Chapter Fourteen #3
How had he ever thought Sir Thomas a kind, fatherly man?
He was positively maniacal when it came to twisting the knife of guilt.
‘I do not know that a marriage between you and Ismay is something I want any longer. You have two weeks to prove yourself. I will write to your father and explain the situation. That is all. I am sure you will want to go up and refresh yourself.’
Dismissed, like a recalcitrant youth caught stealing brandy and cigars.
Alistair had never felt a shame so acute as he did climbing the stairs to his chambers.
Sir Thomas was right. He ought to have forbidden Ismay the climb.
He would not have been successful, but he should have tried.
He’d not understood the extent of the danger until it had nearly been too late.
And now the shame was double. Sir Thomas was writing to his father.
His father would know he’d failed. Again.
This time, in front of his father’s oldest friend.
Upstairs, Alistair dismissed the valet. He would unpack his own bag. He was in no mood for company. But the valet had barely left when Ismay quietly opened the door and slipped in. ‘Iz, it’s not a good time,’ he began.
She ignored his request. ‘Was my father stern with you?’
Alistair sat down hard on the bed, his head in his hands. Everything was starting to unravel. The ruse had taken on a life of its own, with consequences of its own. ‘He suggested I should have forbidden you the climb.’
Ismay came to sit beside him. ‘I wouldn’t have listened. He doesn’t understand the mountain is always in a state of eruption. People climb it all the time. Did he really think you could have stopped me?’
‘A worthy husband would have tried, at least. And he is right about that.’
‘But that’s the whole point. You’re not a worthy husband.
’ She gave a soft laugh. ‘That’s the plan, right?
’ It was the second time she’d pointed that out.
She’d made a similar remark at the accademia’s lecture.
Something deep inside him stirred in rebellion.
Maybe he wanted to be a good husband, a worthy fiancé.
Was that the truth, or was he merely being contrary, wanting to take the opposition against Ismay out of habit?
‘I didn’t think the plan coming to fruition would sting so much,’ Alistair confessed.
He’d been full of bravado earlier today, bolstering Ismay when she’d told him about her talk with her mother, assuring her that this was what they’d worked for, what they wanted.
Nay, what they needed. Only now, he wasn’t so sure.
‘I have to go change for supper.’ She squeezed his hand and rose.
‘In a few weeks this will all be behind you. You will be in Florence with Hayes, and the world will have righted itself.’ Hiding.
He’d be in Florence hiding from his father under the guise of helping Hayes.
That’s what he would really be doing, not starting a new life.
Alistair stepped out onto his balcony, looking for peace, but the view of the bay in the distance failed to soothe him.
Instead, it forced him to embrace an uncomfortable truth.
He didn’t want to be in Florence. He wanted to be here.
There was so much to do. Sir Thomas needed help with the business, and he’d turned out to have a talent for many aspects of it.
He already had a small client list of his own, men like Lord Danton, who were impressed with his ability to acquire pieces for their collections.
He had connections to help Ismay gather funding for an all-women scientific publication.
If he left, the connections would go with him.
He wanted to see the look on Professor Loughty’s face when that first edition came out.
There were things to do here, things only he could do if he dared.
It would require courage to stay. He’d have to go back on his word to Ismay.
He leaned on the balustrade. He’d found purpose here, a life here, only he’d realised it too late, when he was being asked to leave.
If it was just Sir Thomas doing the asking, he’d argue against it.
He’d find a way to prove himself, to reverse the damage the ruse had done.
But it was not only Sir Thomas asking. Ismay was, too.
To stay would trap Ismay in a marriage she didn’t want.
He could not do that to her, could not betray her after she’d been betrayed by men before—like Loughty and Ashford and even her father.
He did not want to add to the list. For her sake, he must make the sacrifice.
And perhaps he needed to make the sacrifice for himself.
Did he want to marry Ismay, or did he just want the things that came with that marriage?
That was also unfair to her. But that sacrifice would take a different kind of courage.
No one would ever know how hard it was for him to leave.
They would see only a rake going on his rakish way, off to a new adventure, but he would know all he’d held in his hand and what it had cost him to give it up.
All he could do now was seize what moments of paradise remained.