‘I know all about my late husband’s unhappy life, Lady Kendall. Seb... Lord Somerton tells me that your relationship with my late husband was no more than platonic. Is that true?’
Georgiana Kendall’s shrewd eyes held hers, but she was prevented from answering by the reappearance of the maid with the tea tray. Neither woman spoke while Isabel poured tea and handed a bowl to her guest.
Lady Kendall took a delicate sip and looked up. ‘It is quite true. Anthony loved only one woman in his life, Lady Somerton, and that was you.’
‘Sadly, I don’t believe he truly knew how to love a woman,’ Isabel said.
‘Maybe not,’ Georgiana responded. She set the bowl back on the saucer. ‘But I would not have you continue to think the worst of me… or of him. His feelings for you were confused, but genuine. I was but a friend to Anthony. No more.’
Isabel cocked her head, looking directly at the woman. ‘Just a friend’ had not been the impression conveyed by either party, but it no longer mattered. Anthony was dead, and, in his memory, she could forgive this woman.
‘I came to tell you that I am selling my home in Lincolnshire and moving away from the area. Too many memories, Lady Somerton. With Harry’s unexpected departure for the colonies, I find myself craving some bright company, so I intend to move back to London.’
Sebastian had told Isabel of Harry Dempster’s sudden decision to seek adventures in the far-off colony of New SouthWales. She wondered if there was more to the story than Sebastian was prepared to tell her, but she had learned not to pry. If he wanted to confide in her, he would do so in his own time.
Isabel allowed herself a smile. ‘Our company is not bright enough for you?’
Lady Kendall’s lips twitched. ‘In honesty, my dear Lady Somerton, there is a certain recently widowed earl currently in London with whom I wish to get better acquainted.’
‘Ah, I see.’
Isabel felt a pang of regret. All the time she had thought of Lady Kendall as her rival, only to see that she could have been her friend.
‘I hope it is not any antipathy on my part that drives you away, Lady Kendall,’ she said.
Georgiana smiled. ‘Not at all. I would like us to part as friends, you and I.’
Isabel nodded. ‘I think we will probably never be friends, Lady Kendall. We are too different, but I would not like to think of us as enemies.’
Lady Kendall set her cup down and looked at Isabel with an unblinking gaze. ‘I hear that you are establishing a charity school in Manchester?’
Isabel nodded. ‘I am. It has been a long-held dream of mine.’
‘I would like very much to donate to your effort,’ Lady Kendall said.
Georgiana, Lady Kendall, may just as well have hit Isabel in the stomach. All the breath left her body and her mouth dropped open.
‘Donate? But why…?’
‘If a difference can be made to the lives of even just a few women, Lady Somerton, then I will think the money well spent. I will instruct my lawyer to set up an annual donation that should be enough to assist with the running expenses of the establishment. I want no acknowledgment, except a yearly report of your activities.’
‘That is extraordinarily generous of you…’ Isabel began but Lady Kendall waved away her gratitude with a gloved hand.
‘I have been fortunate in my life. This is just a small way I can repay the many blessings.’
Georgiana Kendall rose to her feet. ‘Thank you for the tea. I will now take your leave. I return to London in the morning. I wish you every well-deserved happiness.’ She bobbed a respectful curtsey. ‘Good day to you, Lady Somerton.’
With a twitch of her green skirt, Lady Georgiana Kendall left the room, leaving the lingering scent of her perfume. Isabel stood for a long moment, staring out of the window of the dower house. She turned and hurried to her room to fetch her hat and coat and, ignoring the cold, autumnal wind, she strode out of the dower house gate and up the hill to the mausoleum.
Holding her bonnet, she stood looking at her husband’s name on the memorial.
‘Anthony!’
The name rose in the wind and was carried away across the grass. She laid her hand on the cold marble inscribed with his name.
‘Anthony, I’m sorry that it had to be the way it was. Forgive me for not understanding.’
She sank down to her knees and touched the letters of her son’s name, overwhelmed with a peace and contentment that she had thought she would never feel again.
