by Sandy Raven
Penny exchanged curious glances with Charlotte and Isabel. “Thank you, Annie,” Charlotte said. “Isabel and I will be down shortly.”
After her maid was gone, Penny exhaled. As though an enormous weight lifted from her shoulders. “If you wouldn’t mind—” She pressed her hands together, bringing her finger tips to her chin. “Please inform my mother that I am claiming exhaustion from travel, and will decline going below for tonight. Annie can bring me a tray later.”
“Does Olivia know about you and Mr. Santiago?” This came from Isabel as she sat next to Charlotte on the edge of the bed.
“Lady Edgar does. She is the one who wrote to my mother when she recognized the name. Whether or not she told Olivia of the connection, I am unsure.”
“The best thing to do is to stick as close to the plan we decided on before we left London,” said Charlotte. “That is if he even comes to Rathcavan.”
Isabel agreed. “You just pretend he wasn’t that important to you at all. Act as though we don’t even remember him.”
“Do that,” Charlotte said, “and if you still feel that you cannot face him, then you can say you are unwell—”
“Until Monday,” Isabel added, “where we can leave for Edinburgh with your mother.”
Charlotte gave Isabel a look that made Penny want to laugh. Or, she would have if she were in a better mood.
“I thought you were staying here to hunt with Lady Adina. I wanted…”
“The right thing to do is go with Penelope and Aunt Beverly if they leave.” Isabel admonished.
“Go enjoy dinner,” Penny said. “And if you can learn anything new and interesting, I would love to hear it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Isabel asked.
“Not tonight.” Penelope had to, simply had to, grow a back bone between now and the next morning or her mother was sure to know she was still carrying a tendre for Mr. Santiago.
* * *
Isabel linked arms with Charlotte after closing Penelope’s door. She leaned in to speak to her in a whisper. “She will have to find the resolve she had before we walked into this castle very soon,” Isabel said to her cousin.
“Certainly before Mr. Santiago arrives,” Charlotte whispered back.
“We don’t know when that will be,” she replied. “So it might be a good idea to find out when he, and the earl, will get here.” Isabel wondered how it would look if her friend left with her mother, and she and Charlotte were to remain here. She didn’t think it would be good.
“I want you to consider something,” Isabel began, “that if Penny wishes to go with her mother to Edinburgh, I think we should go with them. Especially if a betrothal between her cousin and Mr. Santiago will take place. It might be unbearable for her, to see her cousin enter into a marriage, whether it’s by force or free will, with the man Penelope had fallen in love with. In that case, I think I will want to go with Aunt Beverly.”
Isabel knew that Charlotte really wanted to ride with the hunt next week, and so did she. But, where it felt to her that Charlotte wanted the hunt even at the expense of her friend’s happiness, Isabel just wanted Penelope to lay this issue with Mr. Santiago to rest as the past year has been difficult for them all—first with him away on a secret assignment, then learning of his return and his betrothal to Penelope’s cousin. It had taken everything Isabel and Charlotte had to keep Penny from sending the man a letter. She’d reminded Penelope that Mr. Santiago hadn’t been in London long, and perhaps he’d had a change of heart while he was away.
But that didn’t explain what he was doing in Scotland with her cousin, Olivia. Clearly these next few days would be difficult, though how difficult would depend on her cousin’s actions, and on Mr. Santiago’s explanation.
She and Charlotte reached the sprawling, wide staircase at the end of their hall, and when they stepped onto the landing mid-way down, Charlotte turned to look up behind them to make sure no one could hear what she wanted to say. “Certainly I will go if Aunt Beverly says I must,” she whispered. “But I am finally at Rathcavan, and I will not have that fickle Spaniard ruin my hunt.”
“Charlotte!” Isabel hissed.
“I’m sorry, but that man will hear a piece of my mind as soon as I can get him alone. What he did, leading my friend on then disappearing as he did, was despicable! If there was any proof besides Penny’s word, why she could sue him for breach of promise. I’ve heard my father talk of it before.”
“She would never want her pain on display for men to judge. Doing that would ruin her.”
