Page 10 of Rescuing a Tantalising Heiress
Once again, Edward imagined how he would feel if it had been Augusta who had been snatched. He shuddered to think of it, knowing he would go to any lengths to keep his sister safe and despising the man—or men—who were capable of such a wicked act.
“She can remain here for as long as she wishes. Perhaps it would be safer for her to do so. If they’re watching Burlington Grange, there’s no doubt they’ll attempt the same again, don’t you think?” he asked, and his sister nodded.
“I’d be certain of it. She wants to thank you herself,” Augusta said, and Edward looked at his sister in surprise.
He had done nothing worthy of thanks, or so he believed. Any man with any decency would surely have done the same. They had barely exchanged two words before she had fainted, and when Edward had left, Isabella had still not opened her eyes.
“Does she? But it’s you that’s helped her,” he replied.
“And she’s thanked me, too—profusely. But it was your arms she fainted in,” Augusta said, the hint of a smile playing over her face.
Edward felt suddenly embarrassed. The entire situation was quite remarkable, and he was only glad his sister had been present, lest he be accused of impropriety.
“Yes, and it’s not something I’ll easily forget. Very well, if she’s feeling strong enough, bring her down. I won’t enter the bedroom, you understand. I’ll wait in the library,” Edward said, for he had no intention of giving the servants anything more to gossip about.
His sister nodded.
“I’ll go and see. I’m sure she’ll be all right, though I’ll have to lend her one of my dresses,” she replied.
Edward nodded, watching as his sister left the room. He smiled to himself, astonished at the thought of his well-ordered routine being so spectacularly interrupted by this remarkable set of events. It was quite extraordinary, even as he feared there was more still to come.
And what comes next, I wonder? The gratitude or the wrath of the Duke of Burlington?he asked himself, even as he felt pleased with the thought of Isabella’s desire to thank him and intrigued to know more about her.
Chapter 5
The bedroom door opened quietly. Isabella opened her eyes, fearful, at first, as to who should be entering. She had dozed a little, but had found it hard to fall asleep, her mind filled with thoughts of what had happened. She was exhausted, and yet wide awake, too, mulling over all that had happened to her since she had taken Caesar for his walk.
“It’s all right, Isabella. It’s just me, Augusta. How are you feeling?” the viscount’s sister asked as she approached the bed.
Isabella sat up and gave a weak smile.
“I feel…a little better. I’m just very tired, that’s all,” she replied, and Augusta took her hand in hers and squeezed it.
“I’m not surprised. You’ve had a terrible ordeal. Do you feel up to speaking with Edward? He’s waiting for you downstairs,” she said, and Isabella nodded.
“I’d like that, yes,” she replied, and Augusta helped her get up.
She felt stiff, her body aching, and she could only imagine the state of her appearance. She did not have to imagine for long, catching sight of herself in a mirror and recoiling in horror at the sight before her. Her hair was dishevelled, her face was bruised, and the clothes she was wearing were torn.
“Would you like to wear something of mine? One of my dresses, perhaps? We have about the same figure, I think, though you’re taller than me,” Augusta said.
Isabella felt anxious at the thought of meeting the viscount dressed in such a manner, and she nodded, grateful to Augusta for her offer.
“If you don’t mind. That’s very kind of you,” she said, and Augusta smiled.
“Millicent, will you bring in the dress, please,” she called out, and her maid entered the room, carrying a pretty peach gown and a shawl over her arm.
“Here we are, my lady. Lady Isabella can wear this. I can always pin it if necessary, and I’ve some stockings, too,” she said.
It was not long before Isabella had changed behind an ornately painted oriental-style screen in the corner, emerging in the pretty dress with the shawl around her shoulders. Nothing could be done about the bruising, though Augusta assured Isabella she had done her best with a cloth and warm water.
“And Millicent can comb your hair, too,” Augusta said.
Isabella soon looked presentable, and she was grateful to Augusta, and her maid, for their kindness.
“I really do want to thank your brother for his kindness. He could so easily have turned me away,” Isabella said as she now followed the viscount’s sister down the stairs.
“He’d never have done that. He’s a good and honourable man. I owe him a great deal. I’m a widow, you see, and Edward took me in after the death of my husband. I’m sure he finds me a complete and utter pain, but he never says so, if he does,” Augusta said, laughing, as she turned and smiled at Isabella, who shook her head.
