“There are two of them?” James’s mouth fell open. So did Gwen’s. “What are they doing here? ”
“I invited them here,” Isabel replied, moving past the group toward the stairs.
“Why?” James’s question echoed the curiosity of the older inhabitants of the hallway.
She turned back. “Well, one of them is very clever, with a talent for Greek statues. I thought we could use him.”
“I see,” James said with a nod that indicated an understanding Isabel felt certain he did not have. “So they are not here to take you.”
“Goodness! No!” She looked in the direction of the stairs. Lord Nicholas could wait another minute. “No one is going to take me anywhere.”
“You do not need me to step in?”
Isabel had to swallow a smile at the seriousness in his tone. “No. I am quite safe.”
“And the others?”
Isabel blinked at James’s concern. “No one needs rescuing, love. Not today.”
“But we are very happy to have you to protect us,” Gwen said with a smile. “You are an excellent protector.”
“Indeed,” Jane agreed readily. “We are lucky to live with you, my lord.”
James’s chest puffed out and Isabel almost laughed at the boy’s pride. Almost. But the imposing lord in her sitting room did put a damper on the moment. “And now, I must go and convince the man at the door that, while it might appear at first blush as though it were so, we are not in a state of bedlam.”
“Excellent plan,” Lara said with a grin.
“Yes, I thought so.” Isabel set off for the stairs before she stopped and turned back to the group. “Georgiana,” she said, referencing the newest resident of the manor. “Where is she?”
“In the library. She will not be seen.” Jane had, indeed, considered everything.
Isabel gave a little nod. “Excellent. I shall go see to our visitor.”
“Did someone let him in? After James slammed the door in his face, that is? “ Gwen asked.
Isabel paled. “Oh, no.” She looked from one face to the next, her mouth open in shock. “Oh, no!”
She was off, tearing down the stairs, ignoring the dull ache in her ankle.
Dear God. He was going to be livid.
If he was even there.
He had to be there. He was her only hope.
“She called him dashing,” Lara offered in a too-loud whisper as they clattered down the stairs.
“I did not.”
“Did she, now? “ Jane asked.
“I was referring to dashing men in the broader sense.”
“Well, that would be the case,” Jane said dryly, “Considering the legions of dashing men who come along daily out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Lara laughed. Isabel considered pushing them all down the next flight of stairs.
“It is too bad that all hope for lesson number one is out the window,” Gwen said wistfully.
Isabel turned back as she hit the ground floor. “What does that mean? ”
Gwen shook her head. “Nothing really, simply that the latest issue of Pearls and Pelisses had suggestions for just this situation—”
Jane snorted her disbelief.
“Stop.” Isabel raised a hand. “I haven’t time for this, Gwen.”
“But it says—”
“No. I must somehow repair the damage that I have done and get Lord Nicholas to have a look at those marbles.”
Isabel turned to the door, and Regina, one of the footmen, reached for the handle. With a deep breath, Isabel said, flustered, “Is he still there? Go ahead. Open it.” Then: “Wait.” She turned back to Gwen. “On second thought, I need as much help as I can get at this point. What is this ridiculous lesson?”
Gwen recited from memory, “Lesson Number One: Do not attempt to make too strong of a first impression.”
Isabel paused, considering the advice, and her first meeting with Lord Nicholas. And her second meeting with Lord Nicholas. “Well. I have certainly made a hash of that one.”
As the door began to open, she shooed them all away.
“Hide.”
Five
The last time Nick had been kept waiting by a female, he had ended up in a Turkish prison. He doubted he was in for a similar fate in Yorkshire, but nevertheless, he would prefer not to be kept waiting.
Outside.
For a madwoman.
No matter how lovely.
The groom had disappeared, along with the horses, and Nick and Rock had been left, summarily, on the doorstep of the manor house for far longer than was acceptable. Not that Nick had any lingering expectations of propriety at Townsend Park. Apparently, while the earl had been causing any number of scandals in London, his family had been left to rusticate in the country. Quite possibly in the care of wolves.
Ultimately, the pair had thrown manners to the wind and seated themselves on the wide stone steps, waiting for someone to come and fetch them.
And, as Nick fumed, Rock became more and more entertained.
“I retract my earlier statements on Yorkshire,” the Turk said, leaning casually against the stone balustrade, twirling a piece of grass in his hand. “It has taken a turn for the better, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps you would like to live here, then? In a parish full of oddities? ”
Rock laughed at Nick’s surly tone. “Unfortunately, Yorkshire seems to have robbed you of your good humor.”
“Yes, well, sitting outside for half an age waiting for a woman who has, quite likely, dreamed up her fantastic collection of antiquities, does not help. I’ve a mind to leave.”