Page 6 of Rescuing a Tantalising Heiress
“The facts are as they stand, my lord. She knocked at the side door. I’d have sent her away, but her manner of speech was such as to make me believe her story—as fantastical as it sounds. She claims to be the daughter of the Duke of Burlington and that she was kidnapped, escaped, and found her way here,” Marston replied.
Edwarddidrecognize the woman’s face—she had an aristocratic look about her, and he was given to believe she was telling the truth, albeit a terrible one. He had heard of such kidnappings before—the daughters of wealthy aristocrats snatched, and a ransom demanded for their return.
It made him shudder to think of the ordeal the poor creature had suffered. Her clothes were torn, her face was marked and bruised, and her hair was dishevelled.
“Extraordinary, and yet…” Edward began, as a worrying thought occurred to him.
“Can you hear me, my lady?” Hetty said, apparently overcoming her fear of apparent death, as she stooped down and tapped Isabella on the cheek.
“Did you see anyone else? Was she followed? Do they know she’s here?” Edward asked as the fear of reprisal at the hands of the kidnappers now occurred to him.
Howdwell Heights—the ancestral home of the Talbot family—was a lonely dwelling built on the edge of a large moorland, surrounded by forest and wild country. Their nearest neighbours were the Porthesays at Gillingham Grange, and it was an hour’s carriage drive to the nearest village.
Edward kept only a small staff—Marston, Hetty, Mrs Jacobs, the cook, Millicent, his sister’s maid, a footman, two gardeners, and the stable hands. Should the kidnappers know of Isabella’s whereabouts, there would be little to stop them from taking her by force.
“I didn’t see anyone, my lord,” Hetty replied.
“Very well, but pull the curtains across the window, and keep the doors locked. Should the kidnappers return, I don’t want them to know she’s here. Keep trying to revive her, and…” Edward said, just as he was interrupted by hurried footsteps in the hallway.
The drawing room door burst open, and Edward’s sister, Augusta, stood staring at the scene before her.
“Oh, Edward, Millicent told me we’ve got a visitor. The poor creature, whatever happened to her? Kidnapped? How dreadful!” Augusta exclaimed, hurrying forward to kneel at Isabella’s side.
Edward’s sister was a delicate creature. Widowed at an early age, she had been married to the much older Marquess of Hamilton. Theirs had been a loveless marriage and had produced no children in the short time they were married.
Following the marquess’ death, Augusta had come to live with Edward and passed her days in works of charity and taking a keen interest in the gardens at Howdwell Heights, where she had planted roses in abundance.
“My dear Augusta, please don’t upset yourself. I’m sure she’ll be quite all right,” Edward said as Augusta patted Isabella’s hand.
“I’ve told Millicent to bring the smelling salts,” Augusta said, looking up at Edward with an anxious expression on her face.
Edward sighed. He had hoped to spend the morning working. He had considerable responsibilities and worked hard for those on his estate whose livelihoods depended on him. As a member of the House of Lords, Edward took his duties seriously, and he wanted to use his wealth for good—rather than his own personal gain.
His father had died five years previous, and Edward had inherited an estate in disarray, losing money, and drastically in need of reform. This he had set to with zeal, and there had been many who had been surprised at the young aristocrat’s newfound diligence and dutiful example.
In his youth, Edward had been somewhat wayward, lacking direction, and often called rakish for his behaviour. But those days were behind him, and Edward was keen to prove himself worthy of the position entrusted to him.
“I’m sure she’ll be all right,” Edward said, glancing down at Isabella, whose eyes remained closed.
She was a pretty creature—despite her dishevelled appearance, and Edward could not help but find her attractive. She had dark blonde hair and was tall for a woman. Her cheeks were pale, her lips red, and her figure slender.
The poor creature. She must’ve been terrified. What a barbaric act—subjecting her to such a thing, and for what? Money, I suppose? But what are we to do with her? I’ll send one of the stable hands to Burlington Grange,Edward thought to himself.
The drawing room door now opened again, and Millicent, Augusta’s maid, now appeared with the smelling salts in hand. Augusta snatched them from her, pulling the stopper from the bottle and holding it beneath Isabella’s nose. Edward’s eyes began to water as the aroma filled the room.
“Goodness me, Augusta, be careful—you’ll send us all into a faint with those,” Edward exclaimed.
The smelling salts had only a minimal effect. Isabella let out a groan, though her eyes were still closed, and despite Hetty tapping her cheek, it was to no avail—she remained unconscious. Augusta shook her head, looking tearfully up at Edward, who was watching in despair.
“We’ll have to send for the doctor,” she said, but Edward shook his head.
“No, we can’t send for the doctor—not until we know it’s safe to do so. What if the kidnappers are searching the countryside for her? If they see the doctor, they’ll know she’s here. We can look after her, can’t we? At least for now,” he said.
Augusta nodded. It would give her something to do, and with Hetty’s help, Edward and Marston lifted Isabella to her feet.
“We’ll put her in the bedroom connecting to mine. I can nurse her then,” Augusta said.
This task was duly accomplished, and Isabella was put into bed, propped up on the pillows, and covered with a blanket. She looked a pitiful figure, and Augusta instructed Millicent to bring warm water and a cloth to bathe Isabella’s face.
