“That will not happen,” he replied. “There is too much to do, and time is not currently our ally.” He glanced at the door for a moment. “I wish I could take you with me, but you would only be bored, and Mother needs someone here with her. But please be wary of Isaac. Remain guarded. I hope to be gone no longer than a fortnight, and Forbes will return soon to keep an eye on things. Make sure you do not go anywhere without Lydia to accompany you.”
Harmony laughed. “I will be fine,” she replied. “And perhaps when you return it will be with good news.”
“That is my hope,” he said. “For I will not cease until my title is secure.”
Although Harmony nodded, inside she worried. Would his pursuits cause him more harm than good?
Regardless, she would continue to be courteous to Isaac, for kindness eventually leads to good. Is that not what the stories always told?
Chapter Eight
Lydia Scanting feigned interest in the carriage David Hatcher was currently inspecting. It was not that she had a desire to learn more about a driver’s responsibilities, but rather she wanted to be near the man. He was well into his thirties with silver speckling his otherwise dark hair, but she had never seen a man so handsome. His blue eyes and smile worked together to make her breath catch every time he looked at her.
“I’m afraid Lord Lambert’s upset with me about my driving,” he said as he polished the handle on the carriage door. “Why else would he insist on going by horse rather than riding?”
Lydia knew why the baron was traveling, and why he did so alone, but no matter how much she had come to admire David, she would never reveal what was told to her in secret. Harmony had treated her better than any friend, and as far as she was concerned, that friendship was sacred.
“Lady Lambert told me that she hasn’t any concerns over your driving,” she assured him. “And as far as the lord’s concerned, is it really all that unusual for a man like him to go off alone?”
David sighed and brushed a hand through his hair, and Lydia wished she could do the same. “I s’pose you’re right. They sure are a pleasure to work for, the lord and lady, don’t you think? But I s’pose I’m getting too old for this work.”
Lydia frowned. “Old? You’re but ten years older than me!”
He chuckled. “You’re young. At six ‘n thirty, that makes me twelve years older than you.”
He winked and then smiled, and Lydia knew she had to be ten shades of red. For a moment, they stared into one another’s eyes, and Lydia’s heart picked up its pace. Would he finally acknowledge that there was something between them?
However, as always, he turned away without saying the words she longed to hear. She did not have any particular words, per se, but she had no doubt he was interested in her just as she was in him.
“I really should be working,” he said, returning to his polishing. “I’m not paid to talk.”
“You are paid to drive this carriage,” she retorted. “And I don’t think Lady Lambert would mind if you took a short break from your duties to speak with me.”
As David pondered this, an idea came to Lydia. “Would you care to join me for a meal?” she asked.
His eyes widened. “I…that is…that’d be nice.”
Lydia smiled. She wanted to know David better, but he was reluctant to spend more than a few moments talking to her. If breaking bread together provided them with an opportunity to learn more about one another, she would welcome it.
“But, I am…I can’t.”
The abruptness of his response startled her, and she frowned.
“I’ve work to do.”
As he turned to walk away, she grabbed his arm. “Don’t you like me?” she demanded. “Have I offended you in some way?”
He sighed. “It’s not that,” he replied, not looking her in the face. “It’s me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I find your company pleasing, and you’re beaut…” He swallowed visibly. “What I mean to say is that when you walk into a room, you’ve got a commanding presence…” He shook his head. “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve had to tell Clive the gardener not to discuss how pretty you are.” His cheeks turned a bright red, and she could not help but smile. “I don’t speak with great eloquence, but though I do find you captivating, if our friendship became… something more, you’d realize what an old man I am and go out in search of someone better suited for you. Someone younger and wiser, who’s not a simple driver.”
Lydia had never heard any man speak with such honesty, and it spoke volumes. “You don’t realize how much I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think you old and have no thoughts of looking for someone younger. And most certainly not a gardener. Plus, he’s an odd smell about him.”
David laughed, and she joined in.
“Now that we’ve cleared that up,” she said, “would you consider eating with me later? I’d like to get to know you better.”
“I’d like that,” he replied with a smile. “But we’d best finish this conversation at dinner tonight. Lady Lambert and the cousin are watching.”
Lydia turned to find that indeed Harmony and Isaac were standing on the portico. Although she agreed that her mistress was doing the right thing by being kind to the man, she did not trust him one bit. She had caught him all too often with lingering looks, not only on her but on her mistress, as well. Such impropriety deserved little praise in her opinion, whether he became the baron or not.
“I’ll see you tonight, then,” she said. “I must go.”
Curious as to what Mr. Isaac Thorn was up to, she approached the pair. No, she did not trust that man one bit!
***
Although Nathaniel had been gone only a day, Harmony felt as if it were a year. She longed to have her husband beside her, but he had mentioned he would be gone for at least two weeks.
Her sadness was replaced by joy as she watched Lydia speaking with David. It was evident that a romance was blossoming between them and she could not wait to hear about it in full detail later when Lydia went to help her dress for bed.
