediction, he had not yet come, and after almost a week, she began to doubt that he ever would.
So she must pin her hopes on Robert, despite the unpromising signs so far. There was no opportunity on this visit to talk to him as she had hoped, and certainly the ladies were not going to leave her alone with him. All she could do was smile and return to Lochmaben, hoping to try again another day.
And still she had no idea what she truly wanted. Ian or Robert? The old, familiar life or a new, different one? Safety or recklessness? A distant affection or love? She was as indecisive as Robert.
***
As Ian left Harringdon Hall, a summer shower descended.
“Are you sure you will not stay another day?” Davenport said, peering out of the front door at the grey clouds and slanting rain. “It is not the weather for travelling.”
“I have delayed longer than I intended already,” Ian said. “You will keep an eye on young Bayton, now that he has his house back?”
“Of course. Two of the cousins will stay there for a while, just to ensure that the Hearles do not weasel their way back in, he has Sophie to keep house for him and Barty is there, too, and he is fiercely loyal to the Baytons. Who is he precisely, do you know?”
“Not the least idea, except that he is a gentleman, or was reared as one. Thank you for your hospitality, Davenport. I am sorry that Izzy ruined this marriage for you.”
“I think she did me a good turn. I never liked the idea above half, and now I have the chance to make a better match, one more suited to my own wishes. And you have done us an even better turn, Farramont. Father has his land back and will be able to see out his final days in this world in peace.”
“Then some good has come of Izzy’s interference,” Ian said. “I am glad of it. And now I must be away, rain or no rain.”
“May I wish you success in your enterprise,” Davenport said, as the two men shook hands. “Give my regards to the duke and duchess, and to Lady Rennington.”
