VIscount Besieged (14 page)

Isadora stared
at him in perplexity. She had forgotten his own recent bereavement.
‘Have you?’

His lips twisted
into that bitter curl. ‘My grief, ma’am, is all outward
show.’

Dismayed,
Isadora blinked at him. What oddity was this? How could he not
grieve for his father’s passing?

‘
I do
not understand you.’

The strangely
disquieting look did not leave his face. ‘How should you? You do
not know me, Isadora.’

‘
Well, that is scarcely my fault.’

Roborough
recollected himself. She was right. It was not her fault. None of
it. Banishing the emotions that had arisen despite his iron
control, he smiled again. Here was the very opening he
needed.

‘
The
matter is susceptible of remedy.’

‘
Is
it? In that case, you can tell me what you intend to do about us
all.’

‘
I
did not mean that.’

‘
Well, if you wish me to become better acquainted with you, it
would be a start.’

‘
Possibly an end too. But,’ he added quickly as she opened her
mouth to retort, ‘why not begin with a ride together this
evening?’

Isadora tossed
her head. ‘So that you can cozen me into showing you over the
estate, I suppose.’

‘
Not
at all,’ he responded instantly. ‘Thornbury will do
that.’

‘
Then
you need not ride with me.’

‘
For
pity’s sake, Isadora, all I want is some company! I am itching for
the exercise, and it is so tedious with only a groom behind. Come,
humour me this once. You may at least show me the best rides, and
if you do not enjoy it I promise I shall never tease you to ride
with me again.’

‘
Well, you need not talk as if I am utterly
churlish.’

‘
You
are not churlish, only contrary. Perhaps I should have done better
to forbid you in any circumstances to accompany me on a
ride.’

‘
Forbid me? You may try!’

He grinned. ‘I
thought so. Very well, then. Don’t you dare attempt to ride with me
this evening, Miss Alvescot. On pain of—of—’

‘
Of
what?’

‘
I
don’t know yet, but I shall think of something in good time, I
promise you.’

‘
I
should not wish to put you to such trouble,’ Isadora said sweetly.
‘So I shall obey you without question.’

He sighed. ‘I
see I cannot win. I shall have to settle for Fanny, I
suppose.’

‘
Fanny? Great heavens, no, she will drive you demented! She
does nothing but carp and refuse to take jumps. You had much better
ride with me.’

‘
But
what an excellent notion. I wish I had thought of it for myself. I
thank you, Isadora.’

Isadora burst
into a peal of laughter. ‘What an abominable man you are,
Roborough.’

‘
So
you have several times informed me,’ he agreed, smiling. ‘Shall we
say four o’clock?’

But by the time
four o’clock came Isadora had found ample time to remember that the
viscount was her enemy who meant to sell her home. Moreover, he had
interrupted that embarrassing scene with Edmund and she, fool that
she was, instead of seizing the opportunity to find out whether he
meant to marry her off, had let him trick her into this agreement
to ride.

She was sorely
tempted to cry off, she thought, as she hooked the habit at the
bodice over her cotton chemise, particularly as he had thwarted her
plan to pump Syderstone for information by taking the man off with
him when he had gone to meet Thornbury. Crossing to the mirror, she
set her beaver at a rakish angle on her dark curls, which she chose
to wear loose for comfort under the hat.

On the other
hand, he had rescued her from Edmund very neatly. He had understood
her distress too, and helped her—without sentimentality, which she
would have hated—with that strangely comforting current of warmth.
It would be a pleasant change to ride again with a companion,
rather than only Totteridge.

Nevertheless,
she greeted him with some reserve as she mounted, with Totteridge’s
help, upon Juliet’s back. The groom, about to swing up on to one of
the hacks, was forestalled by Roborough, waiting in the saddle on
Titian.

‘
You
need not accompany us, Totteridge. Miss Alvescot will be safe
enough with me.’

‘
Aye,
my lord,’ agreed the groom, although he cast a doubtful glance at
his mistress.

Isadora,
unaccountably finding her reserve melting away, wondered what this
betokened. Her frowning glance went from Totteridge to the
viscount, and she noted that he, like herself, had dispensed with
mourning to ride. Green suited him, she found herself thinking as
her gaze dwelled on his coat, and his waistcoat where the colour
was repeated in a lighter hue.

She gave herself
a mental shake. What was she doing
,
thinking of Roborough’s
attractions? What did he want with her, in any event? To be sure,
she did not need an escort other than he; not even for the sake of
propriety, for they were cousins and he was in some sort her
guardian. But deliberately to seek privacy with her? That was odd
indeed.

Intrigued, she
led the way to the gate at the back which one of the stable-lads
was already running to open. Once through, she trotted towards the
border of the estate, heading for the bridle-path.

‘
This
is my usual route,’ she called.

‘
I am
in your hands,’ Roborough responded. ‘Shall we get a
gallop?’

‘
Beyond the bridle-path, if you wish for one.’

‘
More
than anything.’

That meant that they must bypass the bridle-path and
take to the open lands on the other side. They would come up again
at its further end, taking a circuit around the small forest
through which the path ran.

It was
exhilarating to ride unchecked, to sail over ditch and fallen log,
to fly with the mare, pounding neck and neck against the
stallion—Roborough had to be holding him in to stay with her, for
he had by far the stronger horse. To know, too, that the person
with her rode from enjoyment and not from duty. She felt that. The
viscount’s presence at such a time came close to the sensations she
had experienced riding with Papa. The man had been right. There was
a deal to be said for companionship.

At length he
called out—just like Papa—that he must give Titian his head for a
space. Then the chestnut stallion streaked ahead, hooves rattling
across the open ground. Isadora reined Juliet in a little, watching
with unconsciously admiring eyes the figure upon the horse’s back.
He rode well, she had to give him that.

