Chapter Twenty-five #2
As she faced her uncertain future, Isabella knew that by far the most difficult adjustment would be losing Damien.
The earl had not renewed his offer of marriage since his return from visiting her grandfather in the north.
Perhaps it was a blessing that Damien had not spoken again of his intentions.
In light of the current circumstances, an alliance between them was a total impossibility.
Lord Poole would never allow it. And surely her heart would break if she were forced to decline his offer yet again.
For this time, given the freedom of choice, she would follow where love lead her. She would marry Damien. Gladly.
Jenkins arrived to take her baggage.
“The rest of the household has finished breakfast. Mrs. Amberly wants to know if she should continue holding the morning meal for you.”
“I couldn’t possible swallow a morsel.” Isabella’s already queasy stomach revolted at the thought of food.
She grinned timidly at Jenkins. “Especially one of Mrs. Amberly’s dishes.
I remembered that the new cook is taking this morning off, which means she is once again preparing the household meals. ”
“Very well.” Jenkins didn’t even crack at smile. “Lord Poole’s coachman is awaiting your luggage, Miss Browning. Is it ready?”
The censure and disappointment in the valet’s tone caught Isabella by surprise. From the beginning, he had been Isabella’s friend and supporter, her staunchest ally. It hurt deeply to hear his blatant disapproval.
“I would stay at Whatley Grange if it were possible, Mr. Jenkins.”
“Your actions speak otherwise,” Jenkins replied coldly, his mouth curled in disgust.
“You judge me unfairly,” Isabella said quietly. She looked at him with wide, remorseful eyes. “I leave only because Lord Poole demands it. He is a wealthy, influential man, and his current thirst for vengeance makes him very dangerous indeed.”
“Have you so little faith in Damien?”
“I have every faith in the earl. ’Tis the neighboring nobility who lack judgment and honor.
I could not stand idly by and allow my brother to place Damien in such an untenable position.
In my heart I have wavered constantly over this decision, yet I sincerely believe that this course of action, while painful, is the only way to ensure Damien’s safety. ”
“I still think you are making a grave mistake,” Jenkins said, but his voice was less harsh.
“I have no choice,” Isabella insisted with true remorse. Yet she was relieved the valet’s hostility had lessened. Her departure was going to be difficult enough without adding a heavy dose of guilt.
Isabella swallowed back her emotions, knowing she would never be able to make any coherent farewells if she did not gain some measure of control over her regrets.
“My luggage is ready. You may bring it downstairs at your convenience,” Isabella said. She gathered the large assortment of gowns she had left on the bed in her arms. “I’m going to take these gowns upstairs. Maggie should be there with the baby. I ... I need to say good-bye.”
“The others—Fran, Molly, and Penny—are waiting outside to speak with you. Will you see them first?”
“Of course.”
Isabella placed the gowns for Maggie in a chair and brought out the dresses she had saved for the other maids.
The girls were clearly grateful for the extravagant gift but markedly upset over Isabella’s departure.
Teary-eyed, they left her bedchamber just as Jenkins reappeared to carry the luggage down to the traveling coach.
“Has the earl returned to The Grange, Jenkins?” Isabella inquired, asking the question she feared most.
The valet’s expression softened slightly. “Damien and the children await you in the front salon.”
Isabella nodded her head in acknowledgment, not trusting her voice. When Jenkins had departed, she struggled up the narrow staircase with the bundle of clothes for Maggie.
Maggie’s delight and excitement over the beautiful gowns quickly changed to sadness when Isabella said her final good-bye. Maggie hugged her tightly and sniffled loudly.
“Fred and I are so very grateful for everything you’ve done for us and the baby. I don’t know how we’ll get on without you. Catherine and Ian will miss you so much. And so will I. And Fran and Penny and Molly. Goodness, everyone will miss you.”
“Even Mrs. Amberly?” Isabella joked, blinking back the moisture from her eyes.
“Oh, miss!” Maggie smiled. “That’s just what I mean. Who will make us laugh when you are gone?”
Isabella smiled weakly. After a several minutes of fussing over the baby and more hugs from Maggie, she finally quit the room. Nerves frayed and resolve waning, Isabella proceeded to the front salon. Marshaling the courage she knew she would need, Isabella paused before entering the room.
