Chapter 4

After leaving Isabelle in Lady Thorpe's capable hands, Andrew left Thorpe House to return to his own residence. As he walked down the sidewalk, whistling, he looked up at the sky. After the ominous signs of the morning, the dark clouds had blown away, leaving the sky a beautiful azure blue. The sun shone down, reflecting off the neatly polished windows of the townhouses that lined the street. Many people walked the footpaths, taking advantage in the break of the weather to get some much needed fresh air. Ladies walked in all of their finery, the kaleidoscope of colour almost blinded Andrew as he walked along. The gentlemen seemed to have dressed for the occasion as well, most wearing their finest coats and breeches.

Instead of going home, Andrew turned on his heel and proceeded to Hyde Park. It was such a lovely day; he wanted to take advantage of the warm weather as well. In addition, he had ulterior motives for taking a walk; he wanted to see if he could convince some of his friends to meet Isabelle. He had to be careful though; many of his friends had suffered losses at the card tables and were on the lookout for a wealthy heiress to supplement their own fortunes. Even though he had not known Isabelle that long, he knew he had to make a good choice for her, considering her recent year after her father had died.

He did not know why he had helped someone he barely knew. Maybe because of her courage or maybe because of those expressive sapphire blue eyes he could not seem to stop thinking about. She seemed to be so different from the usual young misses that he met around Town. They only seemed to have one thing on their mind and that was to find a highly prodigious marriage, usually prodded by their overbearing mothers. Isabelle did not seem to be like that, she seemed to be quite an independent spirit, something he had not come across before. He would be lying to himself if he did not believe she intrigued him, just a little bit.

He walked along the path that meandered its way through oak trees and flower beds that had only just started to bud. He did not even notice the Nanny's and Governess's that looked after their young charges and ladies and gentlemen either walking or riding their horses. He looked up when he heard someone calling out his name from behind him. He turned around and there coming toward him was Lady Agnes Beecham, the Baroness of Abington and her daughter Miss Felicity Beecham.

"Ah, Lord Thorpe, what a lovely coincidence," Lady Beecham cried as she neared.

"Lady Beecham, Miss Beecham," he replied politely, bowing first to the mother and then the daughter.

He had spent quite some time escorting her around town the previous year and her beauty had not diminished since he last saw her. Her blond ringlets peaked out from a simple chip straw bonnet embellished with a simple white feather, pink ribbon securing it to her head to match her simple pink and white stripped day dress. She peered up at Andrew through pale blue eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering demurely in an attempt to flirt. Her peaches and cream complexion did not have evidence of one freckle to mark her perfect skin.

Lady Beecham elbowed her daughter in the ribs. "Good afternoon, my lord," Miss Beecham said, as she executed a perfect curtsy.

"May I join you in a turn around the park, my lady?" he asked politely.

"Of course, my lord," Lady Beecham replied. "We would be honoured."

Andrew offered both ladies his arm, putting himself between them to escort them around the park. As with all mothers, Lady Beecham had designs on a prodigious marriage for her daughter and in her eyes Andrew would be the perfect candidate. He was of the highest ton and it did not hurt he was also very handsome. His title and enormous wealth did not go astray either.

"How is your lovely aunt?" Lady Beecham asked. "I have not seen Lady Thorpe for quite some time."

"She is in fine fettle, my lady," Andrew replied. "As a matter of fact, she shall be attending many functions during the season. Something she has not done for quite some time."

"I would dearly love to renew my acquaintance," Lady Beecham cried. "In fact I am in preparation for a ball for my daughter. I would dearly love for you both to attend, my lord."

"We would be honoured, my lady," he replied.

"I shall send the invitations by special messenger immediately," she said.

It would definitely be a coup if she could convince this handsome young gentleman to attend her little soiree and to have his aunt in attendance as well. That would be most advantageous to the plans of Lady Beecham. They had been friends for quite some time, but had not seen each other since Lady Thorpe chose not to attend many society functions in recent years. Getting Lady Thorpe in her corner would be half the battle in getting Lord Thorpe to make an offer for her daughter. A small smile began to form around the corners of her mouth; she could almost see her plans coming to fruition. Yes, things were coming together nicely; he did spend quite a lot of time with the young Miss Beecham the previous season after all. All he needed now was a push in the right direction.

"Oh, yes, my lord," Felicity said, her voice, a high-pitched soprano. "You must attend; I shall be very disappointed if you did not."

Her voice grated on Andrew's nerves. However, his aunt wanted him to marry and marry well and as he loved his aunt very much, he endeavoured to do just that. He looked down at the diminutive miss walking next to him. He certainly would not mind performing his duties as a husband with the beautiful creature currently on his arm. He could definitely do worse. She came from a well-respected family; the Baron of Abington had quite a fortune and would definitely have a substantial dowry for his daughter that would supplement his own quite nicely. The only problem was, Miss Beecham seemed to be like every other young miss in London, she was empty headed and flirted incessantly, and that was something he could not cope with.

