As he casually looped the reins around a sturdy post nearby that marked a partially exposed boundary wall in the dig, Isobel thought furiously about how to react. She decided that the best tack to take would be to behave as though nothing at all were unusual, and that their encounter was occurring in a London drawing room. She smiled on Lord Francis graciously.
"Lord Francis!" she said. "I had thought you were returning to Strancaster or visiting Brighton. What brings you to the wilds of Scotland?"
Lord Francis waved one hand airily. "Strancaster grew somewhat dull after the charms of town, and I was invited to visit my very dear friend Lord Glencairn. He has an estate some few miles from here, as I believe you are aware?" He paused for a moment so Isobel could assent.
"I had heard of these ruins, and having some small interest in Roman antiquities from my time at Oxford, I thought I might view them. Instead I find myself viewing you, which is quite a delightful variation upon the theme."
Isobel drew in a deep breath and forged ahead, precisely as though they had encountered one another in a friend’s drawing room while paying afternoon calls. "Are you enjoying your stay in Scotland?" she inquired.
"Oh, most assuredly. I find the air to be quite salubrious. I feel sure that this will do my health great good. And you, Miss Paley? Forgive me, but what are you doing here?"
"You will no doubt recall that I possess a small property near here, at which I usually spend the summer days, Lord Francis." said Isobel. "I also find the air to be most healthful."
Lord Francis inspected her again with the air of a connoisseur. "Miss Paley, surely you have no need to repair your constitution? You are the very image of vigor."
"I thank you, Lord Francis," she said with some asperity, it not being fashionable for women to be robustly strong. "My health is excellent."
"I am reassured. I would not like to think of someone as energetic as you, Miss Paley, repairing to her bed and pining away."
"There is little chance of that, sir," replied Isobel tartly.
"And does Miss Harriet also rejoice in good health?" inquired Lord Francis.
"My cousin does very well, sir," said Isobel, her toe beginning to tap dangerously. Really, Lord Francis was growing annoying. He appeared to be as determined as she was to pretend their encounter was in no way extraordinary.
"I am relieved to hear so." Lord Francis gazed about as he removed a snuffbox from his pocket and took a pinch with an air. He gestured to the site around them, his face displaying polite amazement. "Forgive me, ma'am, but this is a deuced odd place in which to encounter you. How come you to be at this work site at this unaccountable hour? Surely a lady is not supervising these workers?"
Isobel laughed as lightly as she could in spite of a growing feeling of disbelief at Lord Francis' absurd conversation. "Why no, Lord Francis, what a foolish conceit. I am not capable of supervising these workers! Surely you would not think I have an interest in these grubby bits of stone? I scarcely know Roman from medieval! I am aiding my cousin, Alexander Paley. He has an interest in this site, and, as I am staying nearby, begged me to make some drawings of these mosaics for him. I am considered to have a reasonably good eye, and I could hardly refuse a request from one of my favorite relatives."
"Ah, yes, the ubiquitous Mr. Paley," murmured Lord Francis. "May I see the sketches? I have a passion for mosaics."
Isobel reluctantly offered him her sketchbook, and he leafed through it languidly.
"Charming, Miss Paley. As I noted once before, you have a touch with these antiquities," he said, returning it to her. "Your cousin will doubtless be most grateful. I encountered him recently, and we had an interesting conversation. I had no idea his interest in the Roman period in Britain was so well-developed."
"You saw Alexander?" asked Isobel, finding it best to dissemble.
"Indeed; he was in London and our paths fortunately crossed. We were acquainted at Oxford, you will remember, and shared some historical interests. And of course I could not refrain from asking him about his new interest in Roman antiquities in Scotland. I was fascinated to learn he was publishing his findings under a pseudonym." He gave Isobel a sidelong glance.
"Indeed? I am afraid I do not read Alexander's papers, Lord Francis," said Isobel.
"But surely you are aware of their content, Miss Paley? I feel sure you told me you make fair copies for him?" Lord Francis appeared bewildered.
