VIscount Besieged (15 page)

Isadora reined
in, and gestured widely with her whip hand. ‘Behold your domain,
sir. And if you suppose you will find anyone with little enough
taste to purchase the ugliest house in England, then you must have
windmills in your head.’

Roborough was
not looking at the view. He was eyeing Isadora, his expression
grim. She had no difficulty in interpreting the look.

‘
Yes,’ she said defiantly. ‘I know what you intend. What is
more, I have told the family.’

‘
Have
you?’ he said flatly, his jaw set and hardness in his
eyes.

Isadora was
conscious of a flutter in her stomach. He was angry. It gave her a
curious sense of pleasurable satisfaction to know that she had
succeeded in moving him to something stronger than mere amusement.
Yet she could not help a slight feeling of apprehension.

She fought it
down.

‘
Yes,
I have.’ She might have added that she had gained nothing by
informing the family of his plan to sell, but she did not wish him
to know that.

‘
Are
you in the habit of distressing your family by giving them
unnecessary information?’ he asked bitingly.

‘
Am I
in the habit…?’ Isadora glared at him. ‘I am in the habit, sir, of
telling the truth
.
I do not prevaricate, and flatter, and
toady my way into favour so that anything I do may be found
acceptable, no matter how unpalatable it is.’

‘
You
are treading on dangerous ground, Miss Alvescot.’

‘
Oh,
indeed? Is that a threat, my lord? Will you banish me to my room?
Beat me, perhaps? Or merely rid yourself of a tiresome charge by
marrying me off to Edmund Witheridge?’

Roborough’s
expression altered abruptly. ‘Have you run mad, Isadora? If you
showed any disposition to marry that unfortunate boy, I would have
you placed under restraint!’

‘
What
?’ Isadora fought for breath. ‘You—you take it upon
yourself to—to dictate whom I may marry?’

His brows rose.
‘A moment ago you were accusing me of forcibly pushing you into
marriage. You don’t wish to marry the Witheridge boy, do
you?’

‘
Of
course I don’t wish to marry him, but—’

‘
Then
what are we arguing about?’

Isadora nearly
screamed. ‘The point is,’ she said, with careful restraint, ‘that
if I did wish to marry him you would have no right to
interfere.’

‘
Oh,
I wouldn’t do that.’

‘
Then
why did you say you would have me placed under
restraint?’

‘
A
mere figure of speech. Though I dare say it is what a careful
guardian ought to do. Really, Isadora, you should not be permitted
to roam at large. You are far too dangerous.’

Isadora found
herself torn between fury and an abrupt desire to laugh. ‘I am
n-not in the least dangerous.’

‘
You
are, at a conservative estimate, more dangerous than a tigress. No
wonder your poor family tremble in your presence. They must have
viewed my arrival in the light of a saviour.’

This was so very
close to the truth that Isadora’s quivering amusement was quenched.
Was it possible that she, who was so strongly partisan when it came
to the family’s best interests—as she had thought—had less
influence than this stranger? The viscount no longer felt a
stranger; that she accepted. But that he should be regarded as a
better judge than she of what must suit those she loved best was
galling in the extreme.

Unknowingly, she
had spurred Juliet on, heading towards home. Roborough
automatically followed suit, wondering what he had said to give her
so furiously to think. Her countenance gave her away so rapidly
that he was able to discern a trace of distress there. How had his
teasing words brought that about? To be sure, she had made him—for
a few hazardous moments—so blazingly angry that he had found it
hard to recover his usual self-control.

But upon
reflection he might have known she would find him out somehow.
Thornbury could not have betrayed him, he was persuaded. Which left
only one solution. Isadora, the little devil, had been listening at
the door.

Strange to say,
he found himself more amused by this than angry. It really was so
typical. She would not allow a little matter of delicacy to stand
in her way. Though how she had concocted this mad idea that he
planned to marry her off to that boy he could not
fathom.

Isadora,
however, had lost all interest in that particular question. The
matter of her family’s view of her superseded all else. Even
Harriet seemed to feel that Roborough’s capacity to assist them was
greater than her own.

Perhaps they
were correct, she thought dejectedly. She was the selfish one. Or
so they saw it. Putting spokes in their wheels when all looked to
be in a fair way to settling to their satisfaction. It did seem as
if the viscount intended to see all right. Perhaps she had not
given him enough credit.

Glancing
sideways at him, she found that his gaze was on her. She felt a
flutter in her pulse as he met her eyes, a hint of a question in
his.

But all he said,
and that in a normal voice, was, ‘Is there a way we may come at the
house from the front from here?’

‘
Well, we’re heading for the stables at the back. But if you
wish we can take a line around there and come up the
drive.’

She pointed as
she spoke, and Roborough nodded. ‘Yes, if you don’t object to
it.’

‘
Why
should I?’ she countered, and instantly regretted her tone. There
was no occasion to bite his head off. Softening her voice, she
added, ‘I have no objection at all.’

‘
Lead
on, then.’

As she urged
Juliet towards the side, Isadora asked, ‘Why do you wish
particularly to see the house from the front? I should think you
had already done so.’

‘
Yes,
but I don’t recall it being quite so hideous as it appeared from
the top of the hill.’

Isadora giggled.
‘It is hideous, isn’t it? Papa was used to think his grandfather
had been crazy to build it.’

‘
I
believe it was the fashion of the day. Now, when we are so
accustomed to Palladio’s designs, and those of his imitators, it
seems to us quite unattractive.’

‘
What
is your house like?’ Isadora asked with sudden interest.

‘
Oh,
very stately and Italianate,’ said Roborough, grinning. Then he
grimaced. ‘But for all its proportional beauty it lacks the
homeliness of this one. That, however, has little to do with the
house.’

