by Darcy Burke
“Jealous?” The dowager’s lip curled. “A pitiful emotion. One cannot be jealous of a child’s relationship with her governess. If they are fond of her, so much the better.” She eyed Isabelle for a moment as if she were searching for some defect. “Are you certain her jealousy wasn’t due to another source?”
Lady Viola, who was seated closer to the dowager, leaned toward her. “Grandmama, you can’t be insinuating Mrs. Cortland behaved inappropriately with Lord Barkley!”
Isabelle kept her jaw from dropping. But the dowager was correct—in a way. “She was jealous of me,” Isabelle said quietly. “I think it’s possible, anyway. Lord Barkley made it clear it was not his decision to replace me, and that he’d fought for me to stay.”
“For less than magnanimous reasons, I’m sure.” The dowager’s hazel eyes flickered with malice, and Isabelle renewed her vow to never find herself on the woman’s bad side. “I wondered if that were the case.”
“How did you know?”
“I’m exceptionally clever, my dear. One, you are an attractive, intelligent woman, and, if memory serves, Lady Barkley is neither of those things. Second, you did not remain in their employ and now find yourself in a difficult position requiring help from quarters you would probably not normally accept.”
How had the dowager determined all that, particularly the latter? “I am grateful for your assistance,” Isabelle said. She was, even if she hadn’t sought it.
“I’m certain you are, just as I am certain it wounds your pride to have to accept this arrangement. I sized you up within an hour of meeting you, my dear. You may stay as long as necessary, and if you would like assistance with securing a new position, you need only ask.” She rose, and Lady Viola leapt up to help her.
“Do you need help getting upstairs?” Lady Viola asked.
“Not tonight, dear. My aches are much improved today, as they always are when the rain stops.”
Lady Viola kissed the dowager’s pale cheek. “Good night, Grandmama.”
“Good night,” Isabelle said, standing. “And thank you.”
The dowager left, and Lady Viola turned back to face Isabelle. “I meant what I said—it’s just lovely that you’re here. I hope it takes you all Season to secure a new position.” She winced. “My apologies. That’s rather selfish of me. Unless you’d like to spend the Season with me.”
Isabelle had never dreamed of having a Season, and the idea of mingling with Society’s “best” didn’t appeal to her in the slightest. However, spending time with Lady Viola had a certain appeal, and it had nothing to do with her being Val’s sister. Lady Viola possessed a warm and magnetic nature. She was, perhaps, the first woman Isabelle could conceive of calling friend.
“I should like for you to give me a proper tour of the house tomorrow so that I may appreciate everything. Your grandmother’s collection of art is magnificent.”
“I should love to! But for now, I should show you to your room. Blenheim said your things were already taken there and unpacked.”
It was as if she were an honored guest. She’d never been that before. “It’s very kind of your grandmother to allow me to stay. Val—” Damn! His name escaped her mouth before she could stop it. She could only hope Lady Viola hadn’t caught it, however, given the slight widening of her eyes, Isabelle was all but certain she had. “His Grace was adamant she would welcome me, but I didn’t wish to intrude.”
“You couldn’t possibly. Grandmama likes you—she said as much. Honestly, she gave you high praise.”
Isabelle thought back to what the dowager had said and couldn’t determine what that might have been. “Hopefully it won’t be for very long. I’ve sent several inquiries already.”
“Well, I shall hope for the opposite. I’ve a mind that we should be friends, and if you leave too soon, I won’t be able to find out why you called my brother Val.” Her eyes twinkled with merriment.
Isabelle’s insides curled. Just what had she gotten herself into?
Chapter 10
Isabelle’s chamber at the dowager’s house boasted a variety of paintings as awe inducing as the ones she’d seen the night before. It was as if she were staying at Somerset House. Not that she’d ever been to Somerset House, but she could imagine the same kinds of paintings were on display there, simply in greater quantity.
She’d slept well in a bed dressed with silken sheets and adorned with velvet hangings. Indeed, she felt rather decadent.
