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

had
befriended Laura, so it was easily done.”
    “I
see,” Saybrooke said as if satisfied. But, there was still one question he must
have answered. “And whose idea was it to lure Reginald Aiken, Lord Crewe at that
time, to the Cheltenham’s library the night of their daughter’s come out ball
in order to catch you in a compromising situation? Who hatched the scheme to
trap the poor bastard into marrying you?”
    All
the languor left Isobel and her eyes once again crackled with fury. She stood
to face him and though her head reached only to his chin, she stared up at him,
her fiery eyes almost able to set him ablaze. “I did! It was my idea. He would
not come up to scratch and I was tired of my mother’s bullying. So, I did it.
Are you satisfied? Are you?” Isobel did not raise her voice, but she sounded
fearsome nonetheless.
    Why
Saybrooke could not leave well enough alone, he himself wondered but mere
seconds later. But, his mouth continued on heedlessly. They continued to stand
mere inches away, her face turned up to his defiantly. His next words were
softly spoken, “Was it worth it, Izzy? All the scheming? All the double
dealing? Did it make you happy? Are you happy now?”
    Isobel’s
features froze and she took one step back, her chin jutting out in defiance and
her whole body shaking with anger. Just as Isobel was about to ring a peal over
Lord Saybrooke, Lady Whitcomb sputtered awake.
    “My
goodness, I must have fallen asleep. I do apologize,” said Lady Whitcomb
looking sleepily from Isobel to Saybrooke. Her eyes widened as she took in the
two combatting figures. But then, suddenly, Isobel smiled and turned to her
Aunt Maude. Four years as marchioness and two as a duchess had not been for
naught. Her words, when they finally came were well measured and even.
    “Aunt
Maude, I am so glad you had a little rest. Such a trying day. Lord Saybrooke
was just about to take his leave.” She turned her charming smile on Saybrooke.
“It was so kind of you to come and bring me comfort in my time of need. We
would not dream of detaining you any longer. I am sure you must have other
calls to make today. I will have Sloane show you out.”
    Saybrooke
took his cue, bowed toward Lady Whitcomb, then took Isobel’s hand lightly in
his own and kissed the air above it.
    “Lady
Whitcomb, a pleasure. Miss Kennilworth, your servant. I know my way out; no
need to ring for Sloane.”
    Saybrooke
walked to the door, turned back to the ladies and sketched a final bow, just as
a Wedgewood tea cup sailed over his head.

CHAPTER 3
     
    The
house on Woburn Place was a happy surprise. Though not nearly as impressive,
large or elegant as Wren House, it was a gracious stone house with its own
garden and mews. Isobel had been happy to learn that a coach and team had come
with the house. She hoped she could afford to keep them. The house, all in all,
was better than she had imagined. But no matter how pleasing the house may be,
it did not make up for what Reginald had done to her. She entered the house,
ready to do battle.
    Mrs.
Riggs, housekeeper of number 65 Woburn Place was all that was gracious. She
quickly offered to give Isobel and Lady Whitcomb the grand tour before their
trunks arrived with the disgruntled Manning and Lady Whitcomb’s abigail, Philpot.
Manning had not wanted to leave Wren House, but since the new Dowager Duchess
already had a lady’s maid and Manning did not relish being unemployed, she had accompanied
Isobel to Bloomsbury, acting as if she were moving to Moscow.
    Isobel
readily agreed to the tour. Lady Whitcomb, ever the egalitarian despite her
birth, got on well with Mrs. Riggs from the start. She and the housekeeper
babbled noisily as they walked, while Isobel took in her new home in virtual
silence.
    The
tour began, of course in the entrance hall, with its marble floor and rosewood
paneled walls. Adjacent to the ample, if not spacious entry, was a large,
well-appointed parlor painted a shade of butter yellow