am afraid that would not be true,” the Duke replied, “for the simple reason that I have been busy.”
“Too busy to think of me?”
Again she did not wait for him to answer, but said excitedly:
“Oh, Ivar, now that I am here, there are so many things for us to do together! Although I wanted to dine alone with you tonight, I think we will have to go to Carlton House.”
The Duke smiled.
“I have just come from the Prince Regent and he has made my attendance at dinner a Royal Command.”
Isobel laughed.
“I thought he would do so. I dined with him last night and told him as a dead secret how much we mean to each other.”
The Duke stiffened.
“I think that was a mistake.”
“Why?” Isobel asked. “Everybody I have met has spoken to me of their delight that you are now the Duke, and of the wonders of your Castle.”
She looked round the room and said:
“And this house is perfect for what we want in London. I have already seen the big Salon upstairs, and we can have at least one hundred and fifty people at our parties without it being a squeeze.”
The Duke frowned.
“I can hardly believe that you inspected my house, Isobel, when I was not here to show it to you.”
“Darling, do not be so stuffy!” she replied. “I wanted to be quite certain that we should be happy here, although of course we would be happy anywhere. At the same time, I must have the right background in order to play the perfect hostess.”
The Duke was silent for a moment while he sought for words to inform Isobel that he had no intention of marrying anyone at the moment.
But the door opened and Gerald came in.
“I thought I should have to apologise for having kept you waiting,” he said, “but Bateson tells me you have only just returned.”
“That is true,” the Duke replied.
Gerald crossed the room to raise Isobel’s hands to his lips, saying:
“I thought I might find you here.”
“I have been waiting for Ivar for over an hour,” Isobel replied, “but as I have just said, I have not wasted my time.”
“What have you been doing?” Gerald asked, as she obviously expected him to.
“I have been finding out that the house is perfect for us to entertain in, and I can see myself so clearly receiving our guests at the top of that very attractive staircase.”
Gerald saw the Duke’s lips tighten, and he said:
“You are taking your fences too fast, Isobel. I was informed only a few hours ago that as Ivar has much to do, he has no intention of marrying for years.”
The Duke thought with an irrepressible smile that Gerald, ever since he became his friend, had always been prepared to come to his rescue in a tight corner.
“That is true,” he agreed. “It will certainly be years before the Castle and the Estate are put to right and things are restored to what they were in the past.”
There was silence, and Isobel looked from one man to the other.
“What is all this?” she asked.
Her voice now sounded a very different note, and she went on:
“Is this a conspiracy between you two?”
“Not in the least,” Gerald replied, “but it is always wise, my dear Isobel, to face facts, and the fact is that Ivar, for the moment, is not in the marriage-market.”
“That is nothing to do with you!” she said angrily. “I presume Ivar can speak for himself.”
Then, as if she thought this attitude was unwise, she rose from the sofa, went to the Duke, and slipped her hand in his.
“We will talk about it when we are alone,” she said very softly.
The Duke, as was expected of him, raised her hand to his lips.
“We will meet tonight at Carlton House.”
“I am sure you will be kind enough to take me home afterwards,” Isobel said in a child-like voice which she used when she was at her most dangerous. “Papa hates his horses and his coachmen being kept out late.”
The Duke could not think of a reasonable way he could refuse, and she flashed a smile at Gerald but her eyes as she looked at him were
“Too busy to think of me?”
Again she did not wait for him to answer, but said excitedly:
“Oh, Ivar, now that I am here, there are so many things for us to do together! Although I wanted to dine alone with you tonight, I think we will have to go to Carlton House.”
The Duke smiled.
“I have just come from the Prince Regent and he has made my attendance at dinner a Royal Command.”
Isobel laughed.
“I thought he would do so. I dined with him last night and told him as a dead secret how much we mean to each other.”
The Duke stiffened.
“I think that was a mistake.”
“Why?” Isobel asked. “Everybody I have met has spoken to me of their delight that you are now the Duke, and of the wonders of your Castle.”
She looked round the room and said:
“And this house is perfect for what we want in London. I have already seen the big Salon upstairs, and we can have at least one hundred and fifty people at our parties without it being a squeeze.”
The Duke frowned.
“I can hardly believe that you inspected my house, Isobel, when I was not here to show it to you.”
“Darling, do not be so stuffy!” she replied. “I wanted to be quite certain that we should be happy here, although of course we would be happy anywhere. At the same time, I must have the right background in order to play the perfect hostess.”
The Duke was silent for a moment while he sought for words to inform Isobel that he had no intention of marrying anyone at the moment.
But the door opened and Gerald came in.
“I thought I should have to apologise for having kept you waiting,” he said, “but Bateson tells me you have only just returned.”
“That is true,” the Duke replied.
Gerald crossed the room to raise Isobel’s hands to his lips, saying:
“I thought I might find you here.”
“I have been waiting for Ivar for over an hour,” Isobel replied, “but as I have just said, I have not wasted my time.”
“What have you been doing?” Gerald asked, as she obviously expected him to.
“I have been finding out that the house is perfect for us to entertain in, and I can see myself so clearly receiving our guests at the top of that very attractive staircase.”
Gerald saw the Duke’s lips tighten, and he said:
“You are taking your fences too fast, Isobel. I was informed only a few hours ago that as Ivar has much to do, he has no intention of marrying for years.”
The Duke thought with an irrepressible smile that Gerald, ever since he became his friend, had always been prepared to come to his rescue in a tight corner.
“That is true,” he agreed. “It will certainly be years before the Castle and the Estate are put to right and things are restored to what they were in the past.”
There was silence, and Isobel looked from one man to the other.
“What is all this?” she asked.
Her voice now sounded a very different note, and she went on:
“Is this a conspiracy between you two?”
“Not in the least,” Gerald replied, “but it is always wise, my dear Isobel, to face facts, and the fact is that Ivar, for the moment, is not in the marriage-market.”
“That is nothing to do with you!” she said angrily. “I presume Ivar can speak for himself.”
Then, as if she thought this attitude was unwise, she rose from the sofa, went to the Duke, and slipped her hand in his.
“We will talk about it when we are alone,” she said very softly.
The Duke, as was expected of him, raised her hand to his lips.
“We will meet tonight at Carlton House.”
“I am sure you will be kind enough to take me home afterwards,” Isobel said in a child-like voice which she used when she was at her most dangerous. “Papa hates his horses and his coachmen being kept out late.”
The Duke could not think of a reasonable way he could refuse, and she flashed a smile at Gerald but her eyes as she looked at him were
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