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your
    behaviour downstairs.'
          'That man was
going to touch me. Would you wish me to stand there and let him do so?'
          He shook his
head trying to clear his thoughts—she was quite right. He had not given the
incident sufficient attention. He did not doubt her veracity one minute. 'No, of course not. But in future you won't respond in that
unacceptable way. It will be the talk of the town, I dislike having
    my good name brought into disrepute.'
          If he did not remove
himself hastily he would cast up his accounts on her carpet, this would not
enhance his attraction. Momentarily he was ashamed by his lack of control.
          'I apologise , Alexander, it won't happen again. You don't look
at all well. I wish you did not drink so much, it is ruining your health.'
          Her comment hit
a raw nerve. This was the outside of enough. How dare she criticise him . 'Madam, let us get this quite clear. If
something similar occurs again don't expect me to be so lenient.'
          He gulped, he must get to his own room before he disgraced
himself.
    ****
    Isobel watched him go and her heart twisted.
Her husband was no longer the man she had fallen in love with. He was gambling
heavily as well as drinking too much. How long would it be before he was
unfaithful? As she curled up under the covers she prayed his threat was an idle
one, something he would regret when he was sober. She good forgive his drunkenness, but if ever he mistreated her she would hate him. All hope
would be gone. She would let him go to the devil anyway he chose.
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
    When the unwanted house guests and her husband
departed, Isobel thanked God that the snow had not been enough to deter them from
returning to London. With luck he would remain in Grosvenor Square until the
end of the season and leave her in peace. She consoled herself by writing long,
quite inaccurate and untruthful, letters to her cousin Petunia and her parents.
          Mama no longer
enquired if she was increasing and appeared to have accepted the disappointing
situation. Papa no doubt worried that Alexander might demand his money back as
his wife had failed to fulfill her part of the bargain. Her only solace was
riding and having her faithful friends close by. She visited them more
frequently as time passed. Indeed, Sam and Mary's cottage was more a home to
her than Newcomb.
          The summer she
spent alone, Alexander away on the continent so his man of business, Mr Hill, informed her. It was some consolation that the
younger members of staff, those that had not been working at Newcomb forever,
were now eager to serve her and she was slightly more at ease.
          October came
around again with the news that two dozen or more guests were expected. There
would, this time, be several wives accompanying the gentlemen. It would be
pleasant to have someone to talk to, other than Mary. Several times she had
been tempted to send out cards to the nearby houses but did not like to go
against her husband's wishes in this matter.
    She waited nervously in the
vestibule to greet him. It had been more than six months since he'd been home.
Had he changed as much as she? When Foster bowed him in her eyes widened in
shock. Who was this stranger shrugging off his top coat? She scarcely
recognized him. His eyes were bloodshot, his face puffy and unhealthy and she
was certain his hand had been unsteady when he'd held it out.
          Curtseying
deeply in order to avoid the necessity of meeting his eyes— she must school her
features and not let him see how dismayed she was. 'Welcome, your grace, it's
been too long since you came home.'
          She straightened
to see him staring at her as if he could not quiet place who she was. He nodded. 'You have lost weight, Isobel. It does not suit you.'
          With these few
terse words he strolled off towards the drawing-room leaving her to greet his
guests as they appeared. By the time the