Chapter Eleven
HALE RAN A HAND THROUGH his hair as he let out a loud breath. It felt as if Isabella had picked up a boulder and flung it straight at his stomach.
He could hardly make sense of what she’d said—mostly because it was the last thing he’d expected to hear.
“You’re telling me your father and your brothers are thieves?” he finally said.
Isabella visibly winced. “They aren’t thieves.” She paused “Yes, I suppose some people might see it that way, but we—they didn’t keep the money.”
“They didn’t?”
Isabella ignored the skeptical tone to Hale’s words.
“No, that money was for people who needed it. Widowed mothers with children, men with families who couldn’t work, orphans, people who were ill .
. . Don’t you see? He wanted to make their lives better, and the people who had the money didn’t really miss it. They didn’t need it.”
Hale leaned forward, rubbing his temples. A headache was beginning to claw its way in. When he looked back up at Isabella, she appeared as innocent as she always had.
She believed exactly what she was saying.
He drew in a steadying breath and let it out. “All right. Suppose all of that is true—”
“It is,” she said quickly.
He held up a hand. He’d parse through that argument later. “Suppose it is. What happened?”
Isabella finally sat down, perched like a bird on the edge of the bed. “They were arrested. There was a trial, and now they’re in prison. Although I’m uncertain about one of my brothers, Carter. He was badly injured, although he was supposedly on the mend when I left.”
Hale raised his eyebrows. There was more to that part of the story for certain. “Go on.”
Isabella pressed her hands between her knees. Her voice trembled a bit when she spoke. “Before I left, I learned the only way they could be released is if the judge’s decision is appealed. If it is, and that’s successful, they could return home.”
Hale stared at her. She’d just admitted her family was guilty of stealing. There was no possible way a judge could find them innocent. “You want to appeal the decision?”
“Yes.” Izzy nodded with a hopeful smile. “I’d have to find a lawyer—the one I hired for the first trial took all of the money I had and ran off. I’d need to find a good, honest one this time. And I’d need . . .”
“Money,” he finished for her in a flat voice.
“Yes.”
The little bit of hope he’d been holding onto in his heart threatened to shatter. He stood and paced across the room. “You kept all of this from me.” He couldn’t say she’d lied. She hadn’t really; she simply hadn’t told him the entire truth.
“I know, and I am sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you, and I knew if I told you before we married that you wouldn’t want to marry me at all. And I very much wished to marry you.” She looked up at him with earnest eyes.
And maybe he was a fool, but he believed her. The truth of her words was written all over her face. From the first moment he met her, Hale could tell exactly what she was feeling, and right now, she was ashamed. But she was also hopeful. There wasn’t a shred of malevolence to be found.
“Isabella?” he said, keeping some distance between them as he spoke.
She turned that hopeful gaze toward him.
“Did you marry me because you thought I’d give you money for this endeavor?” He stood aloof, needing to know the answer but not wanting to hear it at the same time.
Isabella didn’t look away. “Yes, and also no. I looked for gentlemen such as yourself who seemed settled and comfortable, but I also wanted safety and a good life. And then I met you, and you made any hesitations I had for myself about marriage go away. I wanted to marry you.”
He had no doubt she was telling the truth. It was far too honest a reply. And it hurt. No matter how she felt about him now, he’d been nothing but a source of income she’d hoped would assist her in exonerating her outlaw family.
“It’s why I chose you, but it isn’t why I went through with the marriage,” she added. A tear slid from her eye, and Isabella quickly wiped it away.
But not before it deepened the crack in Hale’s heart. He should be angry with her, and he was, but he also hurt for her.
“I understand if you wish to no longer have me as your wife,” she said, pressing her shoulders back even as another tear escaped.
“Isabella.” Saying her name almost made it worse. The crack deepened. “I made a commitment to you, just as you made one to me. I don’t take that lightly. Is it fair to assume the reason you’re telling me all of this now is because you carry the same belief?”
She nodded, swiping at the corner of her eye again. “It felt wrong, not letting you know. Even if you don’t agree to help Papa and my brothers, I . . .” Her shoulders shook but she lifted her chin. “I’m not going anywhere, unless you want me to leave.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” he said softly. Against his better judgment, he stepped forward and used his thumb to brush away her tears.
“I’m so sorry, for all of this,” she said.
His hand hesitated against her face. It tore something apart inside him to see her so upset. What she’d done—or not done, really—didn’t matter anymore. She was devastated at the loss of her family and upset at herself. There was no going back and changing it.
“Come here,” he said in a gentle voice as he reached for her hands.
She let him pull her up, and he enfolded her into his arms, tucking her head against his chest.
“I may still be hurt that you didn’t tell me, but please don’t ever doubt that I’m a man of my word.” He closed his eyes as her arms wrapped around his back. “Let me think about what you’ve asked of me.”
She leaned back to look up at him. His hands rose to cup the sides of her face.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“From now on, please tell me about the things that worry you. All right?”
She nodded, then looked down. “I didn’t expect you to react so kindly.”
He’d surprised himself too. He ran his thumb over her cheek.
Why he felt the urge to kiss her right at that moment, he didn’t understand.
Maybe it was the way she looked at him when she raised her eyes to his, entirely trusting.
Or maybe it was the outpouring of emotion.
Perhaps it was simply that she needed him.
No one had ever needed him the way she did.
Her lips parted ever so slightly. Was she thinking about the same thing?
“Hale?” she whispered, and he nearly fell apart right then. In less than a second, he could pull her toward him, he could press his mouth to hers, he could put an end to the ache he’d carried since that chaste kiss in the church at their wedding.
“We ought to get some sleep.” She gave him a timid smile before slowly stepping away.
His hands fell, and the blood rushed against his ears. He nodded, feeling as if he’d just woken up.
Without a word, he stepped into the hallway where he closed the door and leaned against it.
He didn’t know what to think about the tale she’d spun. All he could think was that it was a good thing he believed that she believed every word she said, because clearly he was starting to lose every bit of sense he had when it came to Isabella Darby.
He only hoped he wouldn’t come to regret it.