In Honour Bound by Elizabeth Bailey

Author:Elizabeth Bailey [Bailey, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2019-07-03T23:00:00+00:00

All was set and Richard gave his final instructions to his butler, who told him the groom and coachman would have the travelling carriage at the door in a trice.

“Excellent. I may trust Reeve to see all is as it should be.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

Topham put a hand to his mouth and gave a discreet cough. Richard looked a question.

“Mrs Pennyfather has caused a hot brick to be placed in the coach, my lord, along with the travel rugs.”

“Good God! Does she suppose I am made of sugar?”

The butler permitted himself a small smile at this sally. “You will appreciate, my lord, that all your people are determined to carry on as if the mistress was still with us. She would have ordered as much.”

A pang smote Richard, but he suppressed it. His mother had ever been inclined to mollycoddle her only son. He had chafed at it, but now he realised he was going to miss her motherly concern.

“True enough. Thank Mrs Pennyfather for me, will you?”

The butler bowed and opened the library door. “If you are ready, my lord?”

There was no further need for delay, but Richard was conscious of reluctance to leave the house. A nagging image of a white face with a tell-tale trail of wet across its cheeks crept out of the corner where he had tried to banish it. He’d been harsh, and knew it for a kind of defence to enable him to keep his distance. But now that he must leave the child in Alicia’s hands for a space, his conscience pricked him. She’d had an unhappy time of it, and his sister was unsympathetic.

He paused in the hall where Fareham was waiting with his outdoor clothing. He allowed the valet to help him into the great-coat, but on impulse held up a hand when he was offered the hat.

“One moment.”

Crossing to the door to the little parlour, which he knew had been given over to Isolde’s use, he gave a gentle knock. There was no reply. Richard grasped the handle and opened the door. A glance about the room immediately revealed its occupant perched in the window seat, staring into the grey mist outside.

She must have heard him, for she turned her head and looked across at him with eyes drowned in misery.

His heart contracted. Without thought, he closed the door behind him and crossed the room in a few swift strides. He saw the startled look leap into her face as he caught her up, and then it was buried in the folds of his great-coat as he clasped her close against him, murmuring words that came out with no purpose other than to comfort.

“Hush now, hush, don’t weep! All will be well, I promise you.”

He heard a doleful sniff and released her, digging for a handkerchief. Finding one, he held it out.

“Here. Dry your eyes, Isolde.”

She took it, her breath shuddering a little, and brushed hastily at her wet cheeks. Her voice was husky when at last she managed to speak.

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