Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The silence of the night gave Isobel’s heart beat the void it needed to echo in her head as she returned to the house.
It was as though the further away she got from the garden house – from Richard – the more viscerally her body and mind opposed what was to come.
Her body still carried heavy reminders of what they had done, her skin still wearing marks of his affection from the moments they shared that had been charged with lust and desire. But she knew she would have to ignore it all if she was to get over him.
Valerie was to be wed very soon, and once the union ceremony was over, Isobel would be on her way back to Scotland. She was to commit to a life that she had been ready to pledge to before she was invited back to London, but for some reason, it was somehow harder to reconcile with the idea.
She had been so adamant that nothing would change. Still, everything was so different, less clear than it had been before she had witnessed the full extent of his desire for her.
“That is all it was,” she told herself as she drew closer to the house. “Only an excuse for us both to satisfy our desires. I was… merely curious and now, my curiosity has been sated.”
The words tasted like ash, and her throat tightened as she entered the house. Every part of her screamed at the falsehoods that swirled around in her head, but it did not matter. Her mind had been made up, and she must forget all about what they had shared up until now.
The ball had obviously drawn to a close, and the barely hushed mumbles of servants and staff as they cleaned up the manor told Isobel that the guests had all retired for the night.
And while she was thankful that no one had intercepted her rendezvous with Richard in the garden or interrupted them afterwards, she thought it was a little strange that no one had sought to know her whereabouts.
Adrian had no reason to seek her out if he had seen her with Richard, but it was odd that no one had prompted him to go and find her. The closer the wedding drew, the less it seemed as though people cared about Valerie – other than her husband-to-be and siblings.
Gregory had shown time and time again that his interests lay in the benefits of the union between his daughter and the Duke of Norwich. However, every time his nonchalance was brazenly displayed, she could not help but feel even more thankful for the upbringing she had received.
Her own father, Fergus, would have given up the use of all his limbs before he would even consider using any of his children for his own benefits. And even then, it would have destroyed him to make such a decision.
She had been rather young when it happened, but she could still recall how upset he had been when Catherine had to marry a duke to settle a debt.
Without her marriage, they would have lost their home and, much worse, but Catherine had taken the task without fear.
Fergus had been beside himself with worry to the point that he had fallen ill.
Thankfully, Catherine’s husband worshipped the very ground she walked on, and the union had blessed the family, so none of their father’s fears came true. And Adrian did seem to love Valerie immensely, which granted Isobel relief.
Still, she could not help but wonder if perhaps the attack on Valerie was not simply an attempt to intercept the wedding – but also a means of taking away the power and influence Gregory would receive as a result.
With how easily her father accepted the idea that his sister might be responsible for what had happened to his daughter, Isobel thought they might not have been on good terms. Perhaps that was why Deborah seemingly had no problem aiding or facilitating the attack on Valerie, despite her well-meaning nature.
It was frustrating to Isobel that no matter how close she thought she had gotten to the end of this mess, there were still so many unresolved answers.
Despite Richard’s disapproval of Gregory’s idea for Isobel to practically bait Deborah into exposing herself, she was worried that was the only way to get the answers they sought.
“I miss my family,” Isobel whispered to herself as she climbed the stairs that led to the floor her room was on.
They might have had many problems – just like any other family – but nothing like this would have ever happened.
Isobel looked up at her doorway and froze, noting that someone was standing in front of it, their back to her. The hallway barely had any light, and the shadows obscured the person, and for a moment, she was worried the culprit had come to finish the job, once and for all.
But then, the form approached her, and the first thing she noticed was that he was shorter than she had assumed. Then she realized that it wasn’t the culprit, but rather her brother Cecil.
“Cecil? What is – are you all right?” she questioned in concern, noting the look of exhaustion on his face as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
The ball was only for the adults, so the children were meant to have long since been put to bed, yet Cecil – although already dressed in his night clothes – seemed wide awake.
He moved closer to her, and she could not help but open her arms to him, the way Graham would do whenever she was upset. The child hesitated, only just, before welcoming her embrace.
“I could not sleep. I tried and tried – I even counted sheep like Valerie taught me, but nothing worked. And I thought… would you mind if I stayed with you for a little while?” he said quietly.
Isobel’s heart softened, and she stroked the child’s hair gently, smiling kindly at him. There were very few memories of this place she would want to hold onto after she left, but she would cherish every moment she had spent with Cecil and Nora.
“I have an even better idea,” she told him gently. “Why don’t I accompany you back to your room and keep you company until you fall asleep?”
“Y-You would do that?”
Isobel nodded. “Certainly. I would love to help, however I can. And this is my last night here, in any case. I would love nothing more than to spend my time talking with you.”
Her sincerity seemed to reach him, and the distress on his face melted away. Cecil nodded excitedly and took her hand, leading the way.
“Valerie used to read to Nora and me when we were little. She told the stories so… vibrantly. Nora would fall asleep before I did, but I would beg for more stories. She always read one more – a short one, before she left me for the night.” Cecil told her quietly.
It was clear he missed Valerie greatly, and Isobel couldn’t help but feel disheartened for the young boy. This time was meant to be spent reliving childhood memories together, while reaffirming the bond they had as siblings, before Valerie was whisked away to her husband’s house.
Instead, they had to spend the days leading up to the wedding apart, with Valerie in isolation.
So many things about this situation hurt Isobel greatly, and it strengthened her desperation to find and reveal the culprit. They must pay for the hurt they caused to her family.
“My oldest sister, Margaret, used to read stories to me, too. Scottish folklore was tales of fantastical creatures. She used to regale me with stories about merfolk, selkies, ghosts, and household spirits.” Isobel said as they entered his room.
Cecil’s eyes widened as he climbed into his bed. “Were you not afraid? Those sound like horrid tales to hear before bed.”
Isobel chuckled, drawing the covers over him warmly before she sat at the edge of the bed.
“Some of them were quite scary,” she nodded.
“Like the blue men of the minch. They were little creatures that had blue skin and looked like you and me sometimes. And they would cause storms to sink ships at sea. But they mostly attacked pirates. But there were also nice creatures, such as brownies. They are household spirits who help with chores. Rather precious – but apparently, they could become mischievous if they were offended.”
Cecil’s eyes sparkled with interest, and Isobel smiled.
“I do not remember most of the stories,” she admitted, a little disheartened as she realized that was truly the case.
“But we do have a large book that has accounts of many such tales, just… sitting at the family house. I will send it to you as an early birthday present.”
“You would do that? For me?”
Isobel nodded. “You are my family too. The stories filled my childish heart with much wonder when I was your age. They would serve you better now, rather than gathering dust in my house.”
Cecil looked so utterly pleased; Isobel felt proud of the decision she had made.
“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear.
“Of course. It is the very least I could do. It is quite a large book, so you must be careful not to drop it carelessly. Unless it is on someone you do not like. Then… by all means.”
Cecil chuckled, surprised by the suggestion.
“You cannot just… give me permission to hurt someone.”
“That was never my intention. I only wish to let you know that you have my blessing if you wish to retaliate against an offender. I have once fantasized about throwing it at my brother’s head after he upset me.
Alas, I was a wee lass, and he has always towered over me.
I settled for kicking his shins. My mother came to my rescue before he could punish me,” she smirked coyly.
Cecil stared at her in surprise, then he laughed so hard that she was worried he might choke. Isobel watched him silently, a gentle smile overtook her features as she recalled what it was like to be his age, with no worries.
She missed how much simpler those times were, how her family felt so impervious to any form of downfall, and how she believed everything would go smoothly with her life.