“She knew all the little tricks of making a man feel special, and Alec believed that she loved him. They were married, and for a short while all was well. But they returned to Scotland during the summer, and, well, Elizabeth’s lover apparently made the trip north as well.” Isobel’s expression tightened in anger. “Her moods quickly turned surly, and she began to treat Alec abominably, taunting him with his youth and his lack of polish.”
“How awful,” whispered Caro.
“Oh, it gets worse.” Isobel swallowed hard. “Elizabeth soon began to disappear for several days at a time. When Alec confronted her, she tearfully claimed to truly love him and begged for a chance to cast off her lover and reform. Honorable man that he is, he couldn’t imagine that it was just another pack of lies.”
The rumbling clatter of a passing barouche gave Isobel a moment to compose herself. “The following night, Elizabeth absconded with the jewels Alec had given her, along with several very valuable family heirlooms that would have brought a pretty penny when sold on the Continent. But a bad storm blew in from the sea, and the rains made the coast road treacherous. She and her lover perished when their carriage careened off a cliff on their way to the ship that was going to carry them across to Antwerp.”
“I hardly know what to say,” whispered Caro. “No wonder he is reluctant to let anyone close again.”
“He keeps most people at arm’s length,” said Isobel. “You are the only one who provokes a spark of interest in him. I see how he watches you when he thinks none of us are looking.”
“I fear that is because he is wary that I may do something outrageous when he isn’t looking,” she replied wryly. “Your brother thinks me a hellion, and with good reason. When we first met at Lady Dunbar’s castle, we had a number of clashes.”
“I’m not sure that is a bad thing,” murmured Isobel. “For far too long he has lingered in darkness, avoiding any spark of light.”
“Trust me, sparks flew between us. I think several singed his bum. So as I said, he is wary of me.”
“If he appears wary, it is not because of your spirit.” Isobel hesitated. “But enough said. I have perhaps already trespassed on his privacy, but I thought it important that you know the truth, and am certain that I can trust you with his secret.”
Caro was about to answer when the sight of an approaching gentleman caused the words to die on her lips.
“Good day, ladies.” Thayer came to halt beside them and tipped his hat politely.
Damnation. Caro pasted on a smile, hoping she wasn’t white as a sheet. It felt as if every drop of blood had drained from her face.
“Good day,” she answered.
Isobel, she noted, barely managed a murmur of greeting.
“Are you two planning an excursion?” he asked, eyeing the picnic hamper. “I do hope you are not intending on trying to carry such a heavy load by yourselves.”
Loath to reveal any details about the planned outing, Caro answered with a coy laugh. “I am far sturdier than I might look, Mr. Thayer. My father was a noted explorer, and I accompanied him on several expeditions where we were required to lug our own supplies into the wilds.”
“Well, if I ever plan on journeying to darkest Africa, I hope you will agree to accompany me,” he said with a jesting smile.
Ha! And pigs might fly.
But aloud, she answered, “Actually, I have always wanted to experience the splendors of Cathay.”
“That seems suitably wild and exotic,” responded Thayer. “What about you, Miss Urquehart? Do you wish to join us?”
“I am not a world traveler like Miss Caro.”
The bantering exchange was cut short by the arrival of Andover in his curricle.
“Ah, I see you have a gentlemanly escort after all,” said Thayer, as Andover climbed down from his perch and stowed the picnic in the boot. “I would offer to come along and help, but it appears there isn’t room.”
“I fear not,” said Caro.
“Perhaps another time.” And yet, Thayer made no move to continue on. “Where are you planning to picnic?”
She thought quickly. “Oh, we are simply looking forward to viewing the countryside.” A vague wave indicated a direction opposite that of the Abbey ruins. “We thought we might drive by the old Roman fortress by the river, or perhaps the thermal springs.”
Andover looked up sharply, but remained silent.
“The thermal springs are said to be quite scenic,” observed Thayer.
“Well, we ought not keep His Lordship’s cattle waiting.” Caro edged toward the curricle.