"Why yes, I do," said Isobel, cursing Lord Francis’ excellent memory. "But, when copying, one scarcely absorbs what one is reading, and Alexander's writings are far above my level of expertise."
"Ah, yes, that would doubtless explain it," said Lord Francis "One cannot expect a woman to have the same interest in these matters as men."
"Certainly not," said Isobel. "Why, such a woman would be a positive oddity."
"No doubt," agreed Lord Francis. "If you are done with today's labors, Miss Paley, perhaps you will permit me to accompany you home? I would be delighted to escort you, and to see Miss Harriet again."
Isobel could see no graceful way to refuse him, although she was feeling a distinct desire to grind her teeth. "Of course, Lord Francis. That would be very kind of you. I am sure Cousin Harriet will be delighted to see you." At least, she reflected, the latter statement was true.
She gathered her pencils as he watched, and allowed him to escort her to her mount. He gracefully threw her into the saddle and then mounted his own animal, a well-made bay.
They turned towards Isobel's home. Conversation was desultory, as Lord Francis seemed to be thoughtful, and Isobel was attempting to hide her annoyance. Lord Francis's appearance in Scotland at this time was the greatest inconvenience. His vexatious predilection for her company would surely force her to spend less time than she could desire at the excavation site, for he would doubtless spread word in the neighborhood of her arrival, which would result in countless invitations. Even now he was accompanying her home, where he would surely sit and gossip with Harriet at a time when she would much rather be reviewing the day's findings. She found his condescension tiresome and teasing, and could not prevent the image of his comradeship with Lord Morgan from arising before her eyes. All in all, her irritation with Lord Francis was extreme.
In contrast to Isobel's feeling on the subject of Lord Francis, Miss Harriet was delighted to find herself once again in the presence of the handsome gentleman.
"Lord Francis!" she exclaimed when he accompanied Isobel into the sitting room. "What a wonderful surprise. I had no idea that we might be seeing you here in Scotland, not but what it is the unexpected visitor that is the most welcome. It is very odd that you should be here, of course; what brings you to this part of the kingdom?"
Isobel shot Lord Francis an inquisitive glance, but that gentleman appeared unembarrassed. "I had no intention of being here, ma'am, but I found that my friend Lord Glencairn was eager for my company."
"Well, for whatever reason you are here, I am grateful you have arrived and have come to visit us. I have been fearfully bored here, what with Isobel out all the time and so little to do! You are exactly what I need to revive my spirits."
"I am delighted that I can alleviate your doldrums, Miss Harriet," responded Lord Francis. "Pray, tell me why is Miss Paley is neglecting you so?"
Before Harriet could respond, Isobel leaped in. "Why, she merely speaks of my drawings for Alexander," she said. "But I shall very soon be done with those, and I will be able to spare more time for other activities."
"How wonderful," said Lord Francis. "I will be sure to let Lord Glencairn know that you are in residence. He is planning numerous entertainments, which I am sure you ladies would enjoy immensely."
"That would be excessively thoughtful of you, Lord Francis," said Harriet, looking pleased. "I am sure that Isobel could do with some entertainments outside of her attention to those tedious ruins. Why, ever since we have come to Scotland, she has done nothing but talk of them. Of course, it is no different from any other year and yet
..."
Isobel leapt in once again, fearful of where Harriet's conversation might lead her. "I am sure that Lord Francis does not wish to hear tales of our previous summers in Scotland, Harriet. Pray, Lord Francis, do tell us how your parents are?"
With Isobel firmly at the helm, the conversation was steered to less treacherous waters. To that lady's considerable annoyance, Lord Francis stayed to tea, exerting himself to the utmost to be charming. Miss Paley remained unmoved, although Miss Harriet was delighted by his presence. When the gentleman took his leave, long after Isobel felt he should have been gone, she barely smiled as she extended her hand.
"But how cold you are, Miss Paley," said Lord Francis, his mirth barely disguised. "Have I done something to offend you?"
