Chapter 30
The morning after the ball, Ronan crossed the hall to Isla’s door only to find it closed. He was about to knock when her maid, Doreen, stepped out.
“How is she?” He asked hopefully.
“A little better,” Doreen said before hesitating. “She doesn’t seem very ill, only… unwell.”
He crossed his arms with a frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I can’t explain it. She has no complaints or unmet needs. She hardly slept and isn’t hearing a word I say. Perhaps it’s simply an awful migraine?”
That didn’t sound right to Ronan. Isla had complained of stomach ailments last night, not a headache. They had left after he finished talking with Lord Elroy, when he found her in the hall looking pale.
Everything had been going so well. If only he hadn’t left her side. When he returned them home, she refused a physician and went off to bed without another word.
He pulled out his pocket watch. Normally Isla was up. He would be late for his appointments if he didn’t leave soon.
“See to it she has anything she needs. If she’s not on her feet by afternoon tea, call the physician,” he instructed. “I’ll return home for supper. Otherwise I’ll send word, understood?”
Doreen reassured him, “I’ll do everything I can for Her Grace.”
Ronan took once last glance at the door, wondering what Isla would do if he strode right through to check on her. He wanted to return them to the perfect moment leading up to their dance last night. Maybe that would help her feel better.
Later. When I come home, all will be right again. I’m sure of it.
Ronan inhaled deeply as he left the house. All was well between him and Isla. Better than it had ever been, better than he had ever dared to hope.
Perhaps that was it. He found himself distracted by the notion through his countless meetings and Parliament sessions for the day, considering the lightness in his chest. Was it really hope? Could it be anything more?
After losing so much in his life, the thought of clinging to anything more left him uneasy and hesitant. But keeping Isla at a distance was never going to work. She had burrowed into his heart and soul.
I won’t keep cowering through this life, shutting everything out. I was a fool to think it otherwise. It’s time I made up for my mistakes. It’s time we planned a future together.
He was impatient for the day to end, finally hurrying home. The first thing Ronan asked a passing chambermaid was, “Is the duchess up?”
“Yes, Your Grace, she’s packing with her maid.”
That made him stumble. “Packing?”
The two of them stared at one another for a moment, both clearly confused, until he bounded off toward Isla’s bed chamber.
The door was open and there were three trunks strewn about the room alongside several personal items of Isla’s. He frowned at the sight in confusion, but couldn’t find anyone in the room.
Ronan checked three more rooms before giving up, asking the footmen to have Isla come to him should they eventually find her.
In the meantime, he went off to his study to manage a few papers and letters while he waited. There was much that had happened today, and he didn’t want to forget anything. Ronan removed his coat, sitting down to write three letters before there was a knock at his door.
Relief washed over him when Isla stepped in.
Standing, Ronan rounded the desk to see that she looked better than last night. He hoped. There were circles under her eyes but she was presentable and calm.
“Isla. There you are,” he said warmly. “How are you?”
“I’m… all right. And you?”
He tilted his head, feeling like something was off by her tone. He willed her to smile for him, to feel well. “Better now that I am seeing you. I was worried. Was the port too much?”
“I was… the port was fine. I’m better now.”
“Very good, I’m glad to hear that. It’s nearly time for supper. Will you join me in the dining room?” He asked her. “I heard we’ll enjoy a fine spot of lamb.”
Isla turned away with a shaky breath. “I’m afraid not. I need to go.”
“Go? Where?”
“Away.”
A chuckle escaped before Ronan. “That’s rather vague, Isla. Where do you wish to go? Scotland? France? We could go see your sisters tomorrow, if you like. I just cleared my schedule, and I thought––”
“I’m going alone and I’m not coming back.” Isla spoke loudly as she finally met his gaze.
He left his mouth hanging open.
Words slipped into his mind and kept slipping away. They wouldn’t stick. He couldn’t make them. They didn’t make any sense. Why would they mean anything? That wasn’t possible. She wasn’t going to leave him. Was she?
“I… don’t think I understand,” Ronan forced himself to say.
“You said I would always have a choice, didn’t you?” Isla barreled on in an unfamiliar harsh tone that left him confused and hurt. When you offered to marry me, you said I could do as I like.”
“Well, yes,” he said.
But I never thought I would hear her say… this.
