Chapter 26
Thaddeus paced around his room, furious with himself. He had come so close to telling Isolde the truth, yet he still hadn’t managed it.
And of course, it was terrible timing, with her father’s illness, but he couldn’t help chastising himself for all the times in the past he could have told her and didn’t. He should have told her as soon as he’d realized.
He should have sent the letter or told her that night when she’d kissed him up on his return.
He should have picked a better spot than the orangery, somewhere they’d have been sure not to be disturbed.
He should have called after her that night when she left his room, not waiting for her to come back.
He could not stand still, and the more he paced, the more his irritation grew – so it was particularly bad timing when he answered the knock on his door and Cassian pushed his way into the room.
“Harrow, forgive me – I know the timing is bad, but we must talk. You’ve been playing games with Vivienne, and I’ve had enough.”
Thaddeus stared at his friend, mouth open in shock. He’d been playing games with Vivienne?
“I beg your pardon?” he snapped.
“I’ve just left her. She came to me in tears, wondering why you would lead her on only to keep shoving her aside.”
Thaddeus bristled.
“I’ve done nothing of the sort.”
“She says you have. That you are always looking at her and flirting with her, and yet you will suddenly grow cold and not want anything to do with her. Why, just earlier tonight you asked her to dance and then left her, partnerless, in the middle of the ballroom.”
Thaddeus could hardly believe his ears. Did Cassian really not remember that it had been his suggestion that Thaddeus dance with Vivienne? And surely he could not be blamed for going after his own fiancée?
“You must either stop this, or you must step up and take accountability for your actions,” Cassian continued. “I won’t have her reputation ruined by some frivolous dalliance in the gardens with you.”
“And how,” Thaddeus asked, getting angrier, “do you propose I take accountability for my actions?”
Cassian looked at him as though he was very dense.
“Break your fake engagement and make a proper proposal to Vivienne, of course.”
Thaddeus glowered at Cassian.
“That won’t be happening,” he said. “First of all, I have not led your cousin on in the slightest. I’ve given her the minimum politeness demanded by common courtesy, which she has taken full advantage of at every turn.
I have struggled, in fact, to avoid her advances without breaching decorum.
Second, as you well know, or at least you should if you are truly my friend, my feelings for Miss Fairchild have been complicated from the start.
I have tried multiple times to speak with you on them – in fact, I would have loved to get your advice.
But you are only ever thinking of yourself, it seems.”
Thaddeus ended his tirade by turning away from Cassian to glare out the window instead. He heard Cassian huff out a sigh.
“What a waste of time,” Cassian muttered under his breath. Thaddeus felt a chill go down his spine, and he turned slowly back to his friend.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, throat suddenly tight. Cassian snapped his eyes to Thaddeus, suddenly looking nervous.
“By what?” he asked.
“What was a waste of time?” Thaddeus demanded. He could practically see Cassian’s mind searching for an answer to give him.
“Coming here,” he finally said, “to speak to you about this –”
“No,” Thaddeus said. “That’s not it. Tell me the truth.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassian said.
Thaddeus opened his mouth to press him further, but just then, there was a hurried knock on the door, and then, without waiting for a response, Henry rushed in.
“Thaddeus,” he said, “I thought you would want to know. I just heard from Miss White. Miss Fairchild’s father has died.”
All thoughts of this argument with Cassian immediately disappeared.
He barely even responded to Henry, just muttered a few words of thanks as he rushed past. His only thought was to find Isolde.
She had been so upset earlier – he could only imagine how she was feeling now.
And though he still wasn’t sure of her feelings, he knew he had to stay close to her, just in case she needed him.
He was halfway to her room when he ran into Thomas.
“Mr. Fairchild,” he said, stopping to grasp Thomas’s hand. “I’ve just heard the news of your father. I’m so very sorry.”
“Thank you, Lord Hartington,” Thomas said, gripping onto the hand Thaddeus had offered tightly. “It’s all a bit of a shock but …” Thomas suddenly seemed to think better of what he was about to say and went quiet.
