Page 55 of Lady Controversial
Jane settled with her embroidery that afternoon and Isolda, in a rare moment of inactivity, enjoyed the luxury of losing herself in one of the books she selected from the well-stocked shelves. Or trying to. She hadn’t slept well, the story did not hold her attention and the heat from the fire caused her eyelids to droop.
She was jerked awake by Brutus, who was barking and running in tight circles chasing his tail. Someone must be nearby, she thought, her heart palpitated as she worried about Brooke having found them. But as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, regained her senses and recalled where they were, her jangling nerves settled.
‘It’s Mr Felix and a lady,’ Jane said, pressing her nose against the window glass.
A few moments later that gentleman was announced by Mrs Compton and bounded into the room with athletic grace that put Isolda in mind of his brother. He greeted Isolda with warmth but spent a great deal longer squeezing Jane’s fingers before introducing the lady in whose company he had arrived, who turned out to be his sister, Lady Jemima.
‘It is so lovely to meet you,’ Lady Jemima said, beaming at Isolda. ‘My brother tells me that you have had a terrible time of it. I am so very sorry about that but I am absolutely sure that things will improve, at least if Ellery has anything to do with it.’
‘He has been very gracious,’ Isolda replied, a little taken aback by the lady’s sunny disposition and lack of artifice. Perhaps she ought not to allow herself to be influenced by preconceptions. After all, Ellery and his brother showed none of the pretentiousness that adhered itself to any mention of the duchess’s name, and it appeared that Lady Jemima was in their image. ‘Some tea for our guests, if you please, Mrs Compton.’
‘Tea would be lovely,’ Lady Jemima said, removing her gloves and seating herself beside Isolda. ‘You are so very pretty,’ she added, nodding at Jane. ‘The rest of us will be in your shadow when we make our curtsey together.’
‘You are very kind,’ Jane replied, blushing furiously and simultaneously smiling up at Felix from beneath her demurely lowered lashes.
‘I should of course hate you for it, but hate is such a corrosive emotion I have always thought, so I tend to see the best in everyone.’
At Felix’s request, Jane played the piano while he remained at her side turning the pages for her, leaving Isolda and Lady Jemima at leisure to converse. In fact Lady Jemima chatted about anything and everything, always smiling, never critical, and Isolda made the occasional contribution.
The visit lasted half an hour and Jane looked deliriously happy as she stood beside Isolda and waved their guests on their way.
‘I am sorry the earl did not come himself,’ she said, ‘but I am remarkably pleased with Felix. He could not be more attentive.’
‘I am glad you like him.’ Isolda pinched her sister’s cheek in a rare moment of affection. ‘But now, time is getting on. I would suggest resting for an hour if you want to look your very best this evening.’
‘Thank you, Isolda. I shall.’
Marcus allowed himself a satisfied smile when Barker was dragged, battered and bloody and swearing like a trooper, into the well-concealed cottage he’d taken possession of in order to keep a low profile. One of Barker’s eyes was swollen closed, his clothing was splattered with blood and he was limping badly.
‘What the hell,’ he spluttered, spitting blood through a gap where a tooth had until recently resided.
‘You should not have reneged on our agreement,’ Brooke said, attempting to project an air of superior indifference despite his shabby surroundings. He lifted a glass to his lips and drank deeply of the indifferent brandy it contained. ‘Then this would not have been necessary.’
‘I didn’t go back on me word.’ Barker, a huge man, appeared to have trouble remaining upright. He had obviously taken a serious beating and Brooke’s two men were obliged to hold him up. Marcus admired the manner in which he still looked tough and showed no fear. ‘I can’t give you the lass ’cause she’s scarpered, and that’s the God’s honest truth.’
‘Then tell me her name,’ Marcus said, stretching his legs out in front of the meagre fire and yawning.
An evil smile graced Barker’s bloodied face. ‘You are already intimately acquainted with the hussy.’
Marcus opened his mouth to protest but closed it again without any sound emerging. He had been overtaken by a feeling of familiarity ever since he’d watched the teasing little jade dancing around her much bigger opponent. The sight had been arousing, but he’d ignored his reaction. He was no sodomite. He felt gratified to know that his instincts had not failed him.
‘Her name!’ he shouted.
Barker paused for so long that Marcus thought he would not respond. He nodded to one of his men, but before he could offer a little violent persuasion Barker found the strength to shake off his hold and glowered at Marcus.
‘Miss Isolda Crawley,’ he said, the glower transmuting into a malicious smirk when Marcus couldn’t prevent his jaw from dropping open.
Marcus leapt from his chair. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he yelled, quickly recovering the power of speech.
But even as he attempted to deny it, the truth behind Barker’s words embedded itself in his brain. It would explain why she had seemed so familiar when he first saw her in the arena. He had admired those slim hips and that pert derriere often, since she was fond of wearing lad’s clothing. She had been proficient with a sword from an early age too. Crawley had encouraged her to excel, laughing because she was so much better at it than the lads of her own age, and took pride in her achievements.
That had been years ago; she’d been no more than ten or eleven. Marcus hadn’t known that her obsession with swords had followed her into maturity. It explained a great deal, though. Lady Bellingham had insisted that the girls didn’t have sufficient funds to continue with their bid for independence indefinitely and yet always they managed to survive. Marcus now knew how Isolda had kept their heads above water, and reluctantly admired her determination.
‘Where is she now?’ he asked. ‘Who took her?’
‘No idea.’ Barker held up a hand. ‘Your goons can beat me black and blue. It will take two of them, even now with me in this state, just like it did earlier, the snivelling cowards, but it won’t make no difference. I can’t tell you what I don’t know and that’s a fact.’
‘Did you tell her about my moving into the district?’