“Then this is over.” Isla lifted her chin. “We can sort out an official divorce later, if you would prefer. But I’m ending this… this farce of a marriage. Neither of us wanted it, after all. It’s time we were honest with ourselves. Since you won’t do it, I will.”
Blustering, Ronan struggled to make sense of her words. “What the devil are you saying? I never said I wanted to end this.”
“You never cared for it. You didn’t even know me when I attempted to seal this union. I used your name and I’m freeing you of it all. I would think you would be happy,” Isla pushed.
Heat flooded his face as he stared at her. The bewilderment gave to angry confusion. “I’m not happy!”
“Neither am I, so I will leave.”
“Hold up, that’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he said as he pointed a finger at her. “What do you think you’re doing? I don’t know where this madness even came from.”
“You never did understand me.”
“I am trying!”
Isla huffed and looked away. “This is ridiculous. It’s clearly for the best.”
“For the best?” Ronan echoed in disbelief. He rubbed his chest and shook his head. “What is happening? One of us has clearly lost their minds. You care for me, and I care for you! Why would you leave me? What has changed?”
When he started toward her, Isla flinched. The reaction made him freeze. She’d never behaved like that toward him before. Did she think he would hurt her? His hands balled into fists as a storm of wild emotions swarmed inside of his soul.
“It’s merely time,” Isla snapped through gritted teeth.
“Time for what? We were dancing just last night,” he ground out. “I danced for you; you wanted to dance, too. I know it.”
“You don’t know anything!” She retorted.
“Wait!” Ronan called when she started back toward the door. She wouldn’t even give him the decency of looking him in the eye any longer. Panic swept through him. “At least tell me why.”
She merely shook her head.
“No?” He shouted. “You won’t say it, or you don’t have a reason? This isn’t a game, Isla! What the devil has happened? Are you scared? Is that it?”
Isla’s hand shook as she touched the door. “Only a fool isn’t scared,” she muttered. It sounded like nothing but a riddle to him.
Tugging at his hair, Ronan felt like he was suffocating. He removed the cravat. He grabbed the nearest thing, a book, and threw it against the bookcase in frustration before turning back to her. Isla wasn’t even trying to do anything. She wasn’t trying to stay, wasn’t trying to talk to him.
“I’m willing to fight for us,” he growled in frustration. “Why aren’t you? Talk to me!”
“I never wanted this,” Isla told him suddenly. “I never wanted you.”
A strangled sound escaped him. His body was limp and useless as he looked in disbelief. He didn’t want to believe a word she just said. But it hurt. There was a knife twisting in his heart. He couldn’t take it out. All he could do was watch.
Her head ducked down so she couldn’t look at him. No, so he couldn’t see her. Like she was denying him one last glance. “Good bye, Your Grace.”
A strangled groan escaped him. She couldn’t even say his name. “Fine! Leave! Get out of my sight!” Then he collapsed on the nearest chair, the fallen book at his feet, feeling awfully alone.
Numbness spread from his heart through to his toes, the tips his fingers, and the top of his head. He sat there in the chair unmoving for hours. Whether anyone came by, Ronan never noticed.
The evening passed into morning.
He struggled to his feet eventually and went to the stables. A ride would help clear his mind. Ronan saddled his horse before taking his leave, never bothering to change.
His world was crashing down around him. He couldn’t get Isla’s words out of his mind. Though he had tamped down the emotions, there was the threat of something heavy inside his soul.
Nothing felt right. It didn’t make any sense. Ever since his sister’s death, Ronan had been so careful to close himself to the world. But then he’d brought Isla into his life. He had dared to hope.
She left me. Everyone leaves me.
It wasn’t long before he had left London behind for his estate.
“Your Grace, back so soon?” Hobbes asked cheerfully upon Ronan’s arrival. The butler’s cheer hesitated when he looked at him. “Oh dear. Is something wrong?”
“I need to be alone. Leave me be.” Ronan brushed past him, starting down the hall. He meant to go to his rooms to collapse in an empty sleep if he could manage it.
But he stopped in the large hall with the tall windows that revealed a corner of the garden. He noticed Anne first, smelling the flowers. And where he found Anne would surely be…
There was Oliver, spinning in a circle with a wide smile on his face.
Ronan stopped. He slowly dropped to his knees as he realized he wasn’t the only one who was going to be hurt. What had he done? How had he left Isla leave? For this, Oliver would be the one to pay the price.