'Good.'
He was silent for the rest of the journey, and she didn't have the heart to talk. Not after such a deliberate indication of his feelings on independence. It was clear he wasn't interested in a relationship other than on his terms. Which meant a casual sexual liaison without strings or attachment.
And she'd die of sadness, sharing him with a host of other women.
He escorted her into the house and spoke to Molly as though she weren't present, as though she were a young child who needed a strong hand and stronger discipline. And when he left, he barely took leave of Isabella. He only nodded.
'I'm so sorry you had to be terrorized by Lonsdale ' Molly commiserated, helping Isabella off with her jacket. 'I blame myself for letting you go.'
'No one's to blame but Lonsdale and my relatives. Damn them all.' Isabella paced to the windows of the small back parlor where Molly had been eating an early supper. 'They won't give up.'
'Could you have them arrested?'
'Not likely.' Isabella gazed out on the pristine green of the small lawn. 'It's my word against theirs, and I'm considerably outnumbered.'
'Then, I'm going to insist you have a bodyguard. If you had taken one with you today, none of this would have happened.'
Isabella turned back to her friend. 'I didn't think I'd ever say this, but you're right. Regardless of the lack of privacy, I don't dare be out alone.'
'I know the perfect man. Joe Thurlow has given up the fight game. His best friend was killed in a match last year, and he lost all interest in the sport. He works for me from time to time. I know he's available.'
Isabella came to sit down at the table with Molly. 'Another thing.' A small frown creased her brow. 'Would you mind terribly,' she slowly said, conscious she might be causing hurt, 'that is-would it matter to you if I decided to retreat from society?'
Molly scrutinized her. 'Because of Lonsdale?'
'No.' Isabella traced a pattern on the tablecloth with her finger. 'Because I don't wish to see Dermott.' She looked up. 'It's cowardly, I know, but seeing him today with that pretty actress and her child was awful.' She slowly inhaled, as though a calming breath would help ease the pain. 'And he told me in no uncertain terms on the ride back to the City that he had no wish to change the pattern of his life.'
'I'm sorry,' Molly murmured. 'I don't know how to offer you comfort. If it's any excuse, the death of his wife and son was so deep a blow, I'm not sure he'll ever recover from it. He feels a terrible guilt for taking them along on campaign. I never told you the whole story, but his family was massacred when their camp was overrun by enemies while he and a troop were out on a scouting mission. He found his wife and son on his return; they were dreadfully mutilated.'
Isabella's face had gone pale. 'How awful,' she whispered.
'He shouldn't have given in to his wife's pleas to accompany him, he shouldn't have left them, he says. He blames himself entirely. He couldn't bear to stay in India; the reminders were too stark, so he came home to England. But he couldn't escape his memories, and his dissipation serves to drug his senses, obliterate his nightmares.' She softly sighed. 'I though you were different. He treated you with a normalcy that gave me hope. He kept you beyond his usual boredom limits, took you to Richmond.' She shrugged. 'I thought he might have forgotten.'
'I think he did for a time.'
'He loved his wife and son deeply.'
'So it seems,' Isabella quietly murmured. 'I'm going to leave the City.' Her voice was suddenly brisk. 'I should be safe enough on my country estate with a bodyguard. I need to retreat from my memories too.'
'I hate to see you go, but I understand. Although, it might be wise to have Joe bring along his brother. They could spell each other in the course of the day.'
'The way I feel right now, so recently saved from my uncle's clutches, you may hire a troop of bodyguards for me if you wish. Tomorrow, I intend to go to the bank and see to my affairs, and perhaps the next day check the warehouses and docks. After that, I'll retreat to Tavora House and begin forgetting Dermott.'
'How strange life is,' Molly observed. 'Under normal circumstances, we would have never met. Under normal circumstances, you and Dermott would have never crossed paths. And now we're caught up in a tangled net of impossible hopes and evil deeds while the ton whirls around us, inured to all but their frantic search for pleasure.'
'I for one am about to extricate myself from the net, from the ton, from any frantic search for anything. I have a life to return to, a business to run, simple pleasures that once offered me happiness.'
'I'll send Lord Moira a note of explanation. Just in case you should ever wish to resume the social whirl.' Molly smiled. 'He's an old friend; he'll understand.'
'How optimistic you are.' Isabella found it possible to smile back, and pleased with her lightening mood as she contemplated a return to her familiar environs, she added, 'Who knows, maybe Dermott will give up his profligate life, be transformed into a white knight, ride up to my country house, and carry me away.'
Molly laughed. 'Send me a message directly that occurs. I very much want to believe in miracles.'
'In the meantime,' Isabella noted, 'I shall busy myself with more mundane activities. Like seeing to my money.'
'See to anything you wish now that you have protection from your relatives. I'll summon Joe and you may discuss your needs with him.'
Dermott had his own activities to see to. After leaving Molly's, he proceeded to find his friend Lord Devon, who agreed to be his second. Protocol required the challenge for a duel be given by the seconds, so the two men went together to search out Lonsdale. They began with his home, although Dermott hardly expected to find him there. The marquis was more likely to be found at his gambling clubs or vice-ridden haunts. Since Dermott knew them all, they drove from one to the other, making inquiries, asking questions, bribing retainers where necessary, scouring the City to find the man and exact revenge.
They finally tracked him down at a Covent Garden coffee house that also served as a tavern and brothel. Lonsdale was in the back room, gambling with a table of rogues and rakes, all the men well into their cups.
'Can you stand, Lonsdale?' Dermott growled, filling the doorway like an avenging angel.
The marquis's gaze languidly came up, raking Dermott with a drunken glance. 'Don't know, Bathurst.' He shrugged. 'Probably not, come to think of it.'
'Make sure you can by tomorrow morning.'
'Will you accept a challenge from Lord Bathurst?' Devon asked, playing his part.
'This is about the Leslie piece?' Lonsdale drawled, his heavy-lidded gaze insolent.
'Mention her name again, and I'll kill you where you sit.'
'Not armed, Bathurst. Shame.'
'Maybe I don't give a damn.'
'Bad form, Bathurst.' The marquis winked at him. 'Think of your fine reputation for honor on the dueling field.'
'Fuck you, Lonsdale.'
'You must want her more than I do.' The marquis surveyed his companions with a smirk. 'Wouldn't think a cunt was worth dying for.'
Dermott gritted his teeth, tempted to shoot him where he sat but not capable of such cold-blooded murder. 'I'll see that you're at Morgan's field at six tomorrow morning,' he grimly said, 'and you'll find out if it is or not.' His glance swept the group at the table. 'One of you should be sober enough to remember. Remind him. Six tomorrow, and if he doesn't appear, I'll come and kill him wherever he is.'
'She must be damned good in bed,' Lonsdale murmured.
'I'll shut your vulgar mouth tomorrow,' Dermott growled, and turning abruptly, he walked away, Devon beside him.
'It must be love,' one of the men mocked, 'for Bathurst to fight over a woman.'
