“Are you related to the late Countess of Saunders?” Lady Edson questioned Isabella, seating herself in the only available chair at the table, without waiting to be invited. “Your resemblance to Emmeline is quite marked.”
“No, Lady Edson, I am not a relative of the late countess,” Isabella said tartly. The last thing she wanted was to encourage a conversation with the overly curious Lady Edson. And Isabella was becoming heartily sick of continually being informed of her resemblance to the earl’s deceased wife.
“Miss Browning is the children’s new governess,” Jenkins supplied, obviously attempting to put an end to Lady Edson’s growing interest in Isabella.
“A governess!” Lady Edson looked shocked. “You cannot mean to say you are actually going to live at The Grange, Miss Browning?”
“I believe it is customary for a governess to reside with her charges, Lady Edson,” Isabella said, puzzled at the woman’s odd reaction.
“Oh, my dear, I feel compelled to warn you that you are making a dreadful mistake,” Lady Edson insisted dramatically. “No respectable woman would willingly become a member of the earl’s household. Her reputation would be compromised beyond repair.”
“Why is that, Lady Edson?” Isabella glanced over at Jenkins and saw the annoyed expression in the servant’s eyes.
“ ’Tis common knowledge that the earl cannot be trusted to act with honor when it comes to his dealings with women,” Lady Edson announced with pompous authority.
Isabella eyed Lady Edson thoughtfully, trying to determine if she was sincere. Jenkins had warned Isabella that the earl’s self-imposed isolation had made him a target of wild rumors concerning his treatment of women, but Jenkins had not elaborated on any of the details.
“I assume you are speaking from personal experience, Lady Edson, when making such a serious charge?”
“Not precisely,” Lady Edson admitted in a reluctant tone. “I have not actually spoken to the earl since his wife’s accident. But I have heard, from a most reliable source, that the earl has seduced several innocent young maids in his household.” Lady Edson leaned towards Isabella and whispered conspiratorially, “ ’Tis said that three of these poor unfortunate girls are now carrying a child.”
Isabella sputtered loudly, nearly choking on the lukewarm chocolate she was drinking. Her face flamed with embarrassment over the outrageous statements made by Lady Edson. Even given her own biased opinion of the earl, Isabella could not credit such a tale.
She glanced up at Jenkins. The gleam of fury in the valet’s eyes confirmed that Lady Edson’s accusations were as ridiculous as they sounded. Isabella furrowed her brow in annoyance. All her life she had encountered women like Lady Edson, who relished unsavory and damaging gossip about others and had no compunction in repeating those unverified barbs. Isabella felt ashamed to have listened to such drivel.
Pushing aside her own doubts about the earl’s character, Isabella felt compelled to put Lady Edson in her place. She gritted her teeth and considered a variety of scathing retorts, the majority of which would have stunned and perhaps embarrassed Jenkins.
“I do thank you, Lady Edson, for warning me of the unfair, unfounded, and clearly untrue rumors circulating about the earl. Since I, like yourself, am a woman of good breeding and impeccable manners, I shall not demean myself by responding to such blatant falsehoods.”
“I don’t believe you understand, Miss Browning.”
“Oh, but I do, Lady Edson,” Isabella insisted, rising to her feet. She inclined her head regally, with mocking politeness. “I understand that rumors and innuendo of this nature can actually be believed by individuals who do not possess the brains the good Lord gave them to see these rumors for the vicious lies they are. Fortunately, I possess enough common sense not to believe such rubbish. I would like to assume you do as well.”
Lady Edson bit her lip, clearly annoyed at being so neatly outmaneuvered. There was no way to respond without looking like a fool. She cast a chilling stare at Isabella and tilted her long nose skyward. Murmuring a hasty farewell, she rose quickly, turning her back on Isabella and Jenkins. Muttering under her breath, Lady Edson strode from the table.
Isabella seized the opportunity to make her own hasty departure.
“What a perfectly odious woman,” Isabella muttered to Jenkins as she accepted his escort out of the inn. The valet cast a thoughtful eye at Isabella and grinned broadly.
The journey resumed. Isabella settled herself comfortably in the coach and watched the passing countryside with distracted interest. Every time she thought about her conversation with Lady Edson, she became incensed all over again, angry at the statements made against the earl. It seemed an ironic turn of fate that she would be his champion, considering all that had passed between them. But listening to Lady Edson malign the earl’s character had caused something to snap in Isabella. She knew all too well the pain of being misunderstood and unfairly judged by others.
And yet, as the carriage carried her closer to the earl, a nagging voice inside Isabella insistently reminded her that most rumors, twisted and turned as they were, usually held a grain of truth.
Chapter Six
The warm sunshine improved the condition of the muddy roads, and the coach was able to travel through the western countryside at a clipping pace. To distract herself, Isabella concentrated on the scenic views outside her carriage window of rich pasturelands, grazing livestock, and lush green fields dotted by clumps of woodlands and divided by broad thorn hedges. Set back from the road on the hills, fine manor houses, in a vast array of architectural styles, peeped through the trees.
Before reaching the earl’s estate, the carriage rode through the village of Halford. Cottages with dormer windows fronted by neatly tended walled gardens overlooked the narrow main street. Isabella was fascinated by the unusual village. It was a remote, windswept hilltop community, with red brick and gray stone houses that were clustered around a variety of spacious greens. As they rolled down the main street, Isabella’s attention was snared by a simple Tudor cottage. It was a timber-framed building with leaded windows, a tiled roof, and walls that bowed visibly with age.
“We are approaching Whatley Grange, Miss Browning. We should arrive home within the hour.”
Isabella’s stomach clenched at Jenkins’s innocent announcement. Now that the moment of encountering the earl was rapidly approaching, Isabella’s doubts were returning. She imagined a variety of greetings from the earl, none of which were overly pleasant.
All too soon the carriage turned down the long gravel drive to the manor house. Even in her nervous state of anticipation, Isabella could appreciate the grandeur of Whatley Grange—an oddly modest name for such an impressive building. The vast mansion retained much of its Norman ancestry with its turrets and towers, but over the years symmetrical windows, decorative chimneys, and Renaissance ornamentation had been added to soften the fortresslike exterior. It seemed a fitting home for the earl—tall, proud, bold, and impressive. Even the gray stones of the exterior walls matched the earl’s captivating eyes.
Beyond the lawns, Isabella could see the shimmering lake and extensive parklands, as well as the newly planted grain fields and numerous herds of grazing cattle and sheep. Clearly The Grange was as productive as it was magnificent.
When the coach finally came to a halt, Isabella was struggling to master her nerves. She chewed her lip in agitation, straightened her bonnet several times, and repeatedly smoothed the folds of her cloak. Suddenly, the carriage door opened. Isabella straightened her bonnet one last time, took a deep breath, and held out her hand.
