Ian grunted an acknowledgement, and strode out through the rain to enter the carriage. Izzy’s carriage, which always made him smile, with its jaunty blue paint and yellow wheels. He felt rather guilty imposing his wet garments on its velvet seats, but he could not wait until the rain stopped. He must catch up with Izzy and get matters settled between them once and for all.
If there was anything left to be settled, that is. Perhaps even now she had already reached an understanding with Osborn… Kiltarlity. He had to know, once and for all, and he could not face the prospect of arriving at Lochmaben and having to be polite, and exchange civil nothings with everyone there, withoutknowing.His whole future hung by a thread and he could not bear the uncertainty a moment longer.
And he could not face Izzy. How could he look into her eyes, those glorious, much-loved eyes, and see… what would he see? Exultation? Or pity? Either would be beyond his ability to cope, and he could not,wouldnot, break down in front of her.
So he would go to Strathinver and talk privately to Kiltarlity, and then he would know.
The rain-drear landscape rolled past without him seeing it. The carriage jolted from one hole to the next, or splashed through puddles, and he noticed none of it. Only the turn into the drive woke him from his stupor.
“Almost there, my lord,” Wycliffe said, in sympathetic tones. Like any good valet, he read his master’s moods like a book.
Then they were slowing, stopping. Samuel jumped down from the box to open the door. At least the rain had just about stopped. Ian swept up the steps and jangled the bell. Then, when no one came, rapped on the knocker and rang the bell again.
The door opened a crack and a face peered out suspiciously. “Yes?”
“Lord Farramont to see Lord Kiltarlity,” Ian said to the butler’s disapproving frown.
The man’s face lifted. “Ah. Pray enter, my lord. I shall just inform his lordship of your arrival.”
Ian gazed around the gloomy hall with raised eyebrows. Everything seemed designed to depress the spirits, the floor black marble, the wood panels darkest oak and the ceiling, which might once have been white, stained a dingy brown from centuries of candle smoke and badly swept chimneys. A few heraldic banners, all in need of a good scrub, hung limply from a balcony.
But the face that peered at him over the banners was smiling. “Monty? Monty! It is you, as I live and breathe! Come up, dear fellow, come up at once.”
Ian took the stairs two at a time, passing the butler on his stately way down, who promptly turned and followed him up again in the same regal manner.
Kiltarlity stood beside an open door. “Come inside and tell me all your news. Winthrop, bring some food for my guest and a bottle of something… claret, the decent stuff. Good Lord, Monty, you are a long way from home. But I know what brings you here. Are you come to take that wife of yours home?”
A burst of hope roared through Ian — surely he could not smile and speak so easily if he were about to marry Izzy himself! “If I can. Is she here?”
“Not here, no, although my mother and sisters are here, so it would not be improper, but she is with the Lochmabens.”
“Still? I know she went there first but…”
“Her mother is at Lochmaben. Much more the thing for her to stay there.”
“Yes, of course it is, but when did Izzy ever care aboutthe thing?Well, I am glad she has not inflicted herself on you, Kiltarlity.”
The earl winced. “Oh, that name! I cannot get used to it. It should not be mine at all, if there were any justice in the world. Three older brothers, Monty — three! That should be security enough, should it not? But no, and how did it fall to me, this plum dropping into my lap? Not by any virtue, of that you may be sure. No, I inherited because I was a lazy, good-for-nothing scapegrace, too idle to work for a living. While I was racketing around town and enjoying myself, my brothers were all fighting for their King… doing their duty. And now they have paid the price for their loyalty, and I, the worthless youngest son, inherit everything. Never was a legacy less deserved.”
“And yet, God willed it so,” Ian said equably, happy to talk about anything but Izzy at that moment. Kiltarlity’s manner gave him greater hope with every word he spoke. “I had two older brothers, too, but at least mine had the grace to die in childhood, so I had time to prepare for what was to come. Even so, it is overwhelming at first — the responsibility.”
“Exactly so! I have calculated that I have almost two hundred people dependent on me — my own family, indigent cousins, elderly relicts, old retainers on pensions, servants, tenant farmers… even the fellow who oils all the hinges every week.”
“He cannot be solely dependent on you, surely?”
“But he is! He is too old for regular work, and his only son was killed in that God-awful business in the American continent. His daughter is married to a blacksmith and is hard put to it to feed her own children, so I let him live in his cottage rent-free, the parson sees that he has help in the garden and a hot meal every day, and I pay him to oil hinges, when I have six footmen and a butler perfectly capable of doing that job. Or I could do it myself, as I used to do before this wretched title fell onto my head. How do you cope with it, Monty?”
“As a mere viscount, I cannot claim my situation is in any way comparable to the travails of an earldom.”
Kiltarlity gave a wan smile at this sally. “You are a good fellow, my friend. Ah, here is Winthrop with our refreshments. Excellent! You will stay here, Monty? Or are you chasing down to Lochmaben?”
“I should like to stay here, if I may, Kiltarlity.”
“Splendid! See to it, will you, Winthrop?” There was silence while the butler methodically handed out glasses of claret and arranged trays of edibles on tables beside the two men’s chairs, but once he had withdrawn, Kiltarlity went on eagerly, “Now, tell me if you will what is really going on between you and that wife of yours, because Lady Farramont gave me some tale aboutyour marriage being invalid and the children being illegitimate. Is there any truth in that?”
The pain was back again. He only spoke so easily because he was uncertain of how matters stood.
“It is perfectly true. Is thatallyou know of matters with the Athertons, Kiltarlity? Ofourmarriage? For it is far worse than that.”