“But Mr. Santiago needs to know that he cannot go around playing free with a lady’s affections. There are repercussions for men who make a habit of it.”
“While I feel very much the same as you, I care more about Penelope’s happiness than I do telling Mr. Santiago what a—” She looked around them to make sure no one was around. “—What a horse’s arse he is.”
A footman at the bottom of the steps glanced toward them, likely waiting to escort the two ladies to where the others gathered. Charlotte took the opportunity, to end the discussion by saying, “I care about both. Very much. He hurt my friend.”
When they landed on the main level near the great hall, the footman did, as Isabel guessed, leading she and Charlotte to where the family gathered before going in to dinner. Isabel stopped before stepping down into the hall. Voices carried through, and Isabel could hear her brother entertaining someone with one of his recent outings in London. Her brother was charming when he wanted to be—usually when there were pretty girls around. Since there were no other masculine voices, she wondered if there were any other men here besides Marcus.
She glanced up at Charlotte, who stood almost a full head taller than she did. When Charlotte nodded, the two of them turned the corner and descended into the great hall.
Isabel took in the room and the enormous, cut stone that comprised the walls, and massive beams overhead which obviously supported the slate roof she saw when their carriages arrived. This part of the castle, while ancient, was clean and in good repair, though still lit with candles in massive chandeliers hanging from the center rafter that bisected the length of the hall.
She saw her brother standing with a group of four women, one seated, the other three standing, and another man who looked to be a few years older than Marcus. They were all congregated around the massive hearth on one side of the long room. A fire blazed inside an opening big enough for Isabel to stand inside. She could almost envision rushes on the floor and giant Scottish hounds laying next to the laird of the estate, seated upon a throne. This part of the castle was surely as ancient as it looked. The mantle above the fire was a hand-hewn, enormous solid log that was built into the stone surround. On the wall opposite the hearth hung a massive tapestry featuring the colors and coat of arms for the earldom of Rathcavan—a golden dragon rampant on a background half red, half black.
As she and Charlotte drew closer to the cluster of people near the hearth, she smiled at her Aunt Beverly and Lady Adina who was seated near the fire. The other two ladies, and the man, were in deep conversation with her brother. The ladies turned and smiled when Marcus gestured toward her and Charlotte. The petite blonde, she concluded, was pretty. Very pretty. Her strawberry blonde hair was done in an elaborate chignon atop her head, and wisps of curls slipped her knot which gave her an endearing, youthful look.
Was this Olivia? She could see the familial resemblance to Penelope in coloring. But that was the only common thing. The other girl had curls, where Penny did not. The other girl was more strawberry blonde, not the golden blonde of her friend. The other girl was also petite and curvaceous, much like Isabel herself. Penelope and Charlotte were both tall and willowy.
She and Charlotte greeted Aunt Beverly, and Charlotte made her excuses for Penelope, saying she was still tired from the trip, but was sure to be fine tomorrow.
“Gowrey, if my great-niece is still not feeling well after a night’s rest, you must make
her well. We hunt next week, and I know she’s a game lass, and has likely been looking forward to the hunt as much as these other two ladies.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the young man said through a smile after giving her a mock bow. Isabel thought he was very handsome. Tall and lean, like her brother, he had dark auburn curls, worn unfashionably short. His striking silvery-blue eyes were warm and friendly, softening the brow, and his wide, square jaw made that smile feel genuine to her.
Gowrey? He was going to make this an interesting stay in the country. But how was he going to make Penelope better? As the introductions continued, Isabel learned that Gowrey was Doctor Alan Wallace Gowrey, physician at the Royal Hospital in Edinburgh, and cousin to the earl.
They were then introduced to Lady Edgar and Miss Olivia Gordon, the older woman she now understood was the countess’ daughter-in-law, aunt to Miss Olivia Gordon, and sponsor for her Edinburgh season.
“I have been more than a sponsor to my niece,” Lady Edgar intoned in a voice that was most irritating to the ears. A more high pitched, scratchy whine she’d never heard in her life. “Haven’t I, my darling girl?” Turning to Isabel and Charlotte, she added, “She has been my solitary focus for the past two years, preparing her for her season as her mother, God rest her, would have done had she survived.”
