Feeling more the thing next morning she was up and about in time to take a walk. She half expected him to join her and was disconcerted to find herself disappointed he did not. At a little after eight o’clock she returned. Breakfast would be waiting and, after her enforced fast yesterday, she was more than ready to eat.

“Good morning, Isobel, I’m glad to see you’re fully recovered. Why don’t you sit down and let me serve you?” Alexander put down his cutlery and stood up at her entrance.

“Thank you, I am famished. Tell me, what’s under the covers this morning?”

The meal was accompanied by light-hearted banter. How pleasant it was to have someone to talk to, especially when her companion was so amusing. “What time do you intend to leave?”

“My horse is being saddled. Duncan will follow with my baggage in the carriage. Promise me, my dear that you’ll send for me if you have a problem of any sort.”

“Of course I will. Perhaps you’ll come down and tell me when matters have been arranged by your lawyers?”

“I shall write to you.”

She was tempted to ask him to leave things to her but he was smiling at her openly, was making a kind gesture nothing more. “That would be most helpful, I thank you, sir.”

*   *   *

Alexander forced himself to eat heartily. He was damned if he would let her see how much her formality was hurting. He pushed his plate aside and stood up. “Pray don’t disturb yourself, my dear, finish your meal. Remember—send a message to Grosvenor Square if you need me.”

He bowed and strode from the room without a backward glance. He nodded to the butler and walked out into the crisp, cold morning. It had been purgatory to be so close and not able to touch her, to show her how much he loved her. One thing was certain—Gloria would never get her claws into him. If he could not make love to his wife he would remain celibate. Seeing her again had served to reinforce his decision and confirm his love for her.

He swung into the saddle, his two grooms did likewise, and he urged Rufus into a canter. As he rounded the curve in the drive a carriage turned in. God’s teeth! What was Bentley doing here? Had he not told the young man to remain where he was for a week? The last thing he wanted was for Isobel to meet him. Time enough for Bentley to know there was a child if the infant turned out to be a boy.

The coach rattled to a halt and he leant down to speak to Bentley through the window. “You have to turn round—I wanred you I would not be here more than a day or two. I shall wait for your vehicle. We can stop for refreshments together in an hour or two.”

“I say, my lord, I do beg your pardon. I set off at first light determined to arrive before you left. It would be a shame if I did not meet your duchess now I am here.”

There was almost desperation in his words. Had something untoward occurred in Town that he was fleeing from? Even if that were so, Alexander could not risk a premature meeting between Isobel and his putative heir.

“Lady Isobel isn’t receiving.” He glared and Bentley hastily withdrew his head. The coachman looked down expectantly. “Mr Bentley will be returning forthwith—will your cattle take a double journey?”

“I doubt it, your grace, not without a couple of hours rest. Mr Bentley insisted we travelled at a spanking pace. The beasts are all but done.”

Alexander frowned. Yes, there was a solution to this. The unwanted guest could return with Duncan and this carriage could remain here until the animals were rested. “Bentley, you must travel back with my valet. His carriage is about to leave.”

The dark heard emerged nervously. “I shall do that, of course, your grace. At what hostelry are we to meet? You must not keep your stallion waiting whilst I transfer my belongings to the other vehicle.”

This was a reasonable suggestion. “The Green Man—you follow the toll road and I shall cut across country.”

He saw the other carriage appear behind him. Excellent, it should not take long for the exchange to take place. He could leave knowing he had avoided a potentially difficult situation.

*   *   *

Isobel was in the entrance hall when she heard carriage wheels outside. Goodness, who could this be? Duncan had already departed and he was not likely to have forgotten anything. He was the most frighteningly efficient gentleman’s gentleman. She hurried to the window and looked out making sure she could not be seen from the turning circle. A young man descended. He looked vaguely familiar but she was certain no one of her acquaintance would appear on her doorstep with a sky blue jacket and a pink and gold waistcoat.

“Bill, we are about to receive a visitor. I shall retire to my sitting room. I don’t wish to speak to him. He is a stranger to me; no doubt he has lost his way and called in for directions.”