He still had hope of marrying for love, but over time that thought had diminished with every season. It seemed he would have to settle for someone he merely liked. His duty was to produce an heir to continue the family line, after all. Many ton marriages were done that way and they seemed happy. Maybe it would work for him as well. It would not matter so much if he married Miss Beecham. Once they were married, he would not have to see her, only to do his duty of course, she would produce fine looking children. He decided to get to know her better, before making a decision.

"If it shall please you, Miss Beecham," he said, smiling at her. "Rest assured I shall be there. Now, if you will excuse me, I do need to run some errands before it becomes too late."

They said their farewells, again, Lady Beecham reinforcing her daughter's ball. As if he could forget. Lady Beecham decided to proceed back to her home and Andrew decided to visit his club as he had not seen any of his friends. The impromptu visit with Lady and Miss Beecham did not help matters. He left the park and hired a hackney to take him to St James Street, the location of his club.

The hackney stopped outside of a stone building. Totally nondescript from the outside, anyone new to the area would not know what went on inside. He paid the hackney driver and walked up the stairs toward the large double oak doors. He walked in and handed his coat and hat to the butler at the door, before entering a large room carpeted in the finest burgundy, thick wool carpeting. Mahogany tables dotted the room in a regular pattern, four mahogany chairs upholstered in plush velvet fabric placed at each. Along the back wall ran a mahogany bar and on the opposite wall, two large bay windows allowed ample light to flood the building.

He walked up to the bar and ordered a pint of ale from the barman dressed in an immaculate red waistcoat and tail coat the same colour. He took his drink and sat down at a table nearby to survey the room. None of his friends had arrived as yet and planned to have his drink and leave, having to return on the morrow. He was just about ready to leave when he saw coming toward him, his good friend, Lord Peter Kendrick, the Earl of Markham. Just the gentleman he wanted to see.

"Kendrick, you are just in time, I was about to depart," Andrew said, sitting back down in his chair.

"Thorpe, I am so glad to see you back in Town. When did you arrive?" Kendrick asked in a rich baritone.

"Early this morning, I have been rather busy since then," he replied. "I have run into a slight problem with someone I have just met."

"Please, do tell," Kendrick said, his eyebrows rising in question.

"A rather lovely young woman needs some help. I have offered to give it to her."

Kendrick laughed, the rich sound reverberated around the room, causing other gentlemen present to turn and stare. "You do seem to get yourself in all sorts of bother, Thorpe. So it was at Eton and so it is now."

Kendrick and Thorpe had attended both Eton and Oxford together and had been the best of friends since they were in short pants. Kendrick was the polar opposite to Thorpe in looks as well as personality. While Thorpe was dark, Kendrick was fair with blonde hair and kindly blue eyes that betrayed his mirth; he was of a humorous disposition, taking not a thing for granted. Some would say he was quite handsome although, a little on the slim side. His clothing fit him extremely well, his dark grey tailcoat in the latest cut, his white waistcoat showed off his slim form to perfection, as did the dark grey breeches over black hose he wore.

Thorpe on the other hand was quite a serious fellow, possibly because of losing his parents at such a young age. Although, he did have the support of his solicitor as he was underage, he still felt the sense of responsibility that was required with his new station in life. Thorpe perused his dear friend Kendrick. Yes, he thought. Kendrick should be the perfect candidate to help him as he was not one to play excessively at cards or indeed visit mistresses as so many of their other friends did. As far as Thorpe knew, he did not have a one. Kendrick's personality ensured he would be more than capable of taming the fiercely independent Isabelle.

"I can hear you thinking, Thorpe," Kendrick said smiling.

"How would you like to meet the lovely Lady Isabelle?" Thorpe asked.

"Please, tell me about her," Kendrick said.

Andrew proceeded to tell his long-time friend about Isabelle, leaving out the fact of her inheritance, the less that knew about that the better, he thought. Once he had finished, Kendrick leaned back on his chair, a thoughtful look upon his countenance.

"She sounds quite remarkable," he said with a twinkle in his limpid blue eyes. "Did she really travel all that way without any assistance?"

"Oh yes," Andrew replied. "I did offer, but she said no, very politely of course."

"How about I meet her on the morrow?" Kendrick asked. "You did say she is staying at your dear lady aunt's."

"Yes, would two of the clock suit?" Thorpe asked.

Before they left for their homes, they made plans to meet before calling on Isabelle and Lady Thorpe.

****

Isabelle had already begun to like Lady Thorpe very much. She found her new protector to be in quite good humour and His Lordship was quite right, Lady Thorpe had an independent streak just as Isabelle did. Isabelle described her journey from Denby Manor and by the time she had finished, Lady Thorpe had been in raptures, wiping her eyes from the tears that fell caused by her laughter.

"Oh, my dear girl," she laughed. "What I would not give to see look on my nephews face when he found you."

Isabelle grinned. "I must admit it would have come as quite a shock for him."