The dowager apparently broke her fast in her chamber, but Isabelle was delighted to join Lady Viola in the morning room, which had a wall of tall windows and glass doors that looked out to the enclosed garden. Shortly after they were seated, Lady Viola insisted Isabelle call her simply Viola. She’d said they were now friends, after all.
“What shall we do today?” Viola asked once she’d finished her toast and eggs. “I recall you saying on our shopping trip that this was your first time in London. You must have a list of things you’d like to see and do.”
“Not a formal list, no. I’d like to see the British Museum. And Somerset House. And maybe Hatchards.”
“Did I hear someone say Hatchards?” Val stepped into the morning room and extended his leg before joining them at the table. He looked to Isabelle. “As it happens, I came to take you to Hatchards.”
“And me, I hope,” Viola said. “Mrs. Cortland is my chaperone, if you recall.”
Val rolled his eyes. “Yes, you may come too.”
“How generous of you to offer,” she said sweetly. “Next time you make plans for my chaperone, you should make sure we don’t have other engagements.”
Isabelle suppressed a smile at their mock bickering. At least it didn’t seem genuine. It was lively and amusing and rather endearing.
“Do you have other plans?” he asked, looking between his sister and Isabelle.
“No,” Isabelle answered.
“The point was we might’ve,” Viola said, standing. “And you’re in luck because Hatchards was on our list. Shall we go?”
Val inclined his head. “Indeed. First, however, I thought Mrs. Cortland might like to visit Dangerfield’s across the square.”
Viola studied him intently, then transferred her gaze to Isabelle. The curiosity in her stare made Isabelle shift uncomfortably. She got to her feet. “You remembered that I said I liked to visit circulating libraries,” she said, hoping that might provide sufficient explanation to Viola as to why Val might know that about her.
“I did.”
“We’ll just fetch our things,” Viola said, her gaze still lingering on her brother and Isabelle.
She left the morning room first, and as Isabelle followed, she considered how to caution Val. If they weren’t careful, Viola—or worse, his grandmother—would deduce the depth of their acquaintance.
A short while later, they walked into the circulating library. Viola went straight to the section of new acquisitions, while Isabelle meandered in the opposite direction. As she perused a book of poetry, Val approached her with another gentleman.
“Mr. Dangerfield, allow me to present Mrs. Cortland. Mrs. Cortland, this is Mr. Dangerfield, the proprietor of this circulating library.”
Isabelle dipped a curtsey. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Dangerfield. You have a wonderful collection.”
“Thank you. I understand your father was warden at Merton College. I attended Wadham, though I heard your father speak on occasion.” The man’s dark gaze softened. “I was sorry to hear he’d passed.”
She inclined her head. “I appreciate your kindness.”
Val clasped his hands behind his back. “Mr. Dangerfield is in need of assistance with his library, and I’ve recommended you for the position.”
Isabelle blinked at him, completely surprised at this revelation. She looked at Mr. Dangerfield. “You’d like me to work here?”
“I have been looking for someone to help me decide what to acquire for the library as well as work here a few days each week. If you would be interested
, I’d be delighted to have you.”
Interested? It was perfect. And Val had made it happen. She glanced toward him as warm gratitude spread through her chest. “I would be honored, thank you.”
Mr. Dangerfield grinned broadly. “Excellent.”
They made arrangements for her to return on Monday morning, and Mr. Dangerfield left them. Isabelle turned to Val. “How did you know he was looking for someone?”
“I can see how important your independence is, and how much you hate the corner you’ve been backed into. I thought you might enjoy working in a bookshop or a library. I took a chance and stopped in here this morning and was fortunate that Mr. Dangerfield was, in fact, in search of help.”
“It’s almost too good to be true,” she said softly.
“I have thought that many times about you.”
His words made her heart flutter, but she refused to bask in that sensation. “You must be careful. I think your sister suspects something.” Isabelle glanced toward Viola, who was thumbing through a book on the other side of the library.