‘
I
know what you mean. A home reflects the people who live there.’ She
laughed. ‘Ours shows how dreadfully untidy we all are.’

‘
But
it is
warm
,’ he said with an intensity that surprised her.
‘That, believe me, Isadora, counts for a great deal.’

That odd note of
bitterness had crept into his voice, and she glanced curiously at
him. She would have liked to probe into this recurring aspect of
Roborough’s life, but she did not feel confident of receiving
anything in reply—unless it be a comprehensive snub.

Before she could
decide whether to pursue the opportunity, however, she saw, as
they approached the driveway, that a carriage on its passage to the
house had slowed to meet them.

‘
There is your friend,’ she said, recognising Mr
Syderstone.

She thought the
viscount muttered something under his breath, but she did not catch
what it was. The good humour faded from his face, confirming her
earlier suspicions. This was no friend of his. Yet he behaved
pleasantly enough when the other man hailed them.

‘
So
there you are. What a wild-goose chase you have sent me on,
Roborough.’ He lifted his hat, smiling at Isadora as they brought
their horses up to flank the carriage. ‘Miss Alvescot, I protest I
have been monstrously ill-used.’

‘
How
is that, sir?’ asked Isadora, wondering a little at the faint look
of cynical amusement she spied on the viscount’s countenance. What
had he been about?

‘
This
perfidious friend of mine,’ said Syderstone, in a tone of
mock-indignation, ‘having invited me to sample the local ale, then
left me—with an excuse that would not have fooled a two-year-old—in
the company of cowherds and draymen in a noisome taproom, with the
scantiest instructions on finding my way home that anyone ever
heard.’

‘
But
you are here, nevertheless,’ put in the viscount mildly, ‘so they
must have been adequate.’

‘
I
have a very good mind to call you out, Roborough. They were not
adequate at all. I have been obliged to enquire the way at least a
dozen times.’

‘
But
you found your way here before,’ objected Isadora
reasonably.

‘
Ah,
but that was from the main thoroughfare, my dear Miss Alvescot, not
from somewhere in the middle of an unknown countryside.’

‘
Yes,
but Roborough does not know this country any better than
you.’

‘
But
he had your Mr Thornbury to aid him. I will not allow you to
mitigate his offence, ma’am, for I see clearly why I was subjected
to this unwarranted ordeal.’

Roborough
thought it was probably true that he did know why. For he must have
realised that his presence was unwelcome after their conversation
yesterday. But he was ready to wager Syderstone would not admit to
that.

Isadora was agog
to know why the viscount should be playing such a trick on this
man. It made it even clearer that he had not come here in
friendship.

‘
Well, why, then?’

Syderstone gave her the oddest look—positively
roguish
.
What in the world—?

‘
Because, Miss Alvescot, he wanted to steal a
march
on me. And I see that is precisely what he has
done.’

Mystified,
Isadora blinked at him. ‘Steal a march on you? What do you
mean?’

‘
Come, come, ma’am, you must not be so modest.’

‘
He
implies,’ explained the viscount drily, ‘that, having got rid of
him by these devious means, I managed to persuade you to ride with
me.’

Isadora looked
at him frowningly. ‘But what has that to do with Mr
Syderstone?’

‘
Miss
Alvescot, I protest,’ cried the other. ‘Can it be possible that you
prefer Roborough’s company to mine? I do not know whether I am more
jealous of him or that other young fellow.’

Isadora’s
perplexity was abruptly replaced with astonishment.

‘
You
cannot mean that you suppose Roborough—?’

She broke off,
realising to the full what was meant. Was she supposed to believe
that Syderstone wished to get up a flirtation with her?

‘
Fudge, sir,’ she scoffed. ‘And if by that other young fellow
you mean Edmund—’

‘
Is
that his name? I had supposed it to be something more romantic—such
as Romeo. He certainly looks the part.’

Had Isadora not
been so taken aback by this whole gambit, she might have laughed at
the idea of Edmund playing Romeo to her Juliet. A more absurd
notion she could not have invented. But that Syderstone chose to
imagine a rivalry to be got up between himself and the viscount for
her company she could barely comprehend. Unless—was it some ploy
to use against him?

Her glance went
from Syderstone to Roborough and back again. The viscount was
looking amused, which was hardly surprising. He was bound to find
it funny that he could be accused of seeking her company for
pleasure. Though it had, she recalled with an obscure sense of
satisfaction, been his request that she come with him.

‘
Never mind it, Syderstone,’ he said in a cheerful tone. ‘If
you feel cheated, you may make up for it tonight. I have affairs to
attend to and will be dining out, so you may monopolise Miss
Alvescot to your heart’s content.’

Oh, might he?
thought Isadora crossly. Did Roborough suppose he could arrange her
evening in this high-handed way? She barely heard Syderstone’s
declaration of satisfaction with this state of affairs, nor took
any notice of his making a play of deciding whether or not to
forgive Roborough. She was convinced, in any event, that all this
was part of some scheme he had on hand.

She would deal
with that later. For now, she was interested only in dealing with
the viscount.

She could only
be thankful when Syderstone finally drove on towards the house. As
the two horses moved off, she addressed herself wrathfully to
Roborough.

‘
What
do you mean by telling him that he may monopolise me? You must know
very well that it is all nonsense.’

‘
Undoubtedly.’

‘
Then
why did you not say so?’

‘
Because it suits me to have him think me complaisant in this
particular matter.’

‘
Does
it, indeed? And my feelings do not enter into it, I
suppose?’

‘
On
the contrary, I hope you will use them to the full.’