Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
B y the end of the following week, Isobel was certain that she had uncovered Lucius’s hidden motive.
He intended to drive her insane.
His instructions arrived each morning in the form of a handwritten note – unsigned, naturally – which was pushed underneath her bedroom door. It was not that his directions were difficult to follow. Quite the opposite, in fact. Many of them were unspeakably dreary.
Tonight at dinner , for example, I will make a joke. You must pretend that you find it very amusing but are trying not to show it.
This morning, I will invite you and Cassandra out riding. Cassie will very likely agree, but you must decline.
Spend an hour reading after luncheon this afternoon. If Randall should ask about the book, mention that I recommended it to you.
Isobel had no idea of the purpose behind many of these rules. They kept her at a distance, certainly. They fostered the illusion of an intimate acquaintance without incurring the trouble of actually spending any time in each other’s company. All the better for Lucius to lock himself in the study, and nurture his plants, and brood over his secrets in peace.
By the third day she had developed a nagging suspicion that at least some of his commands were invented simply to test her. He’d made it clear what he thought of her, after all. Nothing has ever compelled you to please others over yourself.
And Isobel was as surprised as anyone to discover that Lucius was absolutely right. When the seventh of his morning notes arrived, she was so infuriated by the whole ridiculous process that she very nearly threw it on the fire without even reading it.
She regretted restraining herself the moment she saw the first line.
You will put away the dress you wore to Mrs Jackson’s card party yesterday. You will not wear it again for the duration of your time at Whitby Manor.
“The cheek of that man!” Isobel gritted her teeth to stop herself from saying something even worse. Her maid, busy putting away a freshly washed set of undergarments, glanced up in alarm. “Oh, go along and report back to Aunt Ursula,” said Isobel, sinking back onto her bed and scrunching the offending note in her fist. “I’m sure she will be delighted to hear that I have received a note from a gentleman.”
“My lady,” stammered the maid, “I would never –”
“There’s no need to deny it,” said Isobel. “I happen to know that she offers such generous bribes that any servant would be a fool to turn them down. You have my permission to negotiate an even higher price for betraying my confidence, if your conscience still gives you trouble.”
The maid’s cheeks turned scarlet. She bobbed a hasty curtsy and left the room in a rush. To nobody’s surprise at all, Aunt Ursula’s familiar rap-tap-tap sounded at the door a few minutes later.
“Come in,” said Isobel, with a sigh. “I suppose you want me to apologise to Peggy. I didn’t mean to upset her. I will give her the rest of the day off to recover from the shock of being caught spying, if you think that will help.”
Aunt Ursula merely raised an eyebrow and held out her hand. Isobel tried to shift the crumpled note underneath one of her pillows without being noticed. She failed.
“I give you the benefit of freedom over your own correspondence because I trust you not to get yourself into trouble,” said Ursula, hand still outstretched. Isobel tried her best to take it seriously, but she could not stop a small laugh from escaping. Ursula sighed. “Very well, very well! I trust you to get only into the right sort of trouble. And that, I do not need to tell you, is the kind which does not involve gentlemen.”
“Is Lord Randall no longer considered a gentleman in your eyes?” asked Isobel innocently. “I thought you encouraged me to come here with the express intention of getting myself into trouble with him.”
“Tush! I have apologised for that a thousand times!” Ursula perched on the edge of the bed, giving the note in Isobel’s hand a beady eye, but allowing her to keep it for now. “I really did think it was for the best. And, do you know, I think I was right! It may not have fallen out as I predicted, but all the same, you have triumphed. You have given that man the impression of complete indifference. Which, since he has still not proposed to you, is exactly what he deserves.” Ursula narrowed her eyes. “Unless it is he who is slipping notes under your bedroom door?”
“Oh, you mean this note?” Isobel glanced down at it in feigned surprise, smoothed out the paper, and handed it to Ursula. “I’m afraid I have no idea who wrote this to me. It does not bear my name, as you can see, nor that of the sender. But the handwriting has a gentlemanly air to it, I think, and only a gentleman would be so abominably rude.”
Ursula scanned the note, her wrinkled brow furrowing. “A gentleman – or a jealous lady,” she said. “You looked extremely well at Mrs Jackson’s card party. The blue bobbin net set your figure off beautifully. Perhaps one of the young girls here considers you a rival?”
