Page 11 of Rescuing a Tantalising Heiress
She did not think anyone could find Augusta a pain—she was a delight and had been unfailingly kind to Isabella since her unexpected arrival. Having fainted almost immediately upon entering Howdwell Heights, Isabella was curious to see more of her surroundings.
The landing had led to a wide staircase leading to the hallway below. Pictures and portraits lined the walls, and a coat of arms, surrounded by a display of ancient weaponry created a centrepiece. The hallway floor was marble and highly polished, and doors led off left, right, and centre, with an enormous table standing in the middle.
“What a beautiful house this is. Did you grow up here?” Isabella asked.
She was still surprised at having never encountered Augusta before. They were of a similar rank and class and were surely connected by any number of mutual acquaintances.
“I did, along with Edward, of course. Our father was strict, though entirely devoid of discipline when it came to running the estate. But our mother was a delight—there she is, up there,” Augusta said, pointing to the portrait of a woman in a flowing white gown, standing in the precincts of an ancient mythological scene.
She was the very image of Augusta, and strikingly beautiful.
“I lost my mother when I was very young. It seems we have a tragic affinity,” Isabella said, and Augusta sighed.
“Yes, we do. My mother would never have allowed me to marry a man twice my age and then some. But my father insisted on it, and the inevitable occurred. But never mind, these things are in the past. We must look to future happiness. Come and see Edward. He is waiting for you,” Augusta said.
She led Isabella through the door to the left, and Isabella found herself in a book-lined room, which she presumed to be the library. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the shelves, where hundreds of volumes stood waiting to be read. The viscount was standing by the window, and he turned to greet her, as Isabella gazed in awe around her.
“What a wonderful room,” she exclaimed, forgetting herself for a moment.
“Do you read?” the viscount asked.
Isabella blushed, returned to her senses by the viscount’s words.
“Oh, forgive me, yes, I do, but…thank you,” she said as Augusta motioned for her to sit.
The viscount smiled, sitting down opposite them by the hearth. The butler brought in a tray of tea, followed by the maid, Hetty, who carried another tray laden with dainty treats and morsels. She set it down, still eyeing Isabella suspiciously.
“Hetty, you’ll be pleased to know I found nothing untoward in my search for the kidnappers. You can stop treating Lady Isabella as though she’s a common bandit, let into the house to rob us,” Edward said, and the maid blushed.
“I…yes, my lord,” she said, setting the tray down on the table between Isabella and Edward.
The butler raised his eyebrows, and Hetty scurried from the room, as the viscount smiled.
“Don’t worry about Hetty—but let me reassure you, I found nothing untoward as I rode across the estate. The carriage you spoke of—I saw the wheel ruts in the road by the woodland. It looks like the kidnappers retrieved it.
They might guess you’re here, but we’ve taken every precaution against it. I doubt they’d be bold enough to mount an all-out assault on a private dwelling. They cannot know how many servants we have or if there are dogs here,” the viscount said.
The thought made Isabella shudder. Augusta had assured her she was safe, but the kidnappers would surely reason she was here, or somewhere close by. It would only take a loose-tongued servant to reveal the truth, and whilst Edward had assured her she could trust Hetty, Isabella was not so sure.
“I really can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience I’ve caused you. I’m sure my father…” she began, but the viscount only smiled and shook his head.
“It’s really no inconvenience, I assure you. You’ve suffered a terrible ordeal, and it’s only right you should be protected,” he said.
There was reassurance in his voice, and Isabella smiled, grateful to him, and his sister, for their kindness.
“It really is very kind of you. I was terrified. I didn’t know what would become of me or where I was being taken to,” Isabella said, thinking back to the events of the previous night.
“They gave no clue as to their identity? How many of them were there?” he asked.
“Four, I think—or were there five? I can’t remember exactly. It was dark, and, oh…” she said as she suddenly burst into tears.
Isabella had remained stoic, if fearful, since arriving at Howdwell Heights, but the horror of what had occurred now overwhelmed her, and she broke down in tears at the thought of what might have happened had she remained in the hands of the kidnappers.
Augusta put her arm around her, and the viscount took out a neatly folded handkerchief, rising to his feet and crossing to where Isabella sat. He crouched in front of her, gazing at her with a reassuring look on his face.
“It’s all right, don’t worry. It’s over now, and you’re safe. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re amongst friends now,” he said, handing her his handkerchief.
Isabella dabbed at her eyes and gave a weak smile. She felt foolish—firstly for allowing the whole sorry business to occur, and secondly for appearing too weak.
