No one came to greet them.
They stopped in front of the iron-studded door. Tristan held her arm as she slid down to the ground. “Go inside where it is warm and dry. Where will I find the stables?”
“Follow the path round to the left.” She shivered as she wiped the running rivulets from her face. Had the damp air finally penetrated or did the coldness she felt stem from the loss of Tristan’s touch. “I’ll ask Mrs. Birch to heat some water so you may bathe.”
An image of them sharing the large metal tub flashed into her mind, but she shook it away along with the drops of rain clinging to her cloak.
“Go inside,” he repeated. “I’ll join you shortly.”
Isabella did as Tristan asked. The front door was unlocked. She strode through the hall, leaving muddy footprints in her wake. Sedgewick was nowhere to be seen. Due to her last minute decision to return, she had not had an opportunity to send word to her staff.
Following the sound of lively chatter, she made her way to the drawing room to find Mrs. Birch, Sedgewick, the chambermaid and the footman seated around the card table. She stood in the doorway, water dripping onto the polished wooden floor, and watched with interest.
“You’ve pulled that one out from your sleeve,” the footman grumbled. “There are only four kings in a pack, and we’ve played them all.”
“Are you accusing me of cheating?” Sedgewick said in his usual lofty tone as he raised his chin. “Is that any way to speak to a superior?”
“We’ve played three,” Molly said.
“How would you know?” the footman countered. “You’ve nodded off twice. There’s only one way to know for sure.”
“You’ve more than likely miscounted.” Mrs. Birch slapped his hand away from the pile of cards in the centre of the table. “Have you been at my lady’s sherry again?”
Isabella stepped into the room. “I certainly hope not as I am in need of more than one glass.”
Four heads turned to the door. Their shocked expressions were quickly replaced with a look of horror. For a few seconds no one moved; no one spoke.
“Lady Fernall,” Mrs. Birch finally gasped. The chairs scraped along the floor as the servants shot to their feet. “We were not expecting you home.”
“I can see that,” Isabella replied with just a hint of irritation. In truth, she was too tired and too wet to care.
Sedgewick inclined his head. “I am afraid I have been led astray, my lady.”
Mrs. Birch elbowed the butler. “Let me explain, my lady—”
“You may save your explanations until later.” Isabella held out her arms. “As you can see, we were caught in the storm and are soaked to the skin.”
Mrs. Birch craned her neck to peer over Isabella’s shoulder. “We, my lady?”
“Lord Morford has come to stay for a few days. Let us pray Jacob is in the stables waiting to attend to him and not gallivanting around the countryside jumping fences on my horse.”
The housekeeper opened her mouth, snapped it shut, but then said, “Forgive me, my lady, but isn’t Lord Morford … d-dead?”
It suddenly occurred to her that the woman was referring to Andrew. Good heavens, fear might have addled her senses, but she had not lost her faculties.
“It is the gentleman’s younger brother who has come to stay. When he returns from the stable he will require a warm bath and his clothes will need airing. A hot meal and a tonic will help to prevent him catching a chill.”
They all raised their chins in acknowledgement.
Mrs. Birch turned to Molly. “The longer he remains in damp clothes the worse it will be.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Isabella sucked in her cheeks and raised a brow to convey her impatience. “Will someone go and heat the water.”
Molly gasped. After offering a curtsy, she scurried out into the hall.
“Lord Morford will take Lord Fernall’s old chamber,” Isabella continued aware of the curious look that passed between her servants. Should Tristan object, she would offer him the choice of another room. But she had her own agenda for making the request. Tristan needed to remain close if he was to bear witness to the strange phenomena. “Light the fire in his chamber and have a bath drawn for him as soon as possible.”
They all nodded and hurried from the room. Mrs. Birch hovered at the door. “Won’t you need some help to change out of your wet clothes?”