Chapter 10
With the Yuletide celebrations having come and gone amidst the usual amount of joyful revelry, there was a small pause in the winter social season, allowing everyone to catch their breath before commencing the next whirlwind round of parties and fashionable gatherings. Isabel sat in her drawing room mulling over the events of the past few weeks. Too much time had passed since she had last seen Rian, and she now realized how badly she had misjudged the situation between them.
Her initial fury over his apparent rejection of her had long since abated, and she was forced to admit to herself that she missed him desperately. Never in her life had she thought that one man could make her feel this way. She had clung stubbornly to the hope that Rian might yet come to her while he remained in town, but he had not. It would have been more bearable to discover he was enjoying the charms of another woman, but John had reported that her suspicions about Catherine were so far unfounded. There was nothing to substantiate the suggestion of a relationship developing between Rian and the girl. If anything the opposite seemed true.
The self-imposed delay of his return to Oakhaven gave all the appearance that Rian was not beguiled by Catherine, or, if he had been, the attraction had since waned.
Still, Isabel was not completely convinced. The girl may not have been able to seduce her way into Rian’s bed yet, but something had sparked between them. Something strong enough to make Rian believe he no longer wanted her. She would stake her own blotted reputation on it. Pacing back and forth, she tapped a well-manicured nail against her teeth. Perhaps Catherine had heeded her warning after all, but she thought it doubtful. Experience had shown her that someone who had nothing rarely turned down the chance to take everything when it was offered. As frustrating as it was, Isabel seemed to be left with two options. She could wait for Rian to come to his senses, or hope that ignorance tipped the girl’s hand into doing something foolish.
With a sigh, she turned her thoughts toward her previous meeting with Phillip Davenport. It had taken her only moments to recognize him for the cunning predator he was. As if clothing himself in fashionable silks could disguise the foulness of his true nature. She loathed him on sight but knew John would not ask her to meet with him were it not important. Putting aside her personal abhorrence, Isabel had listened as Phillip related the circumstances regarding the disappearance of his cousin, Catherine Davenport.
Despite his protests to the contrary, she knew immediately who had been responsible for the girl’s desperate flight. And also whose hand had left the marks on Catherine’s back. Under different circumstances Isabel would have applauded the fortitude it took to escape such a despicable monster, but of all the men in the city, Catherine had crossed paths with Rian. And Isabel still wasn’t entirely convinced that the memory loss was genuine. Given the choice between a sadistic pig like Phillip Davenport and Rian Connor, well, there really was no choice.
She listened attentively as Phillip wove his web of lies, clucking sympathetically in all the right places. The timeline of Catherine’s disappearance as well as the physical description he gave only confirmed that Rian had indeed rescued the missing cousin.
“Mr. Fletcher informs me you might possibly know the whereabouts of our dear Catherine,” Phillip said, licking his lips as high spots of color danced in his cheeks. “I pray that this is so. My wife has been so worried she has taken to her bed.” He paused as if to impress upon his audience the seriousness of his wife’s ailment before continuing. “As I am sure you know, the city can be most unkind to a young woman who is wandering, friendless and alone. It is far too easy to fall victim to unprincipled rogues.”
“Indeed, indeed,” Isabel murmured. “I do not wish to offer false hope, Mr. Davenport, but it would be wrong of me not to share that I have recently become acquainted with a young woman who would seem to fit the description of your cousin.” Phillip opened his mouth to speak, but Isabel’s raised hand stopped him. “However, it would be wrong of me to make assumptions. I believe another visit with the young woman is necessary in order to be completely certain. Anything less would be a disservice to both of you.” Rising from her seat, she gave him a dazzling smile. An indication their meeting was concluded.
“You understand my concern, Lady Howard,” Phillip said. “In her present state of mind, who knows what my poor Catherine might say or do.”
Hearing a thread of unease in his tone, Isabel wondered how high his agitation might climb if he knew she had already witnessed his handiwork. “Quite so, Mr. Davenport, and I will take that into consideration,” she told him solicitously. “Once the issue of the girl’s identity is no longer in question, then I will send word through my associate.” She tipped her head in John’s direction, and then turned her back, signaling their meeting was concluded.
When John returned she poured a generous snifter of brandy for each of them. “That man,” she began, handing him a glass, “is a consummate liar.”
“Quite so, but a liar with the skill to weave some truth amongst the lies.”
Grudgingly, Isabel agreed. “Now, tell me all that I don’t know about the loathsome piece of filth,” she said, inviting John to sit.
For the next fifteen minutes she listened, making no comment as her informant apprised her of Phillip Davenport’s diminishing fortunes and his penchant for brutality.
“I have seen his handiwork for myself,” Isabel murmured. “There can be no doubt he is responsible for the girl’s condition.”
“Given what we know about him, I would imagine so,” John agreed.
“I’m sure you know what I need of you.”
“A trip north to discover all I can about the elusive Miss Davenport?” John said, finishing off his drink.
Isabel gave a little laugh. “It really is a pleasure doing business with you, John.” She refilled his glass before going to the bureau where she kept a small lockbox. Unlocking it, Isabel withdrew a small brown purse that she handed to John. The weight in his palm was generous, signifying the importance of the matter. He looked at Isabel with a raised brow.
“A bonus for you,” she said in answer to his unspoken inquiry. “I want to know everything, John.” He finished his drink as Isabel resumed pacing before the large picture window. “And there is one other thing I need you to do.” Her voice was soft, but the frigid tone made him pay attention.
“Yes?”
“Make certain that Phillip Davenport never comes near me again.”
Isabel watched as the carriage pulled away from the door. Winter in the North Country was always so much crueler than in London. The cold held a deeper bite, but she had no doubt that John had already anticipated this. His fee was more than enough to cover the cost of a warm coat and heavy boots, should he need either. She did not regret the money. The information it would buy was well worth the price.
It started to snow again, and as Isabel raised her eyes to look at the grey sky, a slow smile crept across her face. A wedding was always cause for celebration, and for most families one gathering was enough to satisfy the obligation. But the Connors also held to traditions of their own making. Marriage into the family required a second joyful festivity to mark the occasion. One in which the new bride was presented to the tenants who worked the land. This second ball was a more informal gathering held at the family estate, and rumored to be a far more boisterous affair than the traditional ceremony enjoyed by the happy couple’s relatives and peers. Though she found the idea quite vulgar, Isabel could understand the appeal. Rules of etiquette were relaxed, and no-one would be waiting to pounce if the newest Mrs. Connor forgot the correct way to address a viscount. Which no doubt explained why invitations were never issued beyond the immediate family. It would take very little effort on her part to find out precisely when this other gala was going to take place, and being the consummate actress she was, Isabel had every confidence that her unexpected arrival at Oakhaven would be forgiven.