“Oh, no,” said Isobel. She had not intended to cast suspicion on any of her friends. “Who on earth could that rival possibly be? Georgiana has so many admirers she does not know what to do with them. It is dreadful the way Lord Bell and his friends are continually buzzing around her – as though she were a pot of honey, and they were hungry wasps! She would likely be glad if I took an admirer or two off her hands. And Cassie gives barely a moment’s thought to her own clothes, let alone anybody else’s.”
Aunt Ursula nodded gravely. “That leaves poor Miss Whitby, doesn’t it? But I cannot imagine that Evelina is in any state to be jealous of another woman’s beauty. She has been so quiet and withdrawn, and all over that dreadful boy, Lord Henry! I wish she were one of my relations. I have several very good pieces of advice to offer her, but I fear it is not my place.”
Isobel shuffled forwards across the bed to lay her head on her aunt’s shoulder. “ You have never allowed a gentleman to destroy your peace of mind, Auntie. You are a fine example to every young woman, not only to your nieces.”
“Well, well,” said Ursula, shooing away the compliment. “Perhaps you are right that the letter is not from any of the Whitby ladies. They are all such good-hearted girls. But there were other women at Mrs Jackson’s last night, and one never knows how a jealous creature may connive to get her way and persuade a servant to slip a nasty letter in where it is not wanted. In fact – ha! Now that I think on it again, I am sure that the lady who sent you this note must have designs upon Mr Lucius Whitby.”
Isobel jerked upright as though somebody had given her a nasty jab in the spine. She began to stammer out a denial, but one look at her aunt’s toothy grin told her it was useless.
“I am not blind, Isobel. And nor am I ignorant of the way a gentleman’s mind works – even one as well-heeled and worldly as young Whitby. I know precisely what was going through his mind when he looked at you yesterday evening. The poor fellow was so distracted that he lost every hand he played. He’s in serious danger, my girl, mark my words.”
To Isobel’s surprise, she felt a deep pang of guilt. It was one thing to gloss over the truth a little, but she found she could not allow her aunt to believe that Lucius’s feelings for her were serious. “I am glad to hear you say so, Auntie,” she said, wondering how on earth she could explain it all. “But you must not think there is any real sentiment behind Mr Whitby’s attentions to me. The truth is… Well, you see… In actual fact, I asked him…”
“Ha! There it is!” Ursula slapped her knee in delight. “The truth comes out at last! Did you really think you could deceive me, my girl? I know perfectly well why you have been batting your eyes at Lucius Whitby. I only wish you had come to me for advice, for, as you know, I have a great deal of experience with intrigue. That said, although your methods were clumsy at first, they have produced the desired effect. Lord Randall is completely taken in. Last night, all the while Whitby was looking at you , Randall was glaring at Whitby.” Ursula put her arm about Isobel’s shoulders and gave her a jubilant squeeze. “And he had good reason to glare. The fact is that not even the finest actor ever to grace the stage could have feigned the expression on young Whitby’s face when you walked in wearing that gown. And that means that whoever wrote you this note saw it too – and that they have some interest in making sure his feelings for you do not develop any further.”
Isobel opened her mouth to tell Aunt Ursula that her suggestion could not possibly be true.
Aunt Ursula’s eyes met hers with a knowing twinkle. Isobel closed her mouth again and looked back down at the note.
Then, without giving herself any time to lose her nerve, she gave the bell pull a vigorous tug.
“Peggy,” she said, when the maid appeared, still looking frightened, “I am sorry that I was harsh with you just now. It is quite natural and right that you listen to Lady Ursula when it comes to my safety. I hope you can forgive me. For the moment, would you please bring out the dress that I wore yesterday evening? I know you have not had time to wash it, but I hardly think the card party was enough to cause it serious damage.”
Peggy’s eyes darted nervously from Isobel to Ursula. “My lady, it is still the morning. I fear that dress is not suitable –”
“Don’t worry about all that,” said Aunt Ursula. “I am the only one who need worry about what sort of attire is and is not suitable for my niece. We are quite aware that it is not a day dress. Nevertheless, please bring it upstairs. Lady Isobel knows what she is doing.”
As Peggy hurried to obey, Aunt Ursula gripped Isobel’s shoulder and used it to push herself upright. For such an elderly woman, her grip was exceedingly strong. “That is,” she added, for Isobel’s ears only, “I certainly hope you know what you are doing. The note is rude. But you are responding with a clear provocation. Remember that you are not invulnerable. It may not be wise to create an enemy.” She took hold of Isobel’s chin, forcing Isobel to look her in the eyes. “It would not do if anyone should go digging around and uncover information about Mr Babbage.”