"Not at all," replied Isobel, summoning a smile and attempting to better conceal her displeasure. "I am merely surprised to find you here in Scotland."
"Perhaps I can make that a pleasant surprise," said his lordship. "I am sure, now that the neighborhood will know of your presence, that our paths will cross many times."
He pressed his lips to her hand and was gone with a bow and a smile, leaving Isobel to wrestle with her various emotions, which ranged from seething anger to a barely acknowledged pleasure that Lord Francis had apparently sought her out. She pressed her lips together. Whatever his motives, he was sure to be a nuisance that would interrupt her summer's work.
Chapter 17
Isobel's encounter with Lord Francis led to all the inconveniences she had imagined. Invitations to parties, picnics, and dances poured in, and she was forced to accept at least some of them or appear unduly churlish. Harriet was delighted, but Isobel was perturbed. Picnics interfered with her daytime hours at the excavation, and late evenings at the homes of neighbors made it difficult to rise early and be on site during the coolest part of the day.
Everywhere she went she encountered Lord Francis Wheaton, smiling politely, helping her to find a seat, asking her to dance, complimenting her on her appearance. It was too irksome of him. She was even afraid to stay too long at the dig, for there was always the possibility that his lordship would appear, supercilious smile in place, and ask her any number of difficult to answer questions.
Before long an invitation arrived for an evening at Lord Glencairn's estate. The party was to consist of some local gentry, with a dinner and dancing a few reels afterwards in the drawing room. Isobel longed to decline, but Miss Harriet was transported with delight at the chance to see Glencairn Castle.
"For, my dear, it is quite famous as a repository of wonderful artwork. Not that I am any judge at all, of course, but I would so love to say I had seen the objets d'art said to be there. And Margaret Cheswick will be dreadfully jealous when I tell her, for she fancies herself a judge of what is artistic and what is not, and she will be quite green to know that I have stolen such a march on her. And of course, you are the sort of woman who can appreciate such things, my dear; I am sure you shall be transported by his collection. And dear Lord Francis will be there, and the two of you dance together so charmingly. 'Twill be delightful, and I am sure that there is no reason we cannot go."
In the face of such resolution, Isobel had no choice but to acquiesce. If she lingered a bit over her toilette the evening of the party, Babbidge did not say anything. If she also chose one of her loveliest gowns to wear, and then checked carefully to ensure that its dark rose colored overdress opening over a white underdress with claret sprigging was flattering, well, 'twas merely because she felt the need to dress up after her long day in the field in a plain gray dress.
The Paley ladies arrived at Glencairn Castle and entered to find the mansion brilliantly lit and wonderfully decorated. Harriet was overcome by the splendor of it all, and even Isobel had to allow the Earl possessed exquisite taste. He greeted them kindly, bowing graciously over their hands.
"How kind of you to join us," he said graciously. "My friend Lord Francis Wheaton has spoken often and well of you both. I am honored to have you in my house; I have heard something of your reclusiveness while in Scotland."
Isobel smiled. "It is not an intentional abrogation of my social duties, my lord," she said. "It is merely that after the round of entertainments in London, a certain solitude is attractive."
"An admirable sentiment," he said. "I am glad that you nevertheless decided to attend my party this evening."
"It is my pleasure," she replied. The gentleman was too kind to not accept his compliments with good grace.
"I am doubly glad that Lord Francis is visiting me now, if he is the one who has managed to coax you out of your house," continued Lord Glencairn.
Lord Glencairn turned to Harriet, and Isobel soon heard him promising to give her a personal tour of his renowned art collection.
"And is Lady Glencairn not here?" asked Harriet. "I would so like to meet the mistress of this lovely home."
"I am a widower these ten years, madam," said the Earl. "I have two children, of ages eleven and thirteen, and I fear they miss their mother very much."
"What a pity," agreed Harriet. "Children do need a mother's tender care to help them grow. Not but what I am sure that you are the very best father they could hope for, and that you have made up in every way possible for their loss. How I do go on! I should not dwell so long on such a sad subject."
