Chapter 6
Six
“Something is wrong,” said the duke... No, Cassian.
He sat on the edge of the table, holding Isolde’s hand and looking at her with actual worry in his eyes.
“What… what do you mean?” Isolde said with a bark of dismissive laughter.
“Please, Isolde, there is no need to lie to me. I might have bumped my head, but I am not dying. And whatever you are keeping from me, if it is just because you do not wish to upset me, please know that there is nothing you can say that would do as much.”
A lump rose in Isolde’s throat. “You don’t know that…” She looked away.
“It is a strange thing, this situation in which I find myself.” Cassian sighed as he released her hand and slowly stood.
Hands folded behind his back, he walked around the table, his eyes scanning the room, taking it in as if searching for something.
“No doubt, I have been in this room a hundred times. It is Mr. Pemberton’s office, I believe, but that is merely a guess. I have no way of knowing.”
Isolde’s heart raced. Guilt attacked her. She sensed the question coming… Surely, that’s what this was? He might not have his memory, but he must have known that she was lying, that something was wrong with this situation.
“The same goes for this manor,” he continued as he sat down across from her. “The servants... everything. I feel like a stranger here, even if I have lived here my entire life. I walk into a room, I look about it, and I feel nothing. The truth is, I feel wretchedly guilty about it.”
“Cassian, you have no reason to feel that way.”
“And yet I do,” he sighed, sadness passing behind his dark eyes.
“When Mr. Pemberton came for me this morning, the joy and the relief I saw in him... the way he hugged me as if…” His shoulders slumped.
“But he is a stranger, a man I do not know. And try as I might, I cannot feel for him, or any of it, what I know that I should feel.”
Isolde tried not to look so guilty. She sat perfectly still. She watched Cassian as he poured out his heart. And she waited for the moment that was sure to come…
“And then I look at you.” Cassian found Isolde watching him, and he smiled.
It was warm and inviting, the type one would wear when they came upon an old friend or loved one.
It reached his dark eyes, and a light burned behind them; the sadness faded, and Isolde felt as if she was the only one who mattered to the duke in that moment.
“When I look at you, Isolde, I don’t feel that way.
I cannot remember you. I know nothing about you, save for what you have told me, and yet…
” His smile somehow grew. “I feel as if I know you. In here…” He touched his chest. “It is as if you are a part of me, even if I do not know which part exactly.”
“Cassian…” Isolde’s heart broke, and all she wanted to do was fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness.
How could I have let things go this far?
“Not that this should be surprising.” He chuckled softly. “To me, it is confirmation of what I know. That you and I are meant to be; a love match, as it is. I mean, how else would I be engaged to a vicar’s daughter if that was not the case?”
Gently, he rose from the seat and walked around the desk. Then, he sat on its edge again and took her hand. He rested that hand in his lap, he made sure to look down at her, and the smile on his face remained, as did the one in his eyes.
“So, when I say that I know something is wrong, while I might not know you in the most classic sense, I feel as if I know you. Somehow, despite what has happened, this feeling has remained inside of me, and that is a light in the darkness that I need so desperately.” He squeezed her hand tightly.
“I am lost, Isolde. No idea where I am or what is going on. But that I have you… It makes it that little bit easier.”
Isolde looked away with utmost shame, hardly able to keep herself together.
“Now, tell me, what is wrong,” he pressed gently. “And how can I help.”
Isolde wanted to tell him the truth. She meant to. It was right there, begging to come out. All she needed to do was say the words…
It was the look that Cassian held her in that kept those words at bay.
And what he said… How honest and vulnerable he was being.
There was nothing of the old duke in this man.
He wasn’t purposefully cruel. He wasn’t mean or manipulative or haughty.
That man, Isolde could see, was dead, and perhaps it was time she realized it.
This duke was scared. He was alone. He was lost in a world that he did not understand, and for reasons that Isolde could not comprehend, she was the person whom he had latched onto for safety and comfort.
He needed her, and not just because he thought they were engaged, but because she was the only person in the world whom he felt safe around. It should not have been that way; she had no right to make him feel so, but she did, and there was nothing she could do to change that.
What was more, she did not want to.
To tell him the truth now would break him. He is so certain of his feelings for me, so true to them that he needs me as if I might save him.
She wanted to tell him the truth, but now was not the time.
“It does not matter.” A smile touched her lips, and it was genuine, caused by the way that Cassian looked at her. She liked that look, just as she liked how it made her feel. “I am just a little… we might be engaged, but this world is as new to me as it is to you. I am merely getting used to it.”
“As am I,” he said. “So, let us find our feet together, yes? We are both learning, and I cannot imagine anyone else with whom I would rather learn.”
The guilt still swarmed inside her. The shame was still present. But Isolde was able to push it down, just enough so that she might focus on another feeling that had started to appear.
Cassian needed her at that moment, and she would be there for him. As was her charge in life, she helped those who could not help themselves, so how was this any different?
Mr. Pemberton entered the room a moment later. He saw them holding hands, the look on their faces, and he hesitated. “Your Grace…” He cleared his throat. “I have the physician, if now is a good time?”
Isolde was glad to leave the duke alone, needing a moment to herself to think about what had just happened and what she intended to do.
Mr. Pemberton showed her to her room, one right next to Cassian’s private quarters, and while he did not accuse her of any wrongdoing, he was not exactly warm or congenial.
It was as if a silent understanding had been reached that so long as Cassian wanted her there, she could stay.
But the moment it was sensed that she was bad for the duke…
Truly, when that moment comes, I will be glad to leave.
“If you require anything,” Mr. Pemberton said as he walked to the door, “I will send a chambermaid to assist you. This is your home now, as it is His Grace’s…” The side of his lip twitched. “Welcome to Blackthorne Hall.”
The door slammed closed, and Isolde jumped.
Alone now, she took in her new room. It was the size of her cottage, possibly even bigger, richly decorated, clean and sweet smelling, much more than she deserved.
Isolde wandered to the window. It provided a view of the back garden and the fields beyond. They were verdant and sparse, low rolling hills that stretched far until the blue sky above swallowed them whole. A most beautiful view, yet Isolde could not enjoy it.
She stared out the window as she considered her situation and what she would do.
Although she was in the wrong, she reasoned that her intentions were pure.
Cassian needed her, and for as long as he did, she would be there for him.
She would not manipulate him. She would not try to make him do anything that he did not want to do.
She was merely there to help him find his feet until his memory returned.
And my family too. If I can convince him to help them somehow, then maybe what I have done won’t be nearly so bad…
Once his memory returned, Isolde would admit what she’d done and accept her punishment. No excuses. No begging or pleading. She had done this, and the consequences would be accepted as such.
The view was divine. The room was impossible. But Isolde felt ugly inside—alone and shameful, and unable to appreciate this new world because she knew it was not forever. Nor should it be.