Chapter Four
On one hand, this had been the longest day Miss Isobel Storme had passed in quite a while; on the other, the hours had been filled with shocks and excitement.
After a rather stilted dinner—everyone had the tendency to either lose themselves in their own thoughts, talk about desultory things like the weather or how delectable the pudding was, while some had even appeared late, like her cousin Finn and his wife—the family had gathered in the drawing room once more. That was fine with her, for she enjoyed the cheerful room decorated in varying shades of blue with its numerous oil paintings of landscapes and buildings as well as an impressive collection of Louis XVI furniture.
She made certain she occupied a chair that gave her the best views of the company at large, where she watched the odd collection of people—mostly her family—and she wondered what happened to tear the Stormes apart. That break had occurred long ago in the past, possibly when she was still a young girl, for she’d heard nothing of a feud between her father or uncle. But then, she’d been very much overlooked. Everyone in her family was older and no doubt thought she couldn’t offer a new perspective to the issues.
Well, I’m a woman grown now, and I want everything out in the open.
Currently, Andrew and Finn were arguing about which game to play this evening: charades or Blind Man’s Bluff. Both would exclude Finn in various ways and give the advantage to the other players, but they seemed to enjoy the argument as much as they might the games themselves, so she continued to watch them. The fact that Finn was seemingly so well-adjusted about his circumstances gave her hope for the future. Had William had the chance to talk with him yet? Her brother was temporarily missing from the room, said he needed to stop by his bedchamber to grab his reading spectacles in preparation for amusing himself that evening with a good book.
My cousins.Men she hadn’t seen since she was a young girl of eight, right here on this estate. The memories of that time were cloudy at best, for the whole of her attention had been on the horses in the stables and the collection of pretty stones and pebbles she’d gathered from the various ponds around the acreage. Now, they were all strangers, and they would essentially need to begin those friendships again… if that were possible. But Andrew and Finn acted happy and content, and they were both married to boot.
That had surprised her. After all the talk from her father regarding her cousins as well as their father, she’d grown up assuming they were horrible individuals who hadn’t hearts. The reality was directly opposite of those long-ago damning words. Which led her to question what the truth was, and what had been lies. And why had her parents felt the need to dissemble to their children in the first place? As she shifted her gaze to the flames behind the grate, she sighed. What would life have been like if she’d had access to her cousins all along?
“You look a thousand miles away this evening, Isobel.”
The soft sound of her mother’s voice yanked her from the wandering musings. Isobel looked at her parent, who’d taken a position on a low sofa. A knitted blanket in shades of gray lay tucked about her lap and legs while a velvet turban of dark green hid the bulk of her upswept hair. It was her mother’s one vanity, for she’d long lamented about her thinning, dull hair and besides, the turban kept her head warm during the winter months.
“I’m merely thinking about this new development in all our lives. It has the potential to change… everything.”
“That’s understandable.” Grief settled in her eyes. “I’ve long hoped for this moment, though I’m saddened it took so long to come to fruition.”
“We’ve lost so much time.” Isobel flicked her attention to her cousins, who’d apparently abandoned talk of games and now were mired in a heated discussion about the state of literature. Though Andrew stood at the hearth, one fist leaning on the high mantel, Finn sat beside his wife on a sofa. His Bath chair waited nearby, and the fact he’d so easily transferred himself from one to the other boggled her mind. No, he wasn’t the monster her father had hinted at; he’d been injured by men who were more like that moniker. “I hope this house party does indeed repair the rift,” she said in a low voice, not wishing to disturb their lively discussion. “I have missed seeing my cousins.”
Isobel’s heart fluttered to witness both Andrew and Finn talk softly to their wives. There was such adoration in their eyes, in the way they interacted, that a stab of swift jealousy went through her. She desperately wanted that family connection, for her own siblings were broken and scattered. William was hotheaded with no patience and his life remained committed to Bow Street, while Caroline had been sent away for not being… right in the head.
Yet no one had deigned to tell her—Isobel—what exactly her sister suffered from. She’d barely gotten to know Caroline. It had left her quite alone since Father had died. He’d doted on her, which had infuriated Caroline before she was sent away. Mother tried, but William had always been her favorite, and she was delicate besides. She suspected her mother suffered from a disease of the lungs and wouldn’t remain in this world too much longer.
“Truth be told, I’m anxious to learn all that I can about the boys. They’re much different from the children I used to know.” It was even more urgent that she bond with her re-found family, for once her mother died, there’d be no one left for her.
I can’t be alone. It’s terrifying to contemplate.Though she often liked throwing off the shackles of polite society and convention, there’d always been someone at home to forgive her and tell her she was loved.
“I imagine that’s what Andrew wished as well and why he had this house party come about.” A soft series of coughing interrupted her mother’s words. When she wiped her lips with a lace-edged handkerchief, a trace of blood came away on the fabric. “Please do all that you can to help make this a success, Isobel. You need your family.”
“I know.” Masculine laughter across the room turned her attention to Lady Jane’s red-haired brothers. The younger one who was missing his left arm was a bit of a clown, for he was forever telling jokes and ribald stories that would have ladies of breeding blushing, but somehow, his joviality was needed among this crowd. “What do you think of Doctor Marsden? Have you heard anything of him?”
“Only that he’s a surgeon of some acclaim in London,” her mother was quick to answer as she too glanced his way. “Phineas speaks highly of him, for the man has treated him since your cousin came back to London after convalescent hospitals in England had given him up.”
“Ah.” He was handsome in a devil-may-care sort of way, and he carried himself with pride and confidence. Though he wasn’t as broad shouldered or solidly built as Andrew or William, his form was no less impressive, and his hands were elegant—definitely a surgeon.
“His father is the Earl of Worchester, and since he’s the oldest son, eventually the title will pass to him,” her mother continued. “Does he catch your eye?”
“Hardly.” She fought off the blush warming her cheeks. “I’m not looking for a husband, Mama. Life is strictly for chasing entertainment and scandal, not finding oneself domesticated and bound for drudgery.” But she didn’t look away from him. When he laughed at something his brother said, her pulse increased. Was he actively courting a lady in London? Had he a wish for marriage, or would he merely like a bit of one-off fun?
“Oh, Isobel, why must you forever act so contrary? I’d like to see at least one of my children marry before I quit this life.” Frustration and disappointment threaded through her mother’s voice, which tightened Isobel’s chest.
It’s forever my lot to disappoint my parents, yet when they’ve done the same to me, I have no choice but to accept it.
“Marriage is forever, and perhaps I’m not that sort of woman.” She continued to stare at Doctor Marsden. He was too rigid, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself while on holiday. What did he do with his time outside of his healing capacity? The answer remained elusive, but at least he had siblings he got on well with. In that regard, he had a better life than she. When he glanced her way and met her gaze, amusement sparkled in his blue eyes, and her heart gave a stupid little flutter. Oh, dear. Isobel promptly ignored the reaction. She enjoyed her freedom too much to fall victim to courtship. Most men didn’t tolerate her wild streak… beyond the bounds of flirting or kissing.
Now, if the good doctor wanted to chase scandal and cause a sensation, she might summon the will to dally with him while at the house party.
There was no more opportunity for conversation, for William pelted into the room, his eyes wide with wonder and curiosity, his dark hair stuck up in places as if he’d shoved his fingers through it.
“William, is something amiss?” Isobel asked.
All laughter and soft conversation immediate hushed as all eyes went to her brother.