Chapter 25
“What do you think?” Isolde asked Annora, biting her lip and considering the clock on the mantle. They had been in Isolde’s room for nearly an hour, but the night was still young, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to return to the ball or not.
“Well …” Annora said, thinking, “I think first of all, you should go with what you want. You’ve had a harrowing evening, and no one could blame you for simply going to bed.
Or, if you wanted, for going back down to the ball to dance and enjoy yourself.
It’s entirely up to you. But …” and Annora got a bit of a twinkle in her eye, “if you’re having trouble deciding, I do think it’s a shame that Thaddeus was up and about for the first time in days – and clearly looking for you in the ballroom –”
“You can’t be sure of that –”
“I can, and I am, and don’t interrupt, darling. My point is, if you’re unsure, perhaps there’s no time like the present to try to get a moment alone with your fiancé. Hmmm? What do you say?”
Isolde considered it. Annora wasn’t wrong. But she couldn’t help wondering if it would be better to take the night to rest.
She still felt a little shaken from the garden. Thaddeus would still be there in the morning, and what’s more, tomorrow the guests would go home. It would be much easier to speak to him about things when everyone was gone.
Then again, though Annora assured her that Henry would make sure Crowley was gone, that wouldn’t necessarily stop him and her father from going through with Crowley’s engagement to Cornelia. And time was of the essence, in that case.
A sudden flurry of activity in the hall interrupted Isolde’s deliberation. She and Annora exchanged curious glances, and Annora popped up to open the door. No sooner had she swung it open than a maid appeared.
“Beggin’ your pardon, miss, but as the door was already open –”
“What is it?” Isolde asked, standing. Something about the maid’s face scared her.
“They’ve sent me to fetch you, Miss Fairchild. It’s your father. He’s taken ill in the ballroom.”
Isolde felt her heart drop and her whole body go cold.
***
The next hour was a bewildering whirl of activity and emotions.
The ball ended early, of course, but as all the guests made their way back to their rooms, Isolde followed the maid down to the bedroom where they’d put her father.
The doctor was called and appeared promptly, sending everyone back out of the room while he examined her father.
She stood in the hallway, looking at Cornelia and Thomas across from her, their faces mirroring her own complex emotions. It had been years since she had relied on their father for anything, but now that he was ill, she suddenly felt it was too soon to lose him.
The doctor emerged looking grave and quietly asked to speak with her. She followed him into the bedroom, and he closed the door.
“I’m afraid it’s his heart, my dear,” the man said.
He had a kind face, and Isolde could tell he hated to be the one to break this news to her.
“It’s very weak, and this episode was a close call.
And unfortunately … there is no easy way to say this, but in my professional opinion, he may not survive the night. ”
Isolde felt faint, and the doctor guided her to a chair.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked. She shook her head.
“Please, if I could just have a moment alone,” she whispered.
“Very well,” he said. “Do I have your permission to tell your brother and sister?” She nodded numbly. Some voice whispered that she ought to be the one to tell them, but she wasn’t sure she could get the words out.
The doctor left, and Isolde felt as though she was drowning. It hit her all at once that she’d always hoped deep in her heart that her father would change his ways.
That someday, he would come to his senses and become the man she remembered very dimly from her early days. The one who had laughed and scooped her up in his arms. The one he had been before her mother had died.
What a foolish hope, she thought. He hadn’t been that man for most of her life, for so long that she could barely remember that person.
And yet, she had been waiting for him to come back – to be a father to her again.
And now, he likely never would. He may not see the dawn tomorrow, and she would be without a father, really and truly.
Thomas and Cornelia crept into the room. Cornelia was crying quietly, and Thomas only leant down to hug her silently. She hugged him back, then got up and hugged Cornelia.
“The two of you should get some sleep,” she said, taking both their hands.
“Izzy, we won’t leave you!” Cornelia protested.
“Don’t be silly,” she said, putting on a brave face. “There’s no reason for all of us to lose sleep. I’ll send for you if he gets worse. Please,” she said, seeing the stubbornness on Thomas’s face. “I’ll feel better if I know you’re resting.”
They begrudgingly let her usher them into the hallway, with Thomas making her promise she would wake him if she got too tired. She returned to her father’s bedside, overwhelmed by her thoughts. She pushed them all away and let herself sink into numbness.
She didn’t know how much later it was when there was a soft knock on the door. She slowly got up and went to open it. Thaddeus was on the other side.