When she saw him
slowing, she flicked the mare’s side and caught up at a canter.
Roborough’s light eyes were shining as he turned to greet
her.

‘
How
much I have longed for that!’ He patted the stallion’s neck. ‘This
is a splendid fellow.’

‘
He
is, isn’t he?’ agreed Isadora enthusiastically. ‘Have you such a
horse?’

‘
Oh
yes. He is a black, though. I call him Othello.’

‘
But
of course,’ cried Isadora, laughing as he grinned provocatively at
her. ‘So expert on the works of Shakespeare as you are.’

‘
I am
sure I cannot compete with you,’ he protested as their horses fell
in beside each other again. ‘Tell me, though, what other roles have
you perfected?’

Isadora slid a
look at him. ‘I was under the impression that you did not think I
had perfected my Juliet.’

‘
I am
never going to be permitted to forget that, am I?’

‘
Well, you meant it.’

‘
I
also meant it when I said that you were an excellent actress. That,
however, does not appear to mitigate my criticism.’

‘
No,’
agreed Isadora, ‘it does not.’

‘
Alas! Forever doomed for one unthinking remark.’

‘
But
it was not unthinking,’ protested Isadora.

‘
Is
that what rankles?’

‘
What
rankles, sir, is that you were not asked for your opinion. I did
not even know who you were. Furthermore, I had been rehearsing, not
performing for an audience.’

‘
Yes,
that is fair comment. On the other hand, had you been aware of my
presence, you might not have performed so unselfconsciously—nor so
charmingly.’

Amazed, Isadora
gazed at him. ‘It is apparent that you know little of
acting.’

‘
Tell
me about it, then,’ he invited, with the utmost cordiality. ‘I am
very willing to be enlightened.’

Isadora was
silent for a moment or two. No one besides Papa had ever shown any
real interest in the workings of her craft. Even he, she believed,
had only listened to indulge her when she talked excitedly of this
or that problem. Was Roborough truly interested? Or was this
another of his ploys?

Somehow, it did
not matter. The urge to talk about her acting was overwhelming.
‘You may regret having asked me.’

‘
Possibly.’ There was the faintest of laughs in his voice. ‘But
we shall never know unless you try me.’

‘
Well,’ Isadora began dubiously, ‘I do not always understand it
myself. It is as if—when I am acting, you understand—I become
another person. I am no longer Isadora Alvescot. At least, only a
little of me remains. I feel with another’s feelings. I think with
another’s thoughts. And I am no longer here, but in some imaginary
place where I see only the people concerned with that other self.
It does not seem to matter who it is—Juliet or Lady Jane Grey, or
even,’ she revealed with a laughing glance across at him, ‘Lady
Macbeth. For the time, I live them—as if they live in
me.’

She stopped and
her eyes searched his face. ‘Can you understand me at
all?’

Roborough’s eyes
had never left her countenance while she spoke. There was such
animation in her features, such a glow in her voice. There could be
no doubt of her intense involvement in this favourite pastime.
Talking like this, she was positively captivating. A creature of
many moods, this girl.

‘
I
don’t know if I understand how it should be so,’ he answered. ‘But
I have heard that Garrick felt the same. Perhaps all great actors
do.’

Isadora stared
at him, unaware that she had brought her mare to a halt, nor that
he had followed suit. Great? Was it possible that he believed she
had a claim to that word? No, it could not be. But if it was so…
Dared she confide in him? Tell him what she planned?

‘
But
what have I said?’ he asked, half-laughing.

‘
Garrick was a gentleman, was he not?’ Isadora found herself
saying.

‘
I
believe so. What of it?’

What of it, indeed! A man might do what a female
dared
not attempt. Involuntarily, she burst out, ‘I wish I were a
man!’

Roborough broke
into laughter. ‘What next will you say? Let me tell you, Isadora,
as a female, you are refreshing, to say the least. I cannot think
that you would do any better as a man.’

‘
Yes,
I should,’ she said crossly, thoroughly put out by his unwarranted
amusement, ‘because I should be able to call you out.’

‘
You
would not need to, for if you were a man I should not be here in
the first place.’ He frowned suddenly. ‘Or is that what you
meant?’

‘
I
meant nothing of the sort, as it happens,’ she snapped. ‘But, now
that you come to mention it, I should certainly have preferred it.
At least I would have told me what I intended to do.’

He could not
control his laughter, although he was aware that Isadora was
incensed by it. Really, she was a most unpredictable
female.

‘
I
cannot imagine what you find so funny,’ she told him resentfully.
‘Either you laugh at me, and say the most infuriatingly teasing
things, or else you turn aside my questions as if they are of no
account. You are hateful
,
Roborough.’

His eyes still
alight with laughter, he glanced round at her, doffing his hat
ironically. ‘I thank you. And what am I to say of you, Isadora? You
storm and rail at me, and persist in saddling me with various
motivations of which I am quite unaware. And, if I am not very much
mistaken, you are determined to thwart me whatever I decide to do.
Therefore it is in my best interests to keep my mouth very firmly
shut.’

Then, very
unfairly, he urged Titian onward, speeding rapidly to a canter so
that Isadora was unable to continue the conversation. It was with
some satisfaction that she caught him up, for she was able to take
him immediately at fault.

‘
You
are going the wrong way, ’she called. ‘We must turn for the forest
here.’

With which, she
wheeled her own mount and sped away, obliging Roborough to chase
her at the gallop. But the trees soon thickened, and they had to
slow down, picking their way through to the bridle-path. A short
trot along this and Isadora brought them out on to the estate, with
the squat shape of the unsightly Alvescot house nestling in the
valley below.