The door opened, and Isaac walked outside, looking dapper in his black coat and perfectly tied stark-white cravat.
“Today will be your first lesson,” she said with a smile. “Are you ready?”
“I am,” he replied, although he was not looking at her but rather toward the pair beside the carriage. “What is your lady’s maid doing?”
“I would say she is speaking with David,” Harmony replied. Then she lowered her voice secretively. “I believe the two are growing closer and may share in some romantic notions. Is it not beautiful?”
Isaac snorted, his disdain obvious. “Are not such things frowned upon?” he demanded. “I thought servants were dissuaded from developing relationships between them. I would be upset to learn that I was paying them for time spent flirting rather than working.”
“Granted, it is discouraged but neither is it unheard of. And does not everyone deserve a moment of respite? Especially when he or she has eyes for another?”
“I suppose so,” Isaac replied, his tone suddenly changed. “There is no harm in them speaking to one another. And when it comes to romance, nothing should stop someone from pursuing such interests.”
Harmony turned toward him to respond and was surprised to find his gaze upon her. For a moment, an odd sensation went through her, almost a tickling of her spine when the wind moans through the trees. Could this man have romantic intentions toward her?
No, of course he would not. She was married. And to his brother of all people.
“That is what I hope for when I attend my first party,” he continued. “To find a woman, just as that mere driver has. And as my brother has.”
Harmony released the breath she had not realized she was holding. Her fears were unfounded. What a silly goose she was! “Indeed,” she replied. “Although, you must ready yourself for not finding that woman at your first party. More than likely it will take several before
the right lady finds her way to you. Now, for your first lesson, I must know if you know the proper way to stroll with a woman.”
Isaac blanched. “I do not. I do offer my arm if I am not mistaken.”
She smiled. “That is the first step, yes,” she replied. When he offered his arm, she placed her hand upon it, and they made their way down the steps. “Very good. Just remember that you are leading the pace. You neither want to walk too fast, for your partner may stumble, but you also do not want to walk too slowly, for it exudes a lack of confidence.”
When they reached the bottom step, Lydia approached and bobbed a quick curtsy. “Lady Lambert, Mr. Thorne. I was going to…”
“Lord Thorne,” Isaac interrupted. “That will be my title soon enough, and you may as well acclimate yourself now to addressing me as such.”
Lydia dropped into a deeper curtsy. “Forgive me, Lord Thorne,” she said. Then she turned to Harmony. “I’m going to ready your clothes for dinner this evening. Was there any particular dress you would like to wear?”
“I was considering the blue gown with the yellow ribbons,” Harmony replied.
“Oh, do choose green,” Isaac said. “It is my favorite color. You do not mind, do you?”
“Not at all,” Harmony said, although she found the request odd. “Then make it the green gown with the white lace overlay.”
With a nod, Lydia bobbed another quick curtsy and hurried around the side of the house to the servants’ entrance.
“This Lydia,” Isaac said as he led Harmony toward the stables, “she is more than a lady’s maid I suspect.”
Harmony laughed. “Oh, yes. Over the years, she has become a very good friend, someone in which I am able to confide or who is able to offer me advice. I do not know what I would have done about my parents if it were not for her.”
Isaac came to stop. “What happened concerning your parents?”
She realized she had said too much, and although she was willing to help her husband’s brother in hopes of securing Nathaniel’s title, there were things she could not, and should not, say.
As an excuse formed on her lips, Isaac dropped his arm and sighed. “Forgive me. I am not family — perhaps not even an acquaintance but rather a stranger. It would be more likely you would inform the cobbler than me.”
He turned to walk away, but Harmony touched his arm. “My reluctance is not because I view you as a stranger, for you are indeed family.” She sighed. What harm would it do to tell him the truth? “My parents were not pleased about my engagement to Nathaniel, and Lydia was there to help me through a distressing time.” It was near enough the truth that Harmony hoped he would accept it.
“I see,” he said, offering his arm again. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It is comforting to know that you view me as family — and dare I say perhaps a friend?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied. That was taking it a bit too far. Yet, if she hoped to influence his decisions, she had to make him a friend.
As they made their way back to the portico and up the steps, she could not help but laugh. “I had nearly forgotten we were in the midst of a lesson.”
“Have I done well, or am I in need of more practice?” Isaac asked with a grin.
“You performed perfectly,” she replied. “Your pace was leisurely but not slow, and you did not step on my foot even once.”
He raised a single brow. “Oh? Is that common?”
She laughed again. “Indeed. Young men learning how to conduct themselves in the presence of a young lady tends to send their nerves into a jumble. And their brains, as well.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “I can certainly see how that would be the case.” He smiled down at her. “And my next lesson?” he asked. “When will that occur? Tomorrow?”
Harmony considered for a moment and then replied, “Tonight at dinner. We can speak on etiquette at the dinner table.”
With a nod, Isaac opened the door and allowed her to enter first. As she turned to tell him that she would be going to lie down, he grasped her by the arms, making her heart thump in her breast.