“Miss Fairchild,” he said quietly. “I would speak with you, but I don’t wish to disturb your father. Can you come out for a moment?”
She nodded, almost on instinct. All the drama with Thaddeus seemed far away at the moment.
“I’m sorry for bothering you, and I shall make this quick.
I only wanted to ease your mind about Lord Crowley.
Henry told me what happened, and he’s been sent away.
He’ll never set foot in Hartington again, I assure you.
And also …” Thaddeus hesitated, but pressed on, “I know it’s a delicate matter, especially at the given moment, but I wanted to be sure you weren’t worried about any of your father’s debts.
I already told Thomas, I shall sort them out.
And when your father is better, we shall speak of what we might do about his gambling habit.
Not now, of course. Now, you should just stay with him.
I only wanted to …” He seemed to search for the right words.
“I hoped to bring you some small comfort, in this moment.”
Isolde stared up at him, barely registering his words but thinking that he was so kind to want to comfort her. She wished she felt comforted.
“How is your father?” he asked gently. And she tried to tell him, but it felt impossible to say aloud, that he was hanging in the balance between life and death, that by tomorrow she might be an orphan. Her mouth refused the words, and so she just stared up at Thaddeus’s kind face and began to cry.
Thaddeus immediately wrapped her up in his arms, and the warmth of his embrace seemed to give her permission to fall apart, so she buried her face into his chest and sobbed. She felt a terrible ache in her heart, yet somehow, crying like this in his arms made her feel less hopeless.
He held her for a long time, until she stopped crying and then longer still. She wondered if he would hold her until she asked him to stop. She never wanted to ask him to stop.
Somewhere far away, in another of the guest room hallways, a woman laughed, and the moment was shattered. Isolde remembered everything that was going on, every obstacle that had come between them.
She thought of all those times she’d seen Lady Bradshaw come out of his room, and she wondered if he’d ever held her like this.
She pulled away from Thaddeus, and after a moment, he loosened his embrace, like he was reluctant to let her go.
“Why?” she finally was able to ask, and Thaddeus frowned.
“Why what, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Why are you here with me, like this? I know you’ve been spending time with Lady Bradshaw. I know everyone sees her as the better match for you.”
A tormented expression crossed Thaddeus’s face.
“Miss Fairchild –”
“You needn’t explain,” Isolde said, taking another step back. “This was the plan all along. I would find someone else. And you would be free to find someone, too. I did not expect you to find them while we were still engaged, but clearly you have. So why are you here with me?”
Thaddeus looked miserable.
“Miss Fairchild, please … You have misunderstood completely. And I can hardly blame you. In fact, it is only I who is to blame. I should have tried harder to be sure we had time alone. I should have spoken more clearly of my feelings. That night in my room, I should have insisted on telling you everything right then.”
Isolde stared up at him, her heart beating wildly. She wanted to believe him that she’d misunderstood. She wanted to throw herself back into his arms. He was looking at her with such tenderness, such affection, and she wanted more than anything to accept it, to fall into it.
But doubts still whispered in her mind, and she suddenly felt she couldn’t be sure of anything. Her father was ill; her family was near ruin – what sort of man would want a woman like that?
A woman whose whole life was falling apart, who could barely take care of her own small family, let alone a huge estate like Hartington? He said she had misunderstood, but hadn’t she seen Lady Bradshaw basically take over as mistress of the house with her own eyes?
Her head was spinning, and it suddenly felt hard to breathe. She felt unsteady on her feet.
“Please, Miss Fairchild …” he murmured, reaching out but not touching her. “Isolde …” he whispered beseechingly. “I must tell you; I must explain. I need you to know –”
A cry from the bedroom interrupted them – her father, calling out in his sleep. Isolde looked to the door, and he called out again. She should go to him. It was her duty, as always.
She looked back at Thaddeus, whose hand was still reaching for her. She didn’t want to go to her father. She wanted to take Thaddeus’s hand. But she was terrified of falling, and him not catching her. Hadn’t she learned long before this, that no one would catch her?
It was all too much, had been too much, for too long.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, taking another step back, her hand finding the doorknob behind her. “My father’s calling. I must go.”
She opened the door and stepped through, closing it hastily behind her. On instinct she went toward the bed, but it felt as though she had left her heart in the hallway, and though her cheeks burned at her own cowardice, she could not convince herself to go back for it.