Olivia was behind Lady Edgar, standing next to Marcus, and she rolled her eyes at the girls, where her aunts and grandmother could not see. The act caused a tiny giggle to escape Isabel, which she immediately covered with a cough. She shouldn’t laugh at such childish actions, but it was so perfectly timed that she couldn’t help herself.
Isabel glanced up at her brother, almost a foot taller than she, and she noticed something different about him. He stood a little straighter and—oh, goodness!—he stared at the petite blonde with a soft smile she’d not seen on his face since… since he fancied himself in love with Miss Anne Tipton.
And that was when Isabel realized Marcus was taken by the little vixen. She was betrothed to another man, and her very own brother was charmed by her. Oh, this was going to be a very interesting month.
While Lady Adina, aunt Beverly, and Charlotte discussed the month ahead, Isabel tried to keep up with both groups of conversations. The more she listened to Miss Olivia speak, the more Isabel thought she sounded incredibly self-centered and vain—which begged the question… what was wrong with her brother?
She would have to take a moment to speak privately with him later, after dinner perhaps, and remind him of the other girl’s soon-to-be announced marital status. Being betrothed was as good as being married. While Isabel didn’t know if any contracts were signed, just the fact that Lady Edgar had assumed it was a true betrothal so much that she put it in a letter to Aunt Beverly, meant that the girl was as good as wed.
A footman called for dinner, and being the only titled gentleman in the building, Marcus offered Lady Adina his arm, and escorted their hostess into the dining hall. Lady Edgar and Aunt Beverly followed close behind them. Charlotte followed on the arm of Doctor Gowrey. Isabel and Miss Olivia walked behind them to the room across the foyer where an opulent display of china, crystal, and gold flatware was set at one end of table that was easily forty feet long.
“I’m so glad you were all able to make grandmother’s birthday celebration,” the young miss said. “And you shouldn’t feel obliged to hunt if you’d rather not. I don’t. Can’t abide it myself.”
“Thank you, but my friends and I…”
“I know my cousin Penelope is mad for the hunt, as is her mother, and Lady Camden is renowned for her skills with a horse, so I assume Lady Charlotte is as well. But I was hoping I would find a kindred soul with Lord Glencairn’s sister.”
Isabel was shocked, but her upbringing, and her years out in society taught her well how to refrain from expressing the first thoughts that came to mind.
“I’m afraid that I am very much excited for the opportunity to ride with your grandmother during this month,” Isabel said. “My aunts have revered her for years, praising her longevity with our favorite sport.”
“I didn’t know my Aunt Beverly was also your aunt.”
“She is my godmother,” Isabel said. “Aunt Beverly is as close to our family as a beloved aunt would be.”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware.” The other girl looked like a puppy that had been corrected. Had Isabel been curt in her explanation? She didn’t intend to be.
“I’m sorry, Miss Gordon,” Isabel said, “I didn’t intend to sound terse. Perhaps I, too, am more tired than I thought after two long days of travel.”
“That is completely understandable, Lady Isabel,” the young miss said. “Why just traveling by coach from Edinburgh is enough to exhaust me!”
They arrived to their seats, and Isabel discovered Miss Gordon was to sit on her right with Charlotte to her left. Across from them, Marcus was seated on Lady Adina’s left, as she was at the head of the table with Aunt Beverly on the hostess’ right, and next to her brother, Lady Edgar, then Doctor Gowrey. Lady Adina shared her seat at the head of the enormous table with Aunt Beverly and the two were deep into their discussion of Lord Huddleston’s whereabouts in his latest letter to her.
Lady Edgar, upset that she was left out of the conversation at the end of the table, brought up the subject that had been been on Isabel, Charlotte, and Penelope’s mind since their arrival.
“When is Rathcavan due to return with Mr. Santiago?”
Lady Adina passed a pointed glance from Lady Edgar, to Miss Olivia, then to the rest of her guests. “As soon as they are able. There has been an accident at the mill, and my grandson has said he will not restart production until the problem that caused the accident has been resolved.” Lady Adina, sipped from her crystal wine goblet.
