The Complicated Earl Read online

  The party sat around the circular table. James sat down next to Lady Sophie, with Mary on his other side. Isabelle was between Lady Sophie and the Earl and the circle was completed with Mary between the Earl and James. The Earl had certainly ordered an excellent spread; he was obviously used to sitting down to the best fare. At least Bath could provide this Isabelle thought with pleasure; most produce was sourced locally and was of high quality, making eating a real pleasure. The White Hart was especially known for its good fare.

  The conversation was stilted. Mary in her own quiet way did her best to reach through the armour that the Earl had around him, while James and Lady Sophie were absorbed in themselves to the exclusion of everyone else. Isabelle was content not to try to engage the Earl in conversation; she was more interested in watching her brother and his prospective bride. They did seem to be happy with each other; Isabelle could see clearly that James was besotted with Lady Sophie, but Isabelle was slightly concerned at the young age of Lady Sophie. She knew that the age difference was not uncommon, but Lady Sophie seemed even younger than her years, if she had not already been told her age, she would have guessed that she was barely out of the schoolroom. The concerns were reinforced by the snippets of conversation that she listened to and she began to question whether the match would be long-lasting. She would hate for James to finally fall in love to then find out his attachment waned as the age difference became an issue.

  Eventually she was disturbed from her thoughts by the Earl’s voice. “So, Miss Crawford, what do you find to occupy yourself with in Bath?” It was asked with a sneering drawl, which made Isabelle bristle.

  “Oh I think you’ll find that there is plenty to keep one occupied for those willing to enter into the hustle and bustle even a small society can create,” Isabelle smiled coolly back.

  “Do you take the waters often?”

  “No, never, I’m never ill.”

  Tom raised his eyebrows, “And yet you have settled in Bath. Singular.”

  “Not at all,” Isabelle said coolly, keeping control even though his tone annoyed her. “I wish to avoid the silliness of London and Bath offers the perfect alternative, entertainment without the shallowness of much of London society.”

  “I thought all young ladies revelled in London society,” Tom replied condescendingly.

  Isabelle laughed, genuinely amused.“If I were still a young lady perhaps I would have agreed with your comment and been more reluctant to leave London, but once past one’s prime it is best to accept the realities of the world and arrange one’s life to suit one’s own needs. Rather that than live unhappily in a society one has ceased to enjoy.”

  Tom looked in disbelief at Isabelle and appeared to start to say something, but his sister interrupted their conversation. “Miss Crawford, your brother tells me you are an excellent horsewoman. Could I accompany you on your rides during my stay?”

  “I would question the term excellent, but yes it would be a pleasure to have your company while you are here. I ride or walk most days. If you like you can use my second horse with pleasure. Mary dislikes riding and so poor Jess never gets the exercise she needs.”

  “That would be wonderful, Tom would you join us? I know you go mad if you don’t get at least one good ride a day.”

  Tom looked unhappy to have been included in the proposed outings, but he was too polite to give a refusal, so agreed to make up the party in the morning. “Do you keep to the town when you walk and ride?” He asked Isabelle as his sister turned back to James to make plans for their ride.

  “I do try and make morning visits on foot whenever possible. It seems a waste to use the carriage when I am perfectly capable of walking through town. I also like walking in Sidney Gardens and of course there is the obligatory walk along the Crescent on Sundays,” she said with a smile. “I venture further afield though whenever I can, there are lovely walks to the nearby villages, especially to Weston to which I drag Mary along far too often for her liking. The countryside further afield is beautiful. I believe it will meet the approval of most lucky enough to venture out beyond the City.”

  “My cousin is far too energetic for those around her,” Mary smiled at Isabelle. “I usually hope that she exhausts herself by evening, so we can have a quiet time by the fire, but unfortunately it is never to be, she is always ready to attend a ball.”

  “Now Mary, don’t give such false representations to his Lordship. You know as well as the rest of us that I cannot be considered as energetic when the Assembly Rooms close at eleven. We do not keep London hours here, which helps us to do more during the day. I cannot give you false impressions of us being occupied as riotously as you are in London.” Isabelle raised her eyes to the Earl in a challenge and again she saw the flicker she had noticed when they had been first introduced.

  “I would hope you are not occupied as I am in London,” Tom replied quietly.

  “I would expect not, my eccentric behaviour is indulged by my brothers, but if I were to develop the behaviour of a rake I would be cast out even by them.”

  Isabelle saw the sides of the Earl’s mouth twitch and he coughed in an effort to stop the laughter before replying “Quite so,” in a strangled voice.

  Isabelle smiled sweetly at him, but James interrupted her. “Izzy for God’s sake, I’ve brought you here to give a good impression of the family, not to convince Standish never to allow any connection with us whatsoever! Sometimes I agree with Frank that you run away with yourself.”

  “Well that is me put firmly in my place!” Isabelle said, not looking remorseful in the slightest. “I can only offer my apologies my Lord and assure you that my faults are not in any way apparent in any other member of my family. They are mine alone to bear.” She finished with a sigh, addressing her remarks to the Earl and tried to suppress a smile when she saw his mouth twitch again.