"Oh yes. Now, come and I shall show you to your room." Lady Thorpe said rising from the chaise.

Isabelle followed her up the ornate mahogany staircase and toward the second floor. They walked down a dimly lit hallway with candle sconces placed at regular intervals along the wall, toward a chambers situated up the other end. Isabelle and Lady Thorpe entered a nicely decorated sitting room that was decorated in violet and white, to the left was a bedchambers decorated in the same colour. Lady Thorpe informed Isabelle that they called these chambers the violet rooms.

Isabelle looked around her in amazement; she had never seen anything like it. The bed chamber was dominated by a white canopy bed with white coverlet with violet roses embroidered into the fabric. The rest of the furniture was white as well, from the vanity that had various lotions and creams that a lady needed to attend to her toilette, to the clothes press and chest of draws with their dainty golden handles. The sitting room as well had the same decorations, from the violet paint upon the walls to the white chaise longues with violet upholstery placed around the room, a marble mantle stood above a hearth that had a fire dancing merrily, throwing shadows around the room.

"This room is lovely, my lady," she exclaimed, turning around in a circle.

"It is yours for as long as you wish it, my dear," Lady Thorpe replied, kindly. "Now, please sit down. Plans have to be made regarding your wardrobe."

Isabelle did as she was bid and sat down on the chaise closest to the window, an expectant expression upon her countenance. She did not have long to wait. Lady Thorpe sat down beside her and gracefully placed her hands on her lap. Isabelle started to feel quite disconcerted by the steady gaze her ladyship now bestowed on her. She knew that now her cheeks would become as red as a beetroot under the scrutiny, in Isabelle's quite knowledgeable opinion anyway. That was one thing that could be said for Isabelle, she had no illusions as to her looks. She did not understand why her wardrobe could be of such importance. Why could her clothing not come from Denby Manor, it would only be but days. She had enough with her until then.

"Now, my dear," Lady Thorpe said. "I shall send for the dressmaker in the morning and she may take your measurements for some new gowns."

"But…" Isabelle started to protest, but her ladyship held up her hand to quiet her.

"I do know what you are about to say, my dear," Lady Thorpe continued. "Judging by what you are currently wearing, it will not turn a gentleman's head. That is what we are hoping to happen, is it not?"

"Yes, my lady," Isabelle replied meekly. After all, her ladyship had a point; her gown was a few years old, as was the rest of her wardrobe.

"Now, I shall send a maid up to you to look after you for the duration of your stay," Lady Thorpe said in a voice that told Isabelle not to argue. Lady Thorpe could be quite formidable, as Isabelle started to realise.

Soon after Lady Thorpe swept from the room, a diminutive, dark haired maid peeked demurely through the open door. At Isabelle's direction, she entered the room and curtsied to her new mistress, her eyes cast down as if afraid of what was to come. She did not have anything to fear. Isabelle arose from the chaise by the window and went over to the young woman, who could not have been more than eight and ten, and placed an arm around her shoulders.

"What is your name?" Isabelle asked gently.

"My name is, Anna, my lady," she said quietly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Anna," Isabelle replied and she was rewarded by a wide smile.

Thinking of the what she was to wear the following day, Isabelle went to her pack and took out a rather crumbled gown of pale yellow muslin and handed it to Anna for her to press. Anna took the piece of clothing and hurriedly departed to the laundry room to do as she was asked. Isabelle continued to wander about the room and was startled when she heard the rustle of silk behind her. She turned around and saw Lady Thorpe standing there holding a garment, the whitest Isabelle had ever seen.

"Here, my dear," Lady Thorpe said, handing the garment to her. "Here is a nightgown for you to wear."

Taking the garment from her ladyship, Isabelle felt the high quality of the fabric. The finest linen and lace, the softest she had ever felt. She had never had such a fine garment in which to sleep. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Even though Isabelle did not have any siblings, she was never spoilt. Her father did not believe in coddling his only child, much preferring to teach her the harsh realities of life. Not everybody had the same advantages in life as Isabelle and that was the lesson that her father had taught her.

"Oh, thank you, my lady," Isabelle cried.

"It is my pleasure, my dear," Lady Thorpe replied, a smile upon her countenance. "Whatever happened to Anna?"

"I sent her to press my gown for tomorrow, I confess it was rather wrinkled," Isabelle said sheepishly.

"Well, make sure you get an early night, there is much to be done tomorrow," Lady Thorpe said, sweeping out of the door.

Isabelle sat herself on the ample double bed, seeming to sink down into the mattress. What luxury, she thought. It would become extremely hard for her to get out of bed in the morning. Isabelle was aroused out of her daydream by the arrival of Anna bearing the newly pressed gown. She hung it in the wardrobe and turned to face Isabelle, an expectant look upon her face.

"Please, help me undress and prepare for bed," Isabelle said, rising from the bed.

After Isabelle found herself swiftly put to bed, she lay against the numerous pillows and eventually fell asleep, wondering what the morrow would bring.