Ice Angel by Elizabeth Hanbury Page B

I knew that was fudge and you wouldn’t mind.’ Dominic hiccupped on a sob. ‘Please come and help me – no one else knows what to do.’
    ‘Pray don’t get upset, love,’ said Isabella, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘When our visitors have left, I shall come upstairs and—’
    ‘Please do not let us detain you, Lady Vane,’ interjected Lord Bramwell gently. ‘Can we assist in any way?’
    Dominic regarded Lord Bramwell through tear-drenched lashes. He sniffed and said, ‘Can you catch parrots, sir? I should be grateful if you can; Jemima is very quick and even Mama finds it difficult getting her back to her cage.’
    ‘Dominic!’ muttered Isabella, horrified. ‘This is Lord Bramwell and his sister – you must not ask for their help with something so trivial.’
    ‘On the contrary, I have no further engagements until this afternoon and am happy to place myself at your son’s disposal.’ Hal turned to his sister, his lips curved in amusement. ‘Are you willing to help this young gentleman retrieve his errant parrot, Julia?’
    ‘But of course,’ she cried.
    ‘Then we are at your service, Master Dominic,’ said Lord Bramwell, bowing. ‘Lead us to the scene of this domestic crisis.’
    Smiling broadly at this offer of help from an unexpected but impressive-looking source, Dominic showed no restraint; he took Lord Bramwell firmly by the hand and led the way. Following on behind with Julia, Isabella found herself incredulous at this sudden turn of events. Lord Bramwell had been on the point of leaving, and now Dominic was taking him to catch a parrot and retrieve a stranded kitten. She could scarcely believe a leader of the ton had agreed – he must surely be wishing himself elsewhere – and yet, to his credit, he had not questioned the situation and seemed prepared to indulge a small child he had only just met.
    The scene that greeted them in the room at the back of the house that served for a sitting-room would have been highly amusing to Isabella had she been alone. However, in the presence of Lord Bramwell and his sister, she struggled with acute embarrassment – her first impression was that the whole household had gathered to create an unedifying spectacle for her visitors.
    Two junior footmen and a chambermaid were trying energetically to entice the frightened kitten down from the mantelpiece, from where several china ornaments had been dislodged and now lay in fragments on the rug in front of the fireplace. The ornate clock in the centre of the shelf hovered precariously on the edge, in danger of following the china to the floor, while the feline perpetrator of this destruction spat angrily at anyone who approached his position behind a large silver candelabrum.
    A disgruntled Jemima sat on top of the brocade curtains regarding the animated tableau below with bored disgust, alternately squawking or reciting ‘bacon-brained gudgeon’ to her audience; Mary was trying to comfort Harriet, who sat on the sofa, while Silwood observed in a disapproving tone that Lady Bingham’s town residence was completely unsuitable for such wild creatures, and he feared for the expensive Chinese vase beneath the teetering clock.
    At the appearance of Isabella and her guests, however, a silence fell over the assembled company.
    Harriet, perceiving their visitors had been somehow dragged into this unfortunate scene, rose to her feet, saying hurriedly, ‘Oh! Lord Bramwell, there was not the least need to trouble yourself.’
    ‘On the contrary, Mrs Forster, my sister and I offered our services willingly,’ he replied.
    ‘Oh, a-and Lady Julia,’ said Harriet, becoming more agitated by the minute, ‘a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I beg you – do not think we always go along in this manner. Indeed, Dominic’s pets are normally quite well behaved – it is only because of unfortunate circumstances that Jemima took fright and you perceive the results of the chase that followed. Oh dear!’