Chapter 19 #2
As she turned away, she heard Crowley laughing again.
“Poor thing, do they not even send the servants to keep you apprised of the household goings on? Dinner has been cancelled because of Lord Hartington’s accident. Guests are being served a light supper in their rooms and are free to amuse themselves however they wish for the evening.”
Isolde felt the sting of his words but was determined he shouldn’t know that. She lifted her chin as she turned on her heel and marched past him back to her room.
“Since we have the evening free, I will happily overlook your appalling attitude if you wish to discuss my proposal further,” he said as she went.
His voice crawled down her spine like something disgusting, and she barely resisted shuddering. She opened her door and then turned to face him.
“Lord Crowley, I have no desire to speak with you further, now or ever. I’ll thank you to remember that,” she said and shut the door in his face.
***
It took longer than she would have liked to shake off the feeling of disgust that the conversation with Crowley had given her.
Supper was brought to her room, and she pondered asking Annora or Cornelia to come eat with her, but then she decided to spend the time carefully thinking through what she should do next.
She concluded that her idea earlier had been right – the first thing she needed to do was speak to Thaddeus in person.
Everything else depended on how he felt about her.
Her hunger sated, she decided that her plan should remain the same – true, there was no after dinner entertainment to distract the guests, and everyone was scattered throughout the house, so someone might see her if she went to Thaddeus’s room. If they did, however, was that such a terrible thing?
After all, she was engaged to him. Surely it made sense for a fiancée to visit her intended, especially after an accident like this. In fact, it was probably more suspicious that she hadn’t been to see him yet.
So she made her way through the house, feeling determined, even if nerves jittered through her body.
All I have to do is talk to him. I can do that.
She turned the corner onto Thaddeus’s hallway with a sigh of relief. Somehow, journeying through the house waiting to run into one of the guests, who might question or waylay her, seemed like it was the hardest part.
She realized that it wasn’t talking to Thaddeus himself that made her nervous – she was actually anxious to speak to him. It was all the other barriers that seemed to be constantly getting in their way.
The other people who seemed determined to separate them, and their own seeming inability to communicate, even when they had the rare opportunity to do so.
The closer she got to Thaddeus’s door, the more confident she felt that once she was able to talk to him, truly talk to him, everything would be okay.
Her steps became lighter, and she felt herself even start to smile a little. She reached Thaddeus’s door and eagerly put her hand on the doorknob before she hesitated. Sudden nerves made her heart beat faster, but she took a deep breath and told herself to be bold.
If she didn’t open this door, she would never know what might have been between them. She took another deep breath and turned the doorknob.
The room was quiet, and the curtains were drawn, so the room was bathed in warm firelight. She opened her mouth to announce herself but then thought better of it – Thaddeus might be sleeping.
She tiptoed forward to peer into the room. Her suspicion seemed correct. Thaddeus lay still in a large bed against the far wall.
She knew she should leave and come back when he was awake. It certainly wasn’t proper or polite to be in his room while he was asleep. And yet, now that she’d seen him, she felt a compulsion to draw closer.
She hadn’t even been able to properly look at him that day in the lodge. Perhaps it would be okay simply to glance quickly at him. Just to assure herself that he was on the mend, no longer in any danger.
She crept up to the side of the bed, as close as she dared. He lay very still, apparently in deep sleep, and the firelight danced across his features.
She was struck again by how handsome he was. Strands of hair had fallen onto his forehead, which was faintly dewed with sweat. Instinctively, she reached up to brush the hair away. His forehead felt a little hot, and she looked around the room for a cool cloth.
Surely if she were gentle, he wouldn’t wake. She would feel bad if she just left him here like this. She couldn’t spot the basin or a cloth, and she shifted her gaze to peer across the bed to the other side of the room.
“Isolde ...”
She froze, the sound of Thaddeus saying her name sending a thrill of excitement – and fear – up her spine. She looked down to see his warm brown eyes locked on her.
“My Lord!” she squeaked out, embarrassed. What must he think of her? “I beg your pardon, I was just –”
Thaddeus reached out and put his hand on hers, causing her to stop short. She stared down at their two hands, and then, heart thudding in her ears, carefully turned her hand to entwine her fingers with his.
He squeezed her hand gently. She looked back into his eyes, and there was a look in them that she could not name, but it made heat rise to her cheeks.
“You came …” he whispered.
“Where you waiting for me?” she whispered back. He didn’t answer but just stared at her with that same look in his eyes. Isolde thought she might melt if he kept looking at her like that. All manner of inappropriate thoughts flitted through her head.
Flustered, she tried to think of something to fill the silence before she made a fool of herself.
“You must be bored, alone here by yourself,” she babbled. “Shall I read to you?” She cast her eyes about the room and found no books. “I have a book in my room I think you would like, let me go fetch it.”
She stood up, but he kept her hand in his, holding tightly. She looked down at it and couldn’t help smiling. She squeezed his fingers before letting go.
“I shall come right back, don’t worry,” she said, and giving him one last smile, she hurried to the door.
In the hallway, away from his gaze, she felt a bit of her sense return to her.
I was supposed to talk to him about our relationship, she scolded herself as she hurried through the hallway to her room. Still, she couldn’t help feeling that somehow, even though they’d said barely anything to each other, progress had been made.
As she made her way back to his room with the book in her hand, she told herself that after they read for a while, she would mention the topic of their relationship.
Yes, that will be better. I’ll ease into the conversation.
She was practically skipping down the hallway toward his door when the door opened and Lord Cassian stepped out. Isolde skidded to a stop.
“Ah, Miss Fairchild. Come to visit?” he said, smiling at her. She nodded, clutching the book to her chest.
“And brought something for him to read, I see. How kind you are. Unfortunately, he’s just told me he is tired and doesn’t wish to be disturbed.”
“But –” Isolde frowned in confusion.
“I’m sure you wish to see him, but I promise he is doing well. Of course, I would make an exception for his lovely fiancée, but I did just promise him I would not let anyone in. If you want to leave the book, though, I shall give it to him.”
Lord Cassian held out his hand, and Isolde instinctively held the book tighter. Lord Cassian must be confused. And she had promised Thaddeus she would be right back. She wouldn’t break that promise.
She squared her shoulders and opened her mouth to insist she be let in, even if just to give the book to Thaddeus herself. But just then, the door opened again, and Lady Bradshaw put her head out.
“Reginald, can you get me some water to –” she said in a soft voice, and then saw Isolde. “Oh, Miss Fairchild. How sweet of you to visit. Unfortunately, just now Lord Hartington –”
“Doesn’t want to be disturbed,” Isolde finished for her, a bitter taste in her mouth and tears threatening at her eyes. Lord Cassian still had his hand out for the book, but she stepped back, away from both of them. “I understand.” And she turned and fled back toward her room.
As she went, she tried to tell herself that she had misunderstood, that there had to be some explanation. But try as she might, she could find no other conclusion but that Thaddeus wished to be alone with Lady Bradshaw and had asked Lord Cassian to lie to keep everyone else away.
Everyone else, and especially her. She thought back to the look in Thaddeus’s eyes, the way he had seemed to cling to her hand.
How could I have misread that moment so badly?