  “I am reassured madam,” he smiled at her and for the first time she saw the smile reach his eyes. It was a pity he did not smile more often Isabelle thought to herself for he was a handsome man, devastatingly so when he smiled like that. “Shall we withdraw Crawford? The other room is not suitable for the ladies to withdraw to.” Tom said changing the subject and leading the way out of the parlour, leaving the ladies to plan their activities over the next few days.

  Tom led James into a small side room. It was cramped and basically furnished, but large enough for the two men to enjoy a glass of port without the chatter of the ladies.

  “I do apologise for my sister, she does tend to speak without thinking,” James said as soon as they sat.

  Tom waved the apology away. “It’s refreshing to be challenged over dinner. You have too much experience of the society we keep to know how rare that is. I’m surprised your sister is not married.” He could not resist asking what really was an impertinent question, but the package that was Isabelle Crawford brought out a curiosity that he would normally have repressed.

  “We expected her to marry - she did herself,” James explained. “But the buffoons who vied for her attention failed to notice that she is intelligent as well as handsome and did not hide what they were really after, her fortune.”

  “Idiots! You say she is handsome. I would imagine she would be considered a beauty.”

  “Yes, although she genuinely doesn’t see it herself. I know what she will say when we leave tonight, that Lady Sophie is beautiful. Izzy sees beauty in the opposite to her; golden hair and blue eyes. I don’t think that she would have appreciated someone swooning over her looks when she was being courted. She needed someone who would be her equal in ways that would provide her with the happy marriage she has been told our parents had. I sometimes think we have done her a disservice, perhaps we should not have told her so much about our parents in order that she could settle for something less.”

  “Why shouldn’t she aim to be happy in marriage? Neither of us can criticise her for avoiding second best, most would avoid accepting that,” Tom said in defence of Isabelle while slowly swirli
ng his port in his glass. He would never encourage anyone into marriage after what he had seen from his parents’ marriage.

  “I’m hoping that you will eventually allow me to achieve my ideal of happiness with your sister,” James said using the opportunity to bring the conversation back around to Sophie.

  Tom did not provide any coherent response and withdrew from what had been the first real conversation James had had with him. They soon drained their glasses and moved to join the ladies once more. The rest of the evening was spent without any further revelations on both sides, restricted to the usual entertainments an evening in company offered and eventually the invited party took their leave and left the White Hart.

  Chapter 3

  Isabelle woke with the anticipation of having the opportunity of learning more about her future sister. James was besotted with Sophie and Isabelle was determined to spend as much time with her as she could during their visit. She dressed quickly and joined Mary in the breakfast room. James was a late riser and she was able to question Mary about her opinion as they breakfasted without him.

  “What did you think of Lady Sophie?” Isabelle asked as she settled down to eat her ham, scones and warm bread rolls.

  “She is very beautiful,” Mary answered with a rueful smile. “I’m surprised there isn’t a trail of beaux following her to Bath.”

  “She is, isn’t she? No-one could doubt her beauty, but what about her character and what she has in common with James? She seems very young doesn’t she?”

  “She did, but that will change and you are forgetting James’s character, he perhaps needs someone younger than himself to achieve happiness in marriage. You sound uncertain of her character, do you not like her?”

  “Oh yes, I like her from what I have seen so far, who could not? It’s just the compatibility I worry about, but James has known her for longer than I have. I am perhaps being too cautious. I should allow myself to observe them more before making any firm judgements.”

  “You are being a loving sister with your cautiousness. If James has chosen her for his bride, she is a very lucky girl and we shall have plenty of time to see how well she deserves him over the coming weeks.”

  “You are sense itself Mary and I realise that I am being too hard on Lady Sophie, I did like her a lot. I shall leave my concerns behind and enjoy her company,” Isabelle shook herself out of her anxiety and went to dress in her riding habit.

  When she returned to the drawing room Mary was entertaining Lady Sophie and the Earl who had arrived for the ride early. The Earl had positioned himself near the window, looking out onto Great Pulteney Street, while Mary and Sophie sat companionably on the sofas near the fireplace. They turned to the door as Isabelle entered.

  “I am sorry for arriving at this early time; I just could not wait to go out on your horse!” Sophie came across the room in greeting to Isabelle. “You look stunning Miss Crawford!”

  Isabelle laughed at Sophie, “Thank you, but there is only one person in this room who is stunning and that is you.” Sophie did fit the description perfectly; her riding habit was of a blue that made her eyes even more vivid. Her hat was perched on her curls and feathers curled around and seemed to skim the side of her face. Isabelle had dismissed the compliment given to her as a well-meaning polite gesture, but she failed to recognise the picture she portrayed. Her riding habit was of a deep red, Isabelle always chose striking colours and with her dark colouring, she chose to good effect. She had no additions on her outfit such as feathers, opting for simple elegance.

  “Come, my groom should have brought the horses around by now, let’s make a start,” Isabelle invited her guests.

