“To what?”
“Allow you to leave, Miss Gresham.” His sagging mouth related his chagrin. “Forgive me, please. His lordship has requested it. Just until you are well, of course.”
Discouragement drooped her shoulders. She might have known he would do this. The longer she waited, the more chances William would be gone from the village. Or had he stopped there at all? Had he kept riding, already far enough away that she would never find him?
She would not think that way. She could not.
“What a magnificent surprise.” Lord Livingstone strode into the foyer, complete in his tailored riding clothes. “May I inquire after your health this morning, Miss Gresham?”
“No.” She started past him. “You may not.”
He followed her from the foyer, matching her steps. “I fear I have done something which may have caused you distress.”
“Do not think I am unwise to what you have done.”
“What I have done?”
“Were you so determined to send William away, my lord?” She paused and stared at him, though if her effrontery embarrassed him, he showed no sign. “You must be madly in love with me indeed to make yourself such a fool.”
“I am hardly the fool in this situation.” His tone deepened. Eyes flashed. “I have known from the day I arrived you were embroiled in a ghastly affair with the man. I take no shame in admitting I informed your father, night before last, that his daughter had just slipped to the stables in the dark.”
Heat pervaded her face. “How could you?”
“Quite easily and without remorse, I admit.”
“You are disgusting.”
“I would not say such things.”
“You have degraded William and you have insulted me. You have inserted yourself in a situation that was none of your concern—and all for naught, I fear, as you are the last man in the world I could ever be convinced to marry.”
His chin bunched. “You will not always say such things.”
“I shall say that and more if you do not leave me alone.” Gathering her riding skirt in her fists, she escaped his presence. Why was she shaking? Why did the man always drain her courage?
And why did his words always seem in likeness to a threat?
“Oh no. I cannot. Please, Miss Gresham, do not ask such a thing of me.”
Isabella pulled Bridget to the edge of the bed, where she clasped the girl’s frigid hands in her own. Darkness had already fallen, and a strange eeriness swept through the bedchamber as silent as the breeze from the window. “All my life I have been asking things of you. Menial tasks of little importance. And every time you have assisted me with such love and favor I could never ask for more.”
Her maid’s eyes swam in the candlelight.
“Dear Bridget, you cannot fail me now. Please do not abandon me too.”
“I should never abandon you.” A sniffle. “But to disobey his lordship—”
“It would hardly be a disobedience. He did not order you to remain within the house; he ordered me.” Isabella reached for the sealed letter on the stand. She folded it as small as she could then placed it in Bridget’s palm. “Go to all the inns within the village. If he is not there, inquire at the taverns too. They may let rooms.”
“Miss Gresham—”
“And take Isaac with you. He shall drive the gig, and I am certain he is fond enough of William to say nothing to anyone else.”
“But suppose someone should see.” Bridget wiped her eyes. “Before I depart the gates. Suppose his lordship should find out.”
“If he does, I shall bear his wrath alone. You need not worry. Father would not be so cruel as to punish you for what I have ordered.” Isabella pulled her maid close and kissed her cheek. “Dear, wonderful Bridget. Please be brave. It is only but a letter. You will be courageous, won’t you?”
“Yes.” The girl smiled, though it quivered, as she stood and rubbed her nose. She glanced at the letter folded in her hands. “Miss Gresham?”
