Chapter 17 #2
“I am,” Richard confirmed. “I discovered her ruse almost immediately upon her arrival and confronted her. Once I learned the truth, I offered my assistance. We thought it was best to inform your betrothed, Adrian, somehow, as well. My assistance might not have been needed, but I could not stand idly by and allow an innocent woman to put herself in danger without at least ensuring someone was watching over her.”
“Adrian,” Valerie breathed, and for the first time since waking, a smile touched her lips. “Is he...?”
“He has not arrived yet,” Isobel said gently. “Though we expect him any day now. A letter was sent to inform him of the situation, but we are uncertain whether he received it before he set out on his journey here.”
Valerie's smile faded, replaced by worry. “He will be so frightened when he learns what happened. Adrian is... he tries to appear stern and composed, but he cares so deeply. This will devastate him.”
“Then all the more reason to find whoever is responsible before he arrives,” Richard said firmly.
“We have been investigating the guests, trying to determine who might have had motive and opportunity. We have some suspicions – identified some suspicious people, but nothing concrete has been found yet.”
“Who would want to harm me?” Valerie asked, her voice becoming small and bewildered. “I have tried to be kind to everyone, to never give offense. I do not understand why someone would do this.”
“We believe,” Isobel started carefully, “That the motive may be related to your marriage. Marrying the Duke of Norwich is a significant event – one that brings considerable prestige to our family. Someone may resent that, or wishes to prevent the union for reasons of their own.”
Valerie shook her head slowly. “But everyone has been so kind about the engagement. So supportive. I cannot imagine any of our guests harboring such... such malice.”
“People are very good at hiding their true intentions,” Richard said darkly. “Especially when those intentions are sinister.”
Valerie was quiet for a long moment, seemingly assimilating everything she had been told. Her face had gone impossibly paler, and Isobel worried that perhaps they had told her too much, too soon.
“Valerie,” she said softly, calling her sister’s attention to her, “You must rest. You have only just woken, and your body needs time to recover –”
“No,” Valerie interrupted, her voice gaining strength. “No, I need to help. If someone is trying to hurt me, if they have put you in danger by forcing you to pretend to be me, then I need to be involved in finding them.”
“Absolutely not,” Isobel told her firmly. “You are still weak, and you need to regain your strength. Besides, if the culprit learns about you and I – your slumber and my efforts to impersonate you, they may panic and try something even more drastic.”
“But you are in danger!” Valerie protested. “You are risking your life for me, for a sister you have only just met. I cannot allow –”
“You have no choice in the matter,” Isobel stated, her tone leaving no argument. “I am doing this, Valerie. Not just for you, but for all of us. For Cecil and Nora, who deserve to grow up without the shadow of this hanging over them. For our family, such as it is.”
She squeezed her sister's hand, realizing that she had grown awfully fond of holding Valerie’s hand.
She couldn’t help but wonder what they would have been like as children, consistently taking strolls together, unwilling to be apart for even a moment.
“And because you are my twin. My blood. And I will not stand by and allow someone to hurt you without consequences.”
Valerie's eyes filled with tears again. “But what if something happens to you? What if they hurt you instead?”
“They will not,” Isobel shook her head with more confidence than she felt.
“As the youngest among the family that raised me, I spent a lot of time with my brother, Graham, who was only a few years older than I was. Because I was around him quite often, I picked up a remarkable myriad of skills and talents. He taught me how to defend myself, how to fight if necessary. I am not as helpless as I may appear.”
“I do not doubt in my mind that you are not,” Richard said, and there was something in his voice – amusement mixed with something darker, something heated – that made Isobel's pulse quicken despite herself.
She hated that he could do that. Hated that even now, knowing he intended to marry another woman, knowing there was no future for whatever this was between them, her body still responded to him so viscerally. So easily.
She needed to forget about him. Needed to accept that he was never going to be hers and move on with her life.
But God, it was so difficult when he looked at her like that. When his gaze held hers with such intensity that she felt it like a physical touch.
“Nevertheless,” Valerie said, breaking the moment, “Please, Isobel. Be careful. I do not want to lose you now that I have only just found you.”
“I will be careful,” Isobel promised. “And this will all be over soon. You will marry Adrian, and we will both be safe, and you and I will have all the time in the world to get to know each other properly.”
Valerie nodded, though she still looked worried. “Will you come see me again? Before the wedding?”
“Of course,” Isobel assured her. “As often as I can without raising suspicion.”
