HP1 The Madness Of Lord Ian Mackenzie by Jennifer Ashley

Author:Jennifer Ashley [Ashley, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9780425244463
Google: zmLD7E3nbnwC
Amazon: 0425244466
Barnesnoble: 0425244466
Goodreads: 9913082
Published: 2009-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

They left immediately for Scotland. Beth had only a few hours to pack and say good-bye to Isabella, because Ian was suddenly in a tearing hurry.

“Oh, darling, I’m so happy.” Tears wet Isabella’s lashes as she gathered Beth in a right hug. “I’ve always wanted a sister, and you are the best I can think of.” She held Beth at arm’s length. “Make him happy. Ian deserves to be happy, more than any of them.”

“I’ll try,” Beth promised.

Isabella’s dimples showed. “When I move back to London, you’ll come down and stay with me, and we’ll have scads of fun.”

Beth clung to Isabella’s hands. “Are you certain you won’t come with us now? I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, darling, but no. You and Ian need to be alone together, and Kilmorgan—“ She broke off, pain in her eyes. “Too many memories for me. Not yet.”

They hugged again. Beth hadn’t realized how fond she’d grown of Isabella, the openhearted young woman who’d taken Beth under her wing and shown her a new and astonishing world.

Isabella hugged Ian as well, expounding upon how happy she was for him. At last Ian and Beth made their way to the train station, with Curry and Katie and another carriage full of boxes and bags. Beth quickly learned how much aristocrats took for granted when Ian guided her into the first-class compartment and left Curry to see to the baggage, the tickets, and Katie. For all Ian’s assertions that he didn’t fit anywhere, he was still a lord, a duke’s brother, rich and lofty enough to ignore the tiny details of life. He had people to pay attention to those details for him.

Mrs. Barrington’s voice in Beth’s head had grown fainter in the last days, and Beth heard it only weakly now. You ‘vent well above yourself, my gel. See that you don’t make a meal of it.

She wondered what Thomas would have said, and found his voice completely gone. Tears blurred the ponderous station that slid past the windows as the train began to move. Ian hadn’t even bothered to wonder whether Curry made it aboard before they went. Beth compared this leaving to her own departure from Victoria Station: Mrs. Barrington’s wheezing, elderly butler trying to help but dropping everything he picked up, Katie convinced their luggage would be stolen and never seen again, and the lady’s maid Beth had hired having hysterics about “foreign parts” and running off at the last minute. Of course, Curry had no such problems. He appeared calmly at the door of their compartment as they glided through Paris to tell them he’d ordered tea and squared the tickets, and asked if they wanted anything else. Very efficient, very calm, as though his master hadn’t just rushed into a marriage and a journey of hundreds of miles on top of it. Beth also discovered, as they left Paris behind and chugged across rain-soaked France, how restless Ian could be. After only half an hour in their private compartment, Ian left to roam the train, walking up and down, up and down.

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