“It’s all right,” Thaddeus said, lowering his voice. “It was a complicated situation. However you feel … it’s all right.”
Thomas nodded.
“I appreciate you saying that. I believe I shall miss him, even though I felt I barely knew the man he became at the end of his life. And I certainly didn’t expect it to happen here and now, but I can’t say it hadn’t crossed my mind, him going like this. His lifestyle was not a healthy one.”
Thomas’s eyes clouded over with sadness, and Thaddeus clapped him on the shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting, brotherly gesture.
“And perhaps,” Thomas whispered, “perhaps this will be a chance for our family. If we can pay off his debts, find a way to bring money into the estate again…”
“You’ll have whatever aid I can give you,” Thaddeus assured him.
“Thank you,” Thomas replied. He eyed Thaddeus, seeming to focus on him for the first time. He frowned. “I’m afraid you also look a bit shaken, My Lord. Is everything all right?”
“It’s nothing,” Thaddeus said.
“No, you must allow me to help you if you are going to help me. Please, tell me your troubles,” Thomas said. He smiled ruefully. “If only to distract me from my own for a moment.”
“Ah, well,” Thaddeus hesitated, but Thomas had asked … “It’s just Lord Cassian. He and I just had a row. But it’s not a big matter. Certainly not important in the light of everything else going on.”
“I see,” Thomas said. He also seemed to hesitate, then spoke again.
“It may be out of line for me to say, Lord Hartington, and I acknowledge Lord Cassian is your friend, but I must say … I have gotten an odd feeling about him. A few of the things he’s said to Isolde especially …
I just felt perhaps he wasn’t to be trusted. ”
In a way, Thaddeus was relieved to know that he wasn’t the only one who found Cassian’s version of events lately to be suspicious. But it hurt to think that perhaps his friend wasn’t just thoughtless and unobservant but perhaps purposefully deceptive.
“You’re not out of line, Fairchild,” he said. “I appreciate you telling me.”
The words “to Isolde, especially” made him wonder what exactly had been going on behind his back these past few days. He still needed to talk to Isolde. But first, he needed just to be there for her in her grief.
“I beg your pardon, but I hope you won’t mind if I go to find your sister? I want to be sure she’s well taken care of.”
Thomas smiled at him.
“Nothing would make me happier than to know Isolde is well taken care of – she deserves it. And I fear she will have the hardest time with our father’s passing.
She could never truly stop loving him. She knew him the longest before, when he was better.
She could never let him go. And she always felt so duty-bound to him. ”
Even when he bet her future and lost it to a stranger, Thaddeus thought with a twinge of guilt.
“Then I’ll go to her now,” Thaddeus said. “And please, if you or Miss Cornelia need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m here for all of you.”
Thomas thanked him again, and the two parted, with Thaddeus heading again for Isolde’s room. As he neared her corridor, though, he heard raised voices nearby. He followed the voices and found Cassian and Vivienne tucked into an alcove, arguing.
When Vivienne looked up and saw him, she grabbed Cassian’s arm, and they both went quiet.
“No need to stop on my account,” he said bitterly, turning to leave them to it.
“Stop what?” Vivienne asked, too brightly. She followed him. “How are you, My Lord? I hope your recovery is holding. We must plan to continue the dance that was interrupted.”
Thaddeus thought even for her that was a little too forward and too callous.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I have no time to speak with you, as I’m looking for Isolde.”
“Do you think that’s wise, My Lord?” Vivienne asked sweetly, and he stopped, amazed that she was still trying to engage in conversation with him. He turned to her.
“Why not?” he asked, his tone icy.
“I only meant …” Vivienne seemed to hesitate. “Perhaps she prefers to be alone in her grief. She seems the type.”
“Does she?” Thaddeus asked. Perhaps Vivienne sensed danger because she didn’t answer. “I think, Lady Bradshaw, that you have misunderstood a good many things, the character of my fiancée being one of them. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t take your advice. Good day.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and went in search of Isolde.