“And you will tell me everything? About your life in Scotland, about our siblings, about – about everything?”
Isobel smiled, genuine warmth flooding her chest. “Everything. I promise.”
They talked for a few more minutes, Valerie asking questions about Isobel's childhood, about the family that had raised her, about Scotland itself.
Isobel answered as best she could, painting pictures with her words of the weather, the songs, of a father who had chosen her because she had the same color of eyes as he did.
A mother who had loved her unconditionally and siblings who had cherished her despite the lack of blood ties.
And Valerie listened all the while as Isobel talked and talked, her expression wistful and sad and happy all at once, as though she were mourning the childhood they should have shared while simultaneously rejoicing in the sister she had finally found.
Eventually, though, Valerie's eyelids began to droop, exhaustion claiming her despite her best efforts to stay awake.
“Rest now,” Isobel urged, tucking the blankets more securely around her sister. “We will return soon, I promise.”
“Be safe,” Valerie murmured, already half–asleep. “Please, Isobel. Be safe.”
“I will,” Isobel whispered, pressing a kiss to her sister's forehead. “I promise.”
She and Richard left the attic quietly, careful not to disturb Valerie's rest. Once they were in the hallway with the door closed behind them, Isobel felt the weight of everything that had just happened crash down on her.
Valerie was awake. Her sister – her twin – was alive and conscious and would recover. She would go on to marry the love of her life, and this nightmare would come to an end.
The relief was so overwhelming that Isobel felt her knees weaken, and she had to lean against the wall for support.
“Are you all right?” Richard asked, his hand coming to rest on her elbow to steady her.
“Yes,” Isobel managed. “I just... I did not realize how worried I was until just now. Seeing her awake, speaking to her – it felt like a miracle.”
“It is a good sign,” Richard agreed. “If she has awakened, it means the poison has worked its way through her system. She should make a full recovery with rest and proper care.”
“Thank God,” Isobel breathed, relief practically spilling out of her.
They began walking back toward her room, the silence between them heavy with unspoken things. Every few steps, the back of Isobel's hand would brush against Richard's, and each time it happened, she felt a jolt like lightning race up her arm and straight to her heart.
She wanted to pull away, to create distance between them. But to her utter annoyance, she also wanted to close that distance entirely, to take his hand in hers and never let go.
It was maddening, this push and pull between what she wanted and what she knew she could not have.
Richard seemed to be struggling with something as well. His expression was tense, his jaw tight, and he kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye as though he wanted to say something but could not quite form the words.
When they reached her door, they both stopped. Isobel turned to face him, and the dim light in the hallway cast shadows across his handsome features, making him look almost dangerous.
“I should...” Isobel started, gesturing vaguely at her door.
“Wait,” Richard said, his hand shooting out to catch her wrist. Not hard, but firm enough to keep her from retreating. “I have a plan.”
Isobel's heart skipped. “A plan?”
“For finding out more about your aunt. About Deborah.” His voice was low, urgent. “We do not have much time left. The wedding is in two days, and if we do not uncover the truth before then –”
“What is your plan?” Isobel interrupted, her pulse quickening.
“Tomorrow,” Richard said. “We will discuss it properly tomorrow. But I wanted you to know – we are not giving up. We will find whoever did this, Isobel. I swear it.”
The conviction in his voice, the intensity in his eyes – it made something in Isobel's chest ache with longing. She wanted so badly to believe that the “we” he had spoken of was permanent, that they would face this challenge together and then continue facing others side by side.
But she knew better now.
“I trust you,” she said quietly, and meant it.
Something flickered across Richard's face – surprise, perhaps, or gratitude. His grip on her wrist loosened, his thumb brushing over her pulse point in a gesture that felt far too intimate for the empty hallway.
“Get some rest,” he murmured. “Tomorrow will be... challenging. You will need your strength.”
Isobel nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She slipped her wrist free of his grasp and reached for her door handle, desperate to put some barrier between them before she did something foolish.
Like kissing him. Or begging him not to marry Bridget. Or something much worse.
“Goodnight, Your Grace,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Goodnight, Isobel,” Richard replied, and the sound of her name on his lips sent shivers down her spine.
She fled into her room before she could change her mind, closing the door firmly behind her and leaning against it as though she could physically hold back the feelings threatening to overwhelm her.
This was torture. Sweet, exquisite torture.
And she had no idea how much more of it she could endure.