The Broken Heart by Lancaster Mary

Author:Lancaster, Mary
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Medieval
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2020-01-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Pierre’s little house was situated on the edge of fashionable London, behind Russell Square. When Isabelle had stayed there in latter years, it had been when Pierre was absent—apart from one brief, abortive attempt at reconciliation shortly before he died. Usually, she left the Holland covers over most of the furniture, occupying only her own bedchamber and the small sitting room on the ground floor. She saw no reason to change this habit, particularly since she was about to be evicted.

Depressingly, her search for a governess’s post was not going well. The agencies she had approached were less than hopeful.

“Nothing in the top rank of society will be available to you,” she was told. “You have no references. And then, your name…”

She was almost on the verge of giving in and asking Elvira for a reference, though she shuddered to think what her cousin would write in her hurry to distance herself from the traitor Renarde. Changing her surname back to her father’s had at least earned her two interviews with the families of wealthy merchants. One had dismissed her solely on the strength of her looks. The other had insisted she could not live with a foreigner in the house.

On the final morning of October, she sat at her desk in the cramped sitting room, composing a letter of application for a post she wasn’t even sure existed. She had heard of it from an acquaintance met by chance yesterday afternoon, who had said her cousin, who lived in Yorkshire, was hoping to employ a governess for her four children “soon.” By this stage, Isabelle felt her best hope was probably to get there first and save the prospective employer from the drudgery of a search. Especially if she dropped in the cousin’s name.

When a knock sounded at the front door, she paid it little attention. It was usually tradesmen unable to find their way to the back door to request payment. She left the answering to Mrs. Raisin, her housekeeper, who was more of a maid of all work.

However, a few moments later, the sitting room door opened and Mrs. Raisin, looking impressed, said, “Lord Torbridge asks if you’ll receive him, ma’am.”

With odd relief, Isabelle replaced her pen in its stand and rose to her feet. “Of course, show him in. And bring some tea, if you please.”

Mrs. Raisin effaced herself, and the enigmatic figure of Lord Torbridge strolled in, smiling. “Madame de Renarde,” he greeted her, bowing and shaking hands.

“How pleasant to see you, my lord. Won’t you sit? Mrs. Raisin is bringing tea.”

“Most kind,” Torbridge said, taking the chair opposite hers by the fire, which was burning gathered wood rather than expensive coal. “There is a definite chill in the air. How are you after your adventures in Sussex?”

“Refreshed and determined,” Isabelle said lightly. “You find me in the midst of an intensive search for a suitable post.”

“I hope you have plenty of good ones to choose from?”

Isabelle wrinkled her nose. “I am not overwhelmed with offers.

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