The older woman met Isabel’s gaze before she turned her attention to her brother seated across from her. Her hazel eyes danced with merriment and pride in the new earl. “My grandson is a charming rake with a singular obsession—industrialization of the country. Several years ago, he and his cousin purchased an iron mill in Glasgow. This was just before he inherited the title.”
Lady Edgar, unsatisfied by her mother-in-law’s reply, pushed the matter again. “Well, surely they will arrive before the festivities are to begin on Saturday? Mr. Santiago has a betrothed here whom he abandoned almost immediately after their agreement—”
Lady Adina, didn’t miss a beat. She jumped into Lady Edgar’s annoying display of false temper. “They will get here when they get here, Margaret. We can hunt without them, my grandson knows this.” She gave Isabel and Charlotte a smile. “Though my grandson loves the hunt as much as I.”
While the talk was now about horses, hounds, and hunting, the footmen cleared the soup bowls away then brought in the next course, a pâté of some sort, on a bed of seasoned vegetables. Isabel wished dinner would end quickly so they could claim exhaustion and return to their rooms. There was much to discuss with Penelope. Isabel was certain their friend waited for them to return and get the gossip from their dinner conversation.
* * *
Charlotte closed the door behind Isabel when her cousin entered Penelope’s room after dinner. The trio had begged to be excused from the evening’s entertainments because of lingering fatigue from travel.
While they were truly tired, they also wanted to be spared Penelope’s cousin’s pianoforte playing and singing. Charlotte was sure the girl was satisfactory at both, but she had no desire to listen.
And Marcus was acting strange—as though he was interested in the chit. So the girl was passably pretty… it didn’t warrant paying her that much attention. Marcus couldn’t take his eyes off her when he thought no one was looking. To make things even more strange, the betrothed miss was acting equally as besotted with her cousin. The hussy! She had a fiancé, and she was flirting with her cousin!
Charlotte could not see Olivia as Marcus’ marchioness, and forced the image trying to form out of her head. She’d have to talk to him,
maybe shake some sense into him. Get him to see through the helpless miss act.
But first, she had to share with Penny the interesting behaviors of the countess, Lady Edgar, Olivia, and Marcus. Then she’d tell her friend about the handsome doctor. The cousin to the new earl.
“I find it interesting that the very morning after he decided he would marry Miss Olivia, he left Rathcavan for Glasgow with the new earl.” Isabel spoke in a hushed tone, as she sat opposite Charlotte on Penny’s bed. The three of them gossiped about the dinner, and all the interesting discoveries. “And Miss Olivia! Her behavior!”
“You noticed, too?” Charlotte whispered. “I was hoping I wasn’t the only one who saw that. Your brother must be careful.”
“I was thinking that same thing,” Isabel replied. “I’m planning to talk to him.”
“Miss Olivia is a prodigious flirt,” Charlotte added. “Indeed, she is of the first order. I know she is your cousin, Penny, dear, but she is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered.”
“I am curious why he left so suddenly after becoming engaged to marry?” Penny mused.
“From what I overheard when Miss Olivia was talking to Marcus,” Isabel said, “the new earl received a note regarding the accident at his iron mill and he and Mr. Santiago left immediately to set things to right again.”
“He went to help his friend, and not run from Olivia,” Penny said. “Is she making it sound to Marcus that Mr. Santiago abandoned her?”
Isabel nodded.
“That is suspicious. Why would she do that?” Charlotte asked to no one in particular. Was he running from Olivia? Could it be because he still cared for Penny? And if he did, why did he not write to her?
Penny, and Isabel also, were her two best friends. Charlotte would do anything for them, including protect them from men whose only intent is to hurt her friends. She wouldn’t even have to ask them to know instinctively that they would do the same.
“I don’t know what to make of it,” Penny said, her voice flat and hollow-sounding. When her friend sat up on the bed, eyes glazed over with shock of the evening’s revelations, Charlotte realized she was still in a great deal of pain.