The Earl bowed. "Not at all, madam. Your sentiments do you honor."
Isobel was amused to see them getting on so well, but her attention was soon distracted by the approach of Lord Francis Wheaton. He was dressed with great propriety in black evening clothes, a single diamond glowing in his elegantly arranged cravat. He raised his quizzing glass to admire her, and she lifted her chin under his scrutiny.
"Charming," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hand. "I am transfixed."
"But not speechless," observed Isobel, somewhat tartly.
"I shall always have speech to sing your praises," said Lord Francis, so extravagantly that a smile was coaxed out of Isobel.
"You are ridiculous, sir," she said. "I believe I once told you that I did not need to be showered with pretty compliments."
"Indeed you did, quite taking me aback," said Lord Francis. "But I find that it is very difficult not to praise a lady as lovely as you. It appears to have become a habit."
Isobel laughed. "You have contrived to compliment me at the same time that you acknowledge I do not care to be complimented."
Lord Francis gave her a very genuine smile. "I am rewarded by your laughter," he said.
Lord Francis offered Isobel his arm, and she took it with a certain degree of pleasure. Despite her recent ill‑humor with him, she had to admit that she found him charming when he chose to be. They progressed through the rooms, and Isobel was intrigued to note that he had a considerable understanding of the art collection that surrounded them.
"You are very knowledgeable, sir," she said.
"Only in certain areas," said Lord Francis. "I have made considerable study of Grecian marbles of the type we are currently examining, and can speak of them quite fluently. However, if I were to be presented with an Egyptian object or perhaps an item from the Roman occupation of Britain, I would be far less capable. At such a time we would have to wish that Marcus Paley was at our side!"
Isobel shot him a quick glance from under her lashes, but Lord Francis' face showed only bland good humor. "We could wish him here," she said, "but, as we both know, Marcus Paley is my cousin Alexander. But I am sure, that were he present, he would enjoy these marbles greatly."
"Indeed," said Lord Francis. "They are particularly fine, I believe."
Relieved that Lord Francis was not attempting to pursue the topic of Marcus Paley, Isobel allowed herself to relax and enjoy the evening. The company was excellent, the food remarkable, and the music delightful. At some point she even forgot to regret that the late evening would cut into her working hours on the next day.
Isobel was not seated near Lord Francis at dinner, but afterwards, he solicited he
r for a dance. Although she felt a momentary qualm, remembering the Perchingham ball, she assented, and was soon enjoying the steps of a reel, at which Lord Francis seemed to be as adept as the waltz.
"I will have to give my compliments to our host," she said. "It has been a delightful evening."
"This is a lovely house," he responded. "Certainly, it is far more tasteful than the Marine Pavilion at Brighton. I am glad I followed your lead and repaired to Scotland rather than to the seaside."
"Was it my views that brought you here?" asked Isobel. "I am flattered that you should think so highly of my opinion."
"I have always respected good sense, a commodity you seem to have in abundance," said Lord Francis.
Isobel fell silent, not quite sure if this was a compliment or not. She gave herself up to the movement of the dance, and began to feel quite peaceful. Lord Francis was such an able dancer that she almost felt as though she floated.
Lord Francis watched her go down the reel. The pleasure in her wide green eyes told him what he wanted to know; that, no matter what she might say, she enjoyed his company. He was sorely tempted to once again coax her out onto the terrace, but he resisted. This woman was not to be won through romantic blandishments.
The dance ended, and Isobel found that they stood near the doors to the terrace. Lord Glencairn was close at hand, and greeted them with a smile.
"You dance together delightfully," he said.
"Thank you," said Lord Francis. "Miss Paley and I have previously discussed how well our steps match one another’s." He smiled at Isobel warmly.
Isobel gave him a reproving look. "Lord Francis is a skilled dancer. Any woman would be made to look graceful by his prowess." She determinedly changed the subject. "Are your gardens as lovely as your house, Lord Glencairn?"
The Secret Bluestocking: Isobel's Traditional Regency Romance Page 16