“Thank you for today,” he said as he gazed down at her. “You have made me happy, and trust me, that is a difficult feat to achieve.” Then he released her and walked away, not allowing her to respond.
Well, if teaching a man how to escort or speak to a lady was what it took to make him happy, she would gladly continue to do so. It meant she was a step closer to mending the rift between him and her husband. And possibly saving the barony.
Chapter Nine
Dear God, please allow me to see them one more time, Eleanor thought as she looked at the stack of letters on her desk, all requesting the recipient’s attendance at Scarlett Hall in one month’s time. Each had been carefully written and now awaited delivery. Although her penmanship would not have pleased her tutors in her younger years, the words had come from her heart. The truth was her health was failing and the strain of this dreadful situation with Isaac was only making it worse.
There was still hope for the latter, for Forbes would return soon, perhaps even today, and if the news he carried was unfavorable, Nathaniel was in London doing his part, as well.
Her biggest worry, however, was that the lovely Harmony would be the one to suffer. The girl had been doing all she could to offer Isaac kindness, and although Eleanor saw it as a noble gesture, she doubted the man had the discernment needed to recognize it. She had been alive too long and encountered too many people not to recognize someone who was rotten to the core.
Well, at least Harmony was safe within the walls of Scarlett Hall. As long as she, Eleanor, was alive, she would see no harm came to her daughter-in-law.
She sighed. But for how long could she keep the girl safe? Not long, of that she was certain. Each day her body grew more ragged, her journey up the stairs requiring a pause halfway to catch her breath.
Although her body hurt and her soul cried out, there was no time to rest, no time to make herself more comfortable. The great ancestral home of Scarlett Hall was at stake, and she had to do what she could to see it remained in Nathaniel’s capable hands.
Leaning against the window frame, she peered outside as she had done so many times before. Her thoughts went to her children and the longing to see them once again weighed down on her.
They would come, of that she was certain, but her lovely Juliet, who now lived in France, would not be able to come, and that knowledge was nearly Eleanor’s undoing despite the fact she would see it sent by courier as quickly as possible. It was why her youngest daughter’s letter had been the last one written and the longest of them all.
She turned as Forbes entered the room, weariness from his travels evident on his features. Yet, his eyes told her more, and they sent coldness to her heart.
“It is all true,” she said as he approached as if it were she had been the one out gathering information rather than he. “You found his story to not be wanting.” Somehow she had already known.
“I am afraid so,” he replied. “I spoke to many witnesses — shop owners, innkeepers, whomever I could — and all told the same story. Charles had indeed held festivities to celebrate his nuptials. I cannot see them all colluding to be a part of some great ruse.”
Eleanor shook her head even as she gave a mirthless laugh. “So, while I defied my mother and was banished from my home, Charles took it upon himself to marry another.” Her lungs burned as she gave another heavy sigh, but she swallowed back the cough that rose. “How strange it is that, after all I have learned about him, I was naive to something so important.”
“Even I believed his tale of the burning of the stables to be true,” Forbes said. “However, it no longer matters, for it is in the past. We are here today and therefore must focus our attention on that.”
She nodded. “That is what I have done,” she said, motioning to the letters on the desk. Then she looked at the man she loved, and tears filled her eyes. “My dream of leaving here will not happen.
I lack the strength to journey to a new home. It is so unfair to you, and I am sorry about that.”
“There is no need to apologize,” Forbes whispered. “This is beyond your control.”
Eleanor wiped at her eyes. “But our dream of leaving here so we may be together will not come true, and I must admit that the hurt from that knowledge goes deep.”
As she looked up at Forbes, tears streaming down her cheeks unchecked, she was greeted with a smile.
“Lady Lambert,” he whispered as he wiped away the wetness, “we may be unable to leave, but we have always been together through days of storms and sunshine, and nothing will ever take that away.”
“You are right,” Eleanor replied, smiling. “You have always been at my side.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “And I always will be,” he said. “Nothing, not even Death himself, will ever keep me from there.”
***
It had been over two weeks since Nathaniel left Scarlett Hall, and Isaac could not have been happier. The destruction of the Lambert family was coming closer every day, and not one of them saw it. They were as blind as beggars to the fate they would meet.
By all outward appearances, he carried on as the kind man wanting nothing more than to learn the truth, but the truth they would learn was far different from that which they expected. His entire life had been spent under the stigma of being born out of wedlock, a bastard.
When his mother had confessed to him that Lord Charles Lambert — a baron of all things! — was his father, he had thought it was her illness that had led her to flights of fancy.
“Yes, Mother,” he had told her as he brushed back a lock of amber hair from her face.
She grabbed his hand and gave him a stern glare for the first time in months. “Ye should be the rightful heir to a vast fortune,” she croaked. “No matter what ye’ve heard, no matter the stories I’ve told ye, we were married, my son. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”
Cry of the Baroness: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 9 Page 5