Whoever this was, he must have seen both Duncan and Alexander and he could have enquired directions from them. She was decidedly uneasy about this. Something was not quite right about her unexpected guest.

Chapter Eleven

Ten minutes went by and then there was a rapid knock on the door. Bill appeared looking somewhat bemused. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but the young gentleman insists I give you his card. He won’t depart until you have seen it.”

Isobel examined the writing. “Good heavens! Mr Bentley—he is next in line to the title at the moment. The duke did tell me about him but I had no idea he was to visit here. Show him into the drawing-room, I suppose I must come and speak to him.” She called the butler back. “I doubt if he has eaten breakfast today, ask the kitchen to have food prepared and laid out in the small dining room.”

Small wonder he had seemed familiar. Alexander must have suggested he called in and introduce himself before returning to the city. It would be better if her pregnancy remained unnoticed. If she ran upstairs and fetched her cloak this would disguise her bump and no doubt he would assume she was on her way out with the dogs.

“Sally, quickly, I need to put on my bonnet and cloak. I require you to do the same; Mr Bentley, a distant relative, has called in unexpectedly and I don’t wish him to remain here long. I should not be entertaining in the duke’s absence.”

Soon she was on her way to the drawing-room, Sally following behind and both dogs gambolling at her feet. The man would have to be stupid not to realise she was on her way elsewhere and could not entertain him.

Pausing in the shadows outside the drawing-room she viewed the young man who was lounging on the chaise-longue with his booted feet resting on the upholstery. This was not a good start. How impertinent of him to make himself at home in this way. She stepped in and stared frostily.

Instantly he was on his feet smiling and bowing. “Your grace, I do beg your pardon for intruding in this way. I can see that you’re about to go out, I shan’t delay you long. Richard Bentley, your husband’s heir, at your service.”

She inclined her head a fraction but did not suggest he sat. “Mr Bentley, I’ve arranged for you to eat before you leave. It isn’t seemly for you to be here when I am unattended by my husband. I can’t believe he would have suggested you visiting me in this way.”

His cheeks turned puce and he clutched at his ridiculously elaborate neck cloth. “I beg your pardon, Cousin Alexander does not know I called in. He believes me to the travelling with his manservant. Forgive me, your grace, but I could not leave without meeting you in person.” He stared at her, his watery blue eyes innocent. “I did not believe the rumours going around Town that you had disappeared. Now I can personally assure society you’re here at Newcomb.” He glanced round rather pointedly and raised an eyebrow. This was a gesture that reminded her of Alexander.

“I’ve spent the past few months in Norfolk with my family, my mother was ailing. Fortunately she has fully recovered. As I don’t enjoy the season and much prefer to live quietly in the country, I move into the east wing whilst my husband is away.”

“Ideal arrangement, it leaves you both free to …” he paused, looking self-conscious. “I beg your pardon … I was about to say something inappropriate.”

To what had he been referring? She could not help herself. “Free to do what exactly, sir?”

He looked at his feet; he was wearing the most ridiculous pair of high-heeled boots. “It’s not my place to discuss gossip, your grace. But as you insist, I am obliged to tell you what’s being said in the drawing rooms of the ton.”

She tapped her foot and waited. He appeared to shrink under her disdainful stare.

“They are saying Cousin Alexander has renewed his friendship with Lady Fulbright. I’m sure they are wrong and I beg your pardon for mentioning it.”

If the wretched man begged her pardon once more she would scream. “And so you should, I am appalled at your indelicacy.”

Slowly she let her gaze travel from his heavily pomaded brown hair, down his gaudy waistcoat to the gold tassels that ornamented his boots. He shifted uncomfortably. There was a slight sound behind her and Bill stepped forward.

“Your grace, breakfast is served for the gentleman. Shall I escort him?”

“Do that, Mr Brown. Mr Bentley will be leaving directly he has eaten.”

The young man edged forward. “I fear the horses won’t be sufficiently rested for another hour or two.”

This was the outside of enough; she was beginning to heartily dislike this mushroom. “In which case, sir, you can occupy your time by exploring the grounds. I bid you good day.”