Chapter 5
Chapter Five
As Isabel and Sebastian strolled the well-kept paths of Kensington Gardens, Isabel wondered why she chose to inflict this particular form of torture on herself.
Habit, she supposed. She had chosen to cut herself off from genteel society, and rumours as to the reason abounded.
She knew the gossip. The truth would go with her to the grave.
Beside her, Sebastian walked slowly, leaning heavily on the walking stick she had given him, and, behind them, her maid and Bennet kept a respectful distance.
Isabel had been out of society for so long that very few people she passed acknowledged her, although a few curious glances were thrown her way.
Those who did know her gave her nothing more than a peremptory greeting and expression of feigned sorrow over Anthony’s death and waited with an expectant look to be introduced to Sebastian. They went on their way, disappointed.
As they turned a corner, a man and a woman walked along the path towards them, arm in arm, the woman leaning in towards the man and giggling at some private joke. The man looked up and recognition sprang into his face as his gaze fell not on her but her companion.
‘Alder! By all the gods, fancy meeting you here.’
The man beside her stiffened.
‘Good God! Harry Dempster!’
The two men clasped hands, theirs a fraternity born of long acquaintance, Isabel guessed.
‘Alder! I hardly recognise you. How long has it been?’
‘Not since you left the regiment, Dempster.’ Sebastian turned to Isabel, ‘Lady Somerton, my old friend and comrade, Colonel Dempster.’
The woman with the colonel turned to Isabel and she recognised Elizabeth Langmead, wife of Sir John Langmead. Sir John must be absent on one of his diplomatic missions, she thought. A fool to leave his much younger wife alone, prey to every rake in London.
‘My, my, Lady Somerton. I thought you resided in the country these days?’ the woman said, dropping into a curtsey so slight it bordered on insolent.
‘Lady Somerton.’ Colonel Dempster bent over her hand. ‘I have seen you from afar, but we’ve never formally met.’
‘You’ve heard of me? Do we have a mutual acquaintance?’ Isabel enquired.
‘My sister, Georgiana—sorry, Lady Kendall—has a place close to the Somerton estates in Lincolnshire.’ He paused. ‘She told me the bad news about your husband. I knew him. My commiserations, ma’am.’
This man was Georgiana Kendall’s brother? Surely the fates could not be so perverse.
Isabel took a deep breath and forced a smile. ‘Thank you. What a small world, Colonel, but you are obviously not acquainted with Captain Alder’s news?’
Dempster turned an enquiring eye on his old friend.
‘Captain Alder is the new Lord Somerton,’ Isabel said.
Harry Dempster stared at her and then at Sebastian. ‘You dark horse. I didn’t know you were kin of the Somertons.’
‘I didn’t know myself until recently,’ Sebastian said. He glanced at Isabel. ‘Still not sure I completely believe it.’
Lady Langmead looked the new Lord Somerton up and down, no doubt taking in the shabby coat with its fraying cuffs and the unbarbered hair that skimmed the top of a badly knotted stock. It would be all through the fashionable salons by tomorrow, Isabel thought.
‘I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure, sir,’ Lady Langmead said, holding out her hand.
‘Lord Somerton,’ Isabel said, pointedly addressing Sebastian first, ‘may I introduce Lady Langmead?’
Sebastian bowed awkwardly.
Elizabeth Langmead’s lip curled slightly, but she did at least do him the courtesy of returning a curtsey.
Harry Dempster spread his arms in an expansive gesture.
‘But this is incredible news! Congratulations, Alder. You deserve good fortune, if anyone does. Lady Somerton, where did you find him?’
‘Among the wounded of Waterloo, Colonel,’ she replied.
Harry turned back to look at Sebastian, his face grave.
‘You were there? Was it as bad as they say?’
‘Worse,’ Sebastian replied, and a look passed between them, the deep understanding of two men who have fought together on the field of battle.
‘I’m glad to be out of it.’ As if only just recalling the presence of the two women, Harry straightened. ‘Alder and I served in Spain together.’
‘Another time best forgotten.’
The hard edge to Sebastian’s voice made Isabel turn to look at him. She knew so little about this man, beyond the neatly written report on his antecedents provided to her by Bragge. Served in the Army of the Peninsula 1807 – 1809, it had read.
‘Are you in London for long?’ Sebastian addressed Harry.
‘No, damn it. Father has summoned me home and I’m off in the morning, but I shall make it my business to escape to Lincolnshire as soon as I can. My sister is much better company than the old man. Are you going up to Brantstone soon?’
‘As soon as Lord Somerton is well enough to travel, Colonel,’ Isabel responded before Sebastian could reply. She shot the new Lord Somerton a sharp glance. ‘He is barely out of his sick bed.’
‘Well, perhaps I could call on you. Tonight—?’ Harry began but was cut short by his companion.
‘Tonight you are engaged to escort me to the Duchess of Rutland’s soiree, and we must be on our way,’ Lady Langmead said, her lips curling into a petulant pout.
‘I am indeed. Then it will have to be Lincolnshire as soon as I can escape the pater. I shall look forward to catching up with you there, Alder... Sorry, Somerton.’
‘And I.’
Sebastian leaned on the cane and watched the rapidly retreating back of his friend as he was all but dragged away by Lady Langmead. He closed his eyes, his mouth tightening.
‘You’re tired. We must get home,’ Isabel said.
He nodded and, as they turned back towards Somerton House, he paused and straightened, looking down at Isabel. His lips curved in a smile and he crooked his elbow.
‘Would you do me the honour of taking my arm, Lady Somerton?’
She hesitated, but her eyes met his and she found herself smiling in response, as she tucked her gloved hand into the curve of his elbow. Beneath the jacket, the muscles of his forearm tightened at her touch.
‘I must leave tomorrow to ensure all is in readiness for your arrival at Brantstone,’ she said.
‘So soon?’
‘Now you are on your feet, my lord, you don’t need me. Bragge will see to anything you require.’
He nodded, but without enthusiasm. ‘I’m sure he will. Thank you for your kindness, Lady Somerton.’
She glanced up at him and said with absolute honesty, ‘Pure self-interest, Lord Somerton. I am pleased to hand over the responsibility of Brantstone to its rightful master.’
Back in the house, she waited until Sebastian had retired to his bedchamber, with Bennet snapping at his heels. Removing her gloves and bonnet, she handed them to her maid, Lucy, and turned for the stairs. As she heard the door to the bedroom close, she allowed herself to smile.
Not long now. Once Sebastian Alder was safely installed at Brantstone, she would be free.
It was all she could do not to bound up the stairs two at a time, while a voice in her head whispered, ‘Free! Free!’