His gaze followed hers. “Why would you think that?”
Isabelle winced. “I may have inadvertently referred to you by your Christian name.”
His attention shifted back to her, his eyes widening briefly. “And she caught it?”
“Most definitely. Then you arrived this morning and suggested I might like to visit a circulating library, possibly giving the impression we are more than recent acquaintances. It’s questionable enough that you’ve taken it upon yourself to help me to the point of lodging me with your grandmother.”
He exhaled. “I see your point. I will do my best to leave you alone.”
Isabelle saw Viola replace her book on the shelf and turn toward them. “She’s coming,” Isabelle whispered. She affixed a smile to her lips. “The most extraordinary thing has just happened. Mr. Dangerfield offered me a position working here.”
Viola blinked in surprise. “That is extraordinary. Would you have wanted to do that?”
“In fact, I am going to do that. It’s an excellent solution, at least for the short term.” The pay wouldn’t be enough to sustain her, but it would ensure she had her own funds without stealing from her savings. She needed that to start her school.
“I’m not sure Grandmama will approve,” Viola said gently.
“I’ll handle Grandmama,” Val said, and Isabelle shot him a warning glance. He couldn’t keep intervening on her behalf. It was beyond suspicious, and Viola was far too clever not to notice. She’d already noticed.
“If she’d rather I didn’t stay, I will understand,” Isabelle interjected. “Your Grace, you needn’t speak with her. If you please.” She hoped he understood what she was trying to convey.
“Of course you’ll stay,” Viola declared. “I will handle Grandmama. You are my chaperone, after all, and I’ve decided I need you.”
They departed Dangerfield’s and went to Hatchards, where Isabelle immersed herself in the splendor of books and the environment of people who loved books. She could happily have lived there.
Val stayed away from her, as he said he would. It was best for everyone if they ignored the past—both the distant and recent—and focused on a future in which their lives did not intersect. After she left his grandmother’s. For now, they were at least in each other’s orbit. Hopefully he would not come round and take her to libraries or bookshops anymore.
And how that depressed her. That he’d thought to inquire after a position for her was incredibly touching. It seemed he did understand her. Perhaps as no one ever had.
Her husband certainly hadn’t bothered. He’d spent all his time gambling, except for when he rode his horse or walked with his dogs—anything to spend time away from her. When she hadn’t swelled with child in three years of marriage, he’d stopped coming to her bed, not that she’d minded. He’d been a cursory bedmate, which was better than what he might have been, but so much worse than what she’d hoped. Val had set her up for certain disappointment. She’d known she would always compare her husband to him, but when the former had turned out to be so lacking, it was impossible not to agonize over what she was missing.
And what Val’s wife had possessed.
The dowager’s words came back to her—jealousy was a pitiful emotion. She was right, and Isabelle had worked very hard not to dwell in it.
When they returned to Berkeley Square, Val accompanied them inside. Deciding it was best if she spent as little time with him as possible, even in the company of others, Isabelle escaped to her room. There, she wrote more letters to schools that might be hiring, as far away as York. Distance would ease the ache of loss.
It would also put an end to temptation.
Val accompanied his sister and Isabelle into the house. Even though Viola had said she would deal with their grandmother regarding Isabelle’s new job, and he should probably keep his nose out of Isabelle’s affairs, he wanted to ensure Viola was able to manage the situation.
After this, he would step away. He’d done all he could. He’d made sure Isabelle was safely lodged and had a job, which was most important to her. There was nothing more he could do. Rather, there was nothing more she would allow.
Grandmama greeted them in the library, which was just off the entrance hall. “Eastleigh, don’t you have better things to do than squire Viola and her chaperone about?”
“It was my pleasure to do so,” he said smoothly.
Viola took a chair near the dowager. “He helped Mrs. Cortland secure a position at Dangerfield’s.” She looked up at him, almost daring him to dispute her.
