Her Grace in Disgrace (The Widows of Woburn Place) Read Online Free Page A

by nurses and nannies and governesses. She had longed
for her parents’ approval. No, that was not quite true. By the time she was
twelve, she had dismissed her father as an officious bore. And she had long
since given up on ever getting her mother’s approval. Now that had passed on,
she gave the matter little thought.
    “You
know that is not true. I have never been anyone’s pawn,” Isobel confessed then took
a breath. “You went away. You left me to their machinations. I saw no reason
not to give in to their ceaseless harangues.”
    Saybrooke
looked at her with surprise. “I asked you to marry me and you turned me down.”
    “You
asked me to run away with you. I did not want that kind of life.”
    “Life
with a poor second son, a country vicar,” Saybrooke said with sadness.
    “You
were never poor, Drew. Your great aunt left you a tidy competence,” Isobel said
with a little laugh.
    “But,
nothing as grand as a duke; and I was a vicar.”
    “Not
yet, you were not, but you know that did not matter to me.  I had hoped that you
would fight for me, so we could marry properly.”
    Saybrooke
stood, placing his plate on the tea tray and walked to the window overlooking
the back garden. The room was quiet, except for the gentle snuffling of Lady
Whitcomb. Even the noises of the bustling streets of London could not be heard.
Nonetheless, the large room was filled with the echoes of unsaid words and the
ghosts of lost dreams. Isobel felt tears sting her eyes, but she fought them,
forbidding them to fall.
    “Oh,
but I did. Your father rebuffed me more than once. He was determined you would
marry well and pull him out of the River Tick. But, I refused to give up. Until
the day after you turned me down. However, even then I did not admit defeat
gracefully. I went to your father and told him what I thought of his using a
mere slip of a girl to recoup his losses. How disgusted I was that he could
sell his only daughter to the highest bidder.”
     “I
never knew.” Isobel voice was barely above a whisper. “Why did you not tell me?”
    Saybrooke
turned to her, his eyes full of sadness. He walked a few steps toward her, and
then stopped abruptly, pushing his hand through his thick brown hair.
    “I
was twenty two years old, full of pride and anger and pain. I did not know what
to do.”
    Isobel
sat, her back rigid, her hands clutching each other. “So, you left without a
word.”
    “Just
a few days after I railed at your father, I got the offer of a living in
Surrey. A living offered by your father’s cousin, it so happened. I took it.”
    “And
I had the offer of a season in London and I took that. And here we are.”
Isobel’s eyes were once again shuttered, the passion of the old Isobel put
away. Saybrooke knew that this was her unspoken hint that they were done with
this topic.
    “Why
Warwick? Who chose Warwick?” Saybrooke ignored the hint.
    Isobel
‘s full mouth was drawn into a thin line, a sign of her disapproval. “How on
earth could that matter now?”
    “I
confess to being curious. He was titled and rich, but certainly there were
other titled and rich men who at least had a shred of intelligence and would
have suited you better.”
    “Indeed,
there were. I did not want one that suited. I wanted one that would leave me be
once we were married. Warwick, though he was not as yet Warwick, was my choice.”
Isobel‘s troubled eyes belied her light tone.
    Saybrooke
knew he should let that information be enough. But, it was not. He knew he
should say no more, pry no further, but he could not help himself. “And whose
idea was it to ruin Miss Downing, so that you could have your unsuitable
husband?”  
    Saybrooke
expected an angry reply, but was surprised by Isobel’s weary tone. “What is the
point of all of this, Drew? I am tired. It has been a frightful day.”
    Still,
Saybrooke would not yield. “Whose?”
    Isobel
sighed heavily and spoke with a bone aching weariness. “Mother’s. I