The baroness exhaled a startled huff while her maid managed to stifle a chortle.
Caro waved the driver on, then quickly turned and set off for Isobel’s residence, leaving her own maid to supervise the packing and transporting of clothing for the short stay with her friend. Anxious to get Isobel alone for a lengthy chat, she had proposed a walk to Sydney Gardens. No brilliantly clever ploy for entrapping Thayer had yet formed in her head, however she had made the decision that Isobel must be informed of what was going on.
Alec might howl with outrage, but in her opinion, it was far more dangerous for him to keep his sister in the dark.
“Now that the day has turned cloudy, it will likely be getting cooler.” Isobel was waiting for her in the entrance hall. “You really ought to have a cloak for our walk.”
“My maid won’t be here for several hours with my trunk,” replied Caro. “I’d rather not wait.”
“Then here, take one of mine.”
Caro regarded the softspun wool garment, which was trimmed with carved silver buttons and a stylish little shoulder cape made of tartan plaid. “But that is your favorite.”
“Yes, but that shade of forest green looks horrid with the apricot stripes of my gown, so I would rather wear my biscuit-colored one,” replied her friend. “And besides, it looks divine on you.”
Refraining from further argument, Caro draped it over her shoulders and slanted a glance at the looking glass hung over the side table.
Yes, it did suit her rather well.
“Thank you.” She fastened the carnelian and silver clasp. “Shall we be off?”
Isobel waited until they were out on the street before murmuring, “You seem in a hurry. Is there a reason?”
“Yes,” answered Caro. “But I would prefer to wait until we have found a private spot in the gardens to explain.”
“That sounds a little ominous.”
She hesitated, letting the silence linger for several steps before replying, “That’s because it is. Your brother will be angry with me, but I feel you should know what is going on.”
“Ha! I knew Alec was hiding something from me.” An uncharacteristic scowl darkened her friend’s face. “I wish he wouldn’t treat me as if I were a child.”
“He wants to protect you,” pointed out Caro. “Which is admirable, of course. But it is my opinion that for any lady with half a brain, knowledge is far better armor than ignorance.”
“Oh, I couldn’t agree more.” An unladylike oath followed, which did not bode well for Alec’s next encounter with his sister. “As to that…”
Caro shook her head in warning. “We ought not discuss it until we have found a secluded place where we can talk without fear of being overheard.” She was determined not to give Alec any reason to accuse her of reckless behavior. “By the by, he had promised to tell me more about what is going on last night at the fireworks display, but Thayer’s presence prevented it. I had hoped he would arrange to meet me this morning, but your aunt mentioned that he rode off at first light.”
No doubt to avoid a tête-à-tête.
Isobel frowned. “He did leave a note for me saying an urgent matter required his attention, and that he planned on returning by supper.” A pause. “Well, it seems he shall find more on his plate than roasted capon and creamed mushrooms.”
Ha! Let us hope he will not stick a fork in my derrière.
The rest of the walk to Sydney Gardens passed in silence, each of them lost in her own thoughts. Passing quickly through the conservatory of the Sydney Hotel, they emerged onto the lawns, and from there Caro quickly chose one of the side paths, which wound around to one of the bridges that crossed the canal. She recalled from past visits that there were several wooded areas that were likely to afford some privacy.
As they came to a copse of trees near one of the marble follies that dotted the grounds, Caro took Isobel’s arm and drew her into the leafy shadows. Spotting a small stone bench set in the shade of a spreading oak, she hurriedly took a seat and expelled a sigh.
“Well?” pressed Isobel as she sat down beside her. “And please, I want to hear the whole story, not some carefully edited version deemed fit for delicate ears.”
“And so you shall.” Caro took several moments to steady her breathing. “Once upon a time…”
“That’s not funny,” murmured her friend.
“Sometimes a bit of humor makes it easier to begin,” she responded. “And I must say, at times my experiences with your brother do seem like something out of a horrid novel.”
To put it mildly.
Caro pursed her lips. “I take it you know something of his activities in the movement for Scottish independence?”