She knew he had orchestrated it? Hell, she must have overheard their conversation with Dangerfield? She must have. Val had thought they were far enough away across the shop. He worked very hard not to scowl at his sister.
Grandmama stared at him expectantly. “Is that so?”
“She is looking for employment, and I was merely trying to help her.”
“Are you aware of why she left Barkley’s employ prematurely?” Grandmama asked.
Of course he knew. She’d found a job—at his tavern. But he wasn’t going to tell his grandmother that. “It wasn’t really premature,” Val said. “Barkley dismissed her.”
“Don’t you find her dismissal strange?” Grandmama mused. “She’s incredibly qualified and capable at what she does. Any intelligent person would simply have hired a second governess to teach what she doesn’t. However, Barkley didn’t do that. Barkley terminated her employment.”
What the devil was she getting at? “Grandmama, I’ve never known you not to speak plainly.”
“And I’ve never known you to be obtuse. The blackguard had a tendre for Mrs. Cortland, and Lady Barkley knew it. Hence, Lady Barkley got rid of her.”
Fury squeezed at Val’s insides, and it was all he could do not to go home and throw Barkley out. No, he’d punch him first, and then he’d throw him out. And maybe punch him again. “She didn’t tell me that.”
“And why should she? You were simply her host, barely an acquaintance. Yet here you are managing her affairs—securing her lodgings and finding her employment. Good heavens, Eastleigh, if you want to make her your mistress, do so already.” Grandmama turned her head briefly toward Viola. “Pretend you didn’t hear that, dear.”
Viola blew out a breath. “I’m five and twenty, Grandmama. I am not unaware of the world.”
“I’d prefer to think you are unaware of such arrangements, even if you are not,” she said crisply. “Humor me.”
“I do not wish to make her my mistress,” Val said through somewhat gritted teeth. He wasn’t lying exactly. He hadn’t thought to make her his mistress—she would never agree. But now that it had been suggested…
No.
“Then, let her alone.” Grandmama’s tone was stern as she narrowed her eyes up at him. “If you spent half this much time in the pursuit of a wife, you might actually find one.”
Val had endured enough on that subject.
If only his grandmother knew how much he did, in fact, humor her. “I am not ready to take another wife, and I’d appreciate it very much if you’d stop pressing the matter.”
Grandmama’s eyes blazed with irritation. “What on earth are you waiting for? I understand your reticence, but it’s been three years. You will not make the same mistake twice.” She stood. “I will look after Mrs. Cortland, and in exchange, you will join me at Almack’s next week. I promise it won’t be painful.”
She departed the library, leaving Val to stare after her in anger and disbelief. “The hell it won’t be,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry about that,” Viola said quietly, reminding him of her presence since he’d quite forgotten she was even there. “But you invited it upon yourself.”
He jerked his head toward his annoying sibling. “And what should I have done, let Mrs. Cortland fend for herself?” Because that was what would have happened. She wasn’t going to stay in Barkley’s employ, of that he was now certain. Val could hardly wait to get home and toss him out. He looked forward to having his household back to normal, and it had nothing to do with their daughters but everything to do with Lady Barkley. She was an aggravating presence.
“You might have,” Viola answered. “I’m confident in Mrs. Cortland’s abilities. Perhaps you should be too. I have to assume you know her better than I do.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Assume nothing.”
Viola rose, smoothing her pale blue skirts as she approached him. Touching his arm gently, she said, “I should like to be here for you, if you need me.” She withdrew her hand and left.
Val surrendered to his familiar defense: he didn’t need anyone.
Chapter 11
Though she’d only started a few hours ago, Isabelle loved working at the circulating library. When she wasn’t reading, she was recommending reading. She was already thinking how she might use her savings to found her own circulating library. If only books weren’t so expensive. It was a crime, really. Only the wealthy could afford to buy them, and even circulating libraries weren’t free. Plus, you had to return the books, which in some cases had caused Isabelle great heartache.