Page 9 of Rescuing a Tantalising Heiress
“No, thank you. You’ve all been so kind. I feel terrible for imposing on your hospitality like this,” Isabella replied, but Augusta shook her head.
“You’re not imposing, not at all. You’ve suffered terribly. I’m only thankful you’ve woken up,” Augusta replied.
Isabella smiled, taking the spoon from the tray and beginning to eat. She was ravenously hungry, for she had not eaten since dinner the night before. The soup was creamy and delicious, and Isabella ate hungrily as Augusta sat next to her by the side of the bed.
“What delicious soup,” Isabella said, and Augusta smiled.
“You can have more—you only need to ask,” she said as Isabella finished the bowl and wiped up the last remnants with the remaining piece of bread.
Millicent had brought tea, and the other maid, Hetty, who was still eyeing Isabella with some suspicion, was sent down to the kitchen to bring another bowl of soup and some more bread.
“You’re all so very kind,” Isabella said.
“You’ll have to forgive Hetty—she can be a funny creature at times. As loyal as they come, but once she’s passed judgement, it can be difficult to make her change her mind,” Augusta said.
Isabella thought back to her first encounter with the maid outside the house that morning. A clock on the mantelpiece had just struck noon, and whilst it was no more than twelve hours since her ordeal had begun, it seemed as though a lifetime had passed since Isabella had stepped out of the house with Caesar on his lead.
“I think I’d be the first to find my story implausible. But it’s all true, I assure you—all of it, and I feel…fearful as to what’s going to happen next,” Isabella replied.
She felt safe in the comfort of her opulent surroundings, but as to what was to become of her, Isabella feared the kidnappers would stop at nothing to secure the prize they had boasted of. She had heard them speak about their reward, and she had no doubt their employer would be furious when they returned empty-handed. Augusta patted Isabella’s hand.
“Try not to worry, Isabella. You’re safe now. No one knows you’re here—apart from us. Edward’s gone out to make enquiries across the estate. You can stay here as long as you like,” Augusta said.
Isabella smiled. Augusta had been very kind—unfailingly so—and now she wondered what the viscount himself made of the remarkable circumstances of her arrival. She had fearedhewas one of the kidnappers, but nothing could be further from the truth. Howdwell Heights had proved a refuge, and her father would be certain to arrive in force to bring her home to Burlington Grange.
“I just don’t know who could hate my father so much as to want to do such a wicked thing. And why me? What did they want with me?” Isabella said.
It was that she found most disturbing. Had she known of a sworn enemy of her father, the matter would have been an easier one to understand. But a hidden adversary presented a much more subtle and terrifying threat. Who was the man—or men—who had ordered her kidnapping, and to what lengths would they go to ensure their plans came to fruition?
“It’s a terrible thing, Isabella. But you mustn’t blame yourself for it, or think you’ve done anything wrong. I’m sure your father will go to great lengths to protect you. Now, try to get some rest,” Augusta said, rising to her feet.
The maid, Hetty, had just returned with another bowl of soup and more bread, and she placed the tray on Isabella’s lap, watching as she took up her spoon, still hungry after her ordeal.
“Shall I sit with her, my lady?” she asked, but Augusta shook her head.
“No, let Lady Isabella rest. I’ll come back when my brother returns,” she said, and smiling at Isabella, she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Isabella finished the soup, setting the tray aside and lying back on the pillows with a sigh. She closed her eyes, thinking back over the events of the previous night. She shuddered, hearing the voices of her kidnappers, and feeling the pain in her wrists where they had bound her with the cords.
What’s going to happen next?she wondered, hoping it would not be too long before her father arrived to bring her home, even as she hoped for a chance to thank the viscount in person for his kindness to her.
***
“I couldn’t see anything. I rode as far as the south gate and out along the road, running past the trees. I saw a lot of tracks—the path was all churned up. It looked like someone had backed a carriage up there, and with some difficulty, too,” Edward said, tossing aside his overcoat and slumping down into a chair in the drawing room.
His sister looked at him fearfully.
“But you don’t suppose they’re lurking somewhere, do you? She’s terribly frightened,” she replied.
“At least she’s awake. Thank heavens for that. I’ve sent word to her father. He’ll be here by the end of the day, or at first light tomorrow, I’m sure,” Edward replied.
He had searched in vain for any signs of the kidnappers, though the marks of the wheel ruts suggested someone had retrieved the carriage in which Isabella had travelled. If they had known at one point she had come to a halt, it would not be difficult to guess where she might have ended up. Edward intended to remain vigilant, and he had instructed Marston to keep the doors locked and admit no one to the house without his express permission.
“I feel so sorry for her. She’s been through a terrible ordeal, hasn’t she? Can you imagine it?” Augusta said, shaking her head.
“What did she say? Does she know who’s responsible?” Edward asked, for there was still a considerable mystery surrounding the whole matter—who were the kidnappers, and what did they want from the Duke of Burlington?
“She doesn’t know. They didn’t tell her. It’s all so terrible,” Augusta replied.