Her expression remained contained, but she flinched inwardly when she saw Damien, Ian, and Catherine. God help her, this was going to be difficult.
“Father told us you are going away,” Catherine said without preamble in the typical forthright manner of children. “Why are you leaving us?”
“I have important business I must attend to that forces me away from The Grange,” Isabella replied, giving as much explanation as she dared.
She was relieved that Damien had spared her from informing the children of her departure, but was unsure what the earl might have told his children.
“I shall miss you, Catherine. And you too, Ian.”
“But we don’t want you to go away,” Catherine cried.
“I know,” Isabella whispered, impulsively dropping to her knee and opening her arms wide. Both children rushed forward without hesitation. Isabella hugged their small bodies tightly, committing to memory the joyful feel of their clinging arms and sweet, wet kisses.
“You must promise to behave yourselves and mind your father,” Isabella said.
She sat back on her heels but still held the children loosely in the circle of her arms. “I want you to practice your numbers, Ian. Catherine, you must continue with your alphabet and letters. I’m sure your father will be glad to help you. ”
Isabella risked a glance at the earl, but Damien’s expression gave no hint of his inner thoughts.
“You may go down to the kitchen, children,” Damien said. “Cook prepared a special treat for you last night and has left it in the larder.”
The children didn’t budge, clearly reluctant to leave, but after a commanding nod from their father they sprang into action.
“Good-bye, Miss Browning,” Catherine said.
“Good-bye, Miss Browning,” Ian repeated.
With one final hug, the children dashed from the room. The door slammed loudly at their exit, the room silent except for the lingering sound. Isabella slowly rose to her feet. She straightened her traveling cloak, looking down at the buttons that adorned the front.
“I waited for you last night,” she said softly.
“My mood was not very congenial.” Damien flexed the fingers on his left hand. “I would have been rather unpleasant company.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” Isabella said honestly. Screwing up her courage, she asked. “Where were you?”
“I rode for several hours around the grounds of the estate before eventually heading toward the village. By nightfall I found myself at the town square. I went inside the church.” Damien swallowed so hard she could see his Adam’s apple move. “And spent the night there.”
“In church?”
A ghost of a smile flashed across his face. “Unbelievable, is it not?”
“Not really.” Isabella leaned close and laid her hand on the earl’s arm. “I hope it brought you some measure of peace, Damien.”
“At this moment, I don’t think that is either humanly or divinely possible.”
Isabella gripped his arm. She wanted to lean her head forward until it rested against his broad chest. She wanted to tell him that she shared his pain, his grief, his distress.
She wanted to offer comfort and be comforted by this strong, noble man whom she loved beyond all reason. But she did not move.
Damien cleared his throat. “We spoke once of the possible consequences of our physical relationship. If, after you leave, you discover—”
“There will be no child,” Isabella whispered, dropping her arm.
“I see.” The earl’s voice was smooth and emotionless. “Are you all packed?”
“Yes.” Isabella bowed her head.
“Has Jenkins or one of the other servants brought your luggage down?”
“Yes.”
“Then I suppose you had best be gone. It is already several hours past the early morning start that Poole demanded.”
“Yes,” Isabella whispered, her voice a thread of misery. She could feel him looking at her. She wanted desperately to lift her face and stare into his one final time, but her eyes were swimming in tears and she vowed he would not see her cry.
“Good-bye, Damien.” A great weight was pressing down on Isabella’s chest, and she had difficulty catching her breath. She turned to leave.
“I will miss you, Isabella,” he said quietly. “I have no doubts that I shall think of you far too often for my own peace of mind.”
“Oh, Damien! ” Her legs nearly gave out.
She turned back to the earl, hesitated, then rushed into his arms. Burying her head in his shoulder, she finally allowed herself the luxury of tears.
The unexpressed emotions and unspoken words of love remained hidden deep in her heart as she cried for all they had shared and for all they had lost.
Damien’s fingers twined in her hair. He held her close, and she welcomed his protective, possessive touch. His warmth eased away some of the bitter coldness in her soul. Isabella felt her heart thumping in slow, painful beats, wondering why it did not simply split in two.
“I know it is selfish, yet I’m glad you will also miss me,” Damien said hoarsely.