  She led the way outside and mounted her horse; he was a sleek black animal, built for strength and speed, a fine addition to any stable. Her second horse was as impressive looking, but a deep chestnut in colour. James was waiting with his horse and Tom’s, both fine chestnut creatures. The gentlemen allowed Isabelle and Sophie to take the lead as they set off. Isabelle had already decided which route to take out of the town; she turned down towards the end of Great Pulteney Street towards Sidney Gardens to avoid the centre and all its traffic. The horses were well behaved, but the sooner they were out in the open the better for all.

  Sophie chatted as they rode together, skirting Sydney Gardens and taking the road at the opposite end of the gardens that led them out of Bath. She asked about Isabelle’s life and all the things she did to occupy her time, wanting to know what activities they could enjoy during their visit. It was also a perfect opportunity for Isabelle to question Sophie to try and get to know her better. She soon found they had much in common with their upbringings; both had lost their parents at an early age.

  “I do remember Mama and Papa,” Sophie explained. “I was six when the accident happened, but sometimes I struggle to remember their features clearly and that upsets me. It is becoming harder the more time passes.”

  “I can understand that. I have no memory of my mother although everyone says I am very like her in personality as well as looks. Her portrait shows me how much I am physically like her, we all have her dark colouring, but I would have liked to have known her,” Isabelle confided.

  “I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m sometimes jealous of the time that Tom had with them. He has far more memories than I, being so much older. It is wrong of me as he has always taken the best care of me and please don’t think me resentful, but I often wish I could have been older, with perhaps not such a large age difference between us,” Sophie whispered, to prevent her brother overhearing.

  “No-one would accuse you of being resentful, your feelings are only natural. I’m sure your brother would understand and feel the same way if he was in your position,” Isabelle reassured her.

  “He would laugh if he knew my feelings; he has no time for silliness.”

  Isabelle smiled slightly, “I thought as much.” She continued to lead until they had reached the outskirts of Bath, crossing the river. The countryside opened out once past the growing spread of Bath and green fields replaced wide streets. Isabelle allowed Beauty to pick up his pace and release some of his pent up energy once the open ground was reached. James took the opportunity to pair with Sophie and the Earl easily overtook the slower couple to catch up with Isabelle. There was soon a substantial gap between the preferred pairs and Isabelle pulled Beauty back a little into a slow trot, she felt refreshed herself now that she had travelled some distance at speed.

  Tom slowed beside her and fell into step. “That is a fine horse, did you choose him yourself?”

  Isabelle smiled, reaching to pat Beauty. “He is a handsome beast isn’t he? I would like to take the credit for choosing him, but it was my brother Frank who chose him. He has a good eye for horses; I always trust his judgement with regards to animals.” She smiled mischievously, “if James ever tries to convince you of his ability in choosing a horse, delve a little deeper and you will always find Frank has actually chosen not James. He once bought a horse without Frank’s input and you have never seen such a sluggish creature in your life! It wasn’t good enough to pull a cart never mind carry a gentleman around town!”

  “I’m not sure your brother would thank you for telling me such stories, but I do,” Tom bowed slightly in his saddle with an unreadable expression on his face.

  Isabelle met his gaze and shrugged. “What is the point of not being honest? My brother is a fine man and will make a good husband if he eventually marries your sister, but there is no merit in me making him out to be something he is not. You would only find out the truth eventually and then you would dismiss everything I said as coming from a dishonest, empty-headed woman!”

  “After even such a short acquaintance I would not dare accuse you of being either,” Tom said with a flicker of amusement.

  “Well that should reassure me, but I’m sure you will be able to think of even more censorious terms when thinking of me,” Isabelle smiled.

  Tom looked surprised at the accusation, “W
hy should I want to censure you?”

  “You made it clear last night that you, like my brothers, I may add in your defence, think I am mad to choose the lifestyle I have,” Isabelle said simply and without any offence.

  Tom was not used to being spoken to with such honesty, but it was done in such a charming way that he could not help but feel slightly embarrassed at the feelings he had when hearing of the age of James’s sister and the life she had chosen. The previous evening, he had wondered about her mental state, such a beauty running away from the height of society, but after speaking with James, although he still could not fully understand, he did have some sympathy with her.

  “I did think you were mad and some part of me still does,” he answered also being honest.

  Isabelle laughed, “I think I may be a little, but when I moved here it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was no longer the girl being hunted for her money; here I am just one of many, who can disappear into the crowd.”

  Tom wondered if she could ever truly disappear into the crowd, she was stunning to look at and her manner was almost magnetic with the way it drew him to her. “Your brothers should have protected you more,” he said gruffly.

  “Frank was already married when I entered society, so had a wife and young family to attend to. James did protect me, he saw off my unsuitable suitors instead of putting me through the torment of giving them permission to pay their addresses.”

  Tom rode in silence thinking of the way he had protected Sophie, which had gone a lot further than Isabelle was describing. Men had not been allowed near his sister in most cases and many had not dared try with him standing in the background glowering at any approach they tried to make. He had actually been impressed with James’s determination when faced with the Earl at his most abrasive, enough for Tom to begin to seriously consider him as a possible husband for Sophie. He was not going to let his feelings be known quite yet though; James still had a lot to prove in his eyes.