Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
Isolde was in the morning room, enjoying a cup of tea and the return of sunny days, when she was informed of a guest who had just arrived. And once again, the look on Mr. Pembroke’s face told her, without her having to ask, that this guest might not bring her joy.
“He’s here…?” Isolde swallowed the lump in her throat when Mr. Pembroke told her who it was. “Right now?”
“In the foyer, Your Grace,” Mr. Pembroke said. “He did not tell me the reason for his visit, only that it was in your best interest if he spoke to you at once.” The side of his lip twitched. “And in private.”
“Where is Cassian?” she asked.
“In his office. I planned on seeing him as soon as I left you.”
Isolde thought quickly. The arrival of this guest could only bring with it bad tidings.
And as was typical in Isolde’s life, the timing could not have been worse.
Finally, she and Cassian had found level ground, an admission of their feelings, and a willingness to put the past behind them so that their future might be one worth living for.
Their kiss from yesterday still lingered on Isolde’s lips. She had thought of little else since then, just as she had thought long and hard about what it meant.
From the moment that Cassian had woken up in her cottage, he had confessed to her his love.
Once he learned her secret, he had denied those feelings, fighting against them as if he could bully them away.
But that kiss proved what she had always known.
Her husband loved her and finally he was willing to accept that.
But did she love him?
Isolde cared for Cassian. Of that, there was no question. Also, she wanted Cassian to be happy. She knew the man he was, she knew his heart as if it was her own, and she knew that she wanted to be with him. But was she in love with him?
I want to be… I know that I can be… but it is not nearly so simple.
What Isolde was willing to admit was that she wanted to try. And now that Cassian had accepted her, she was certain that if things continued as they were, the love she yearned for would come. It had to!
But this guest, and the reason that he had come to see her, did not bode well for such aspirations. While Cassian was finally willing to accept her, she worried that her true past and what she had done might cause such feelings to collapse in on themselves.
She had to be careful.
“Send him in,” she said to Mr. Pembroke. “And while I will not ask you to keep this from Cassian, I might ask that you…” She considered and looked pointedly at Mr. Pembroke. “That you might take your time in telling him.”
Mr. Pembroke frowned. “How much time, Your Grace?”
“Five minutes,” she said, hoping it would be enough. “By then, I am certain our guest will have his answer and will have hopefully left.”
“It will be done.” Mr. Pembroke bowed deeply and hurried from the room.
Isolde took the next few seconds to settle her nerves. She sat up straight. She presented a look of dignity and poise fitting her position. And she resolved that she would not be bullied or spoken down to, because things were not as they had been the last time.
And it was just as she centered herself that her guest arrived…
“Well, well, well. If I did not see it with my own two eyes, I might never have believed it. And yet, here you are. How very strange.”
Mr. Harwood was exactly as Isolde remembered him. The same round body. The same wobbling jowls. The same look as if he was sweating through his clothes, heavy breathing, red in the face. And the same disgusting smirk on his plump lips that made her stomach turn.
“Mr. Harwood,” Isolde said politely. “This is a most unexpected surprise.”
He scoffed. “You may drop the act, Your Grace.” He sneered at her title. “You might have thrown on a nice gown. You might have adopted a few fancy words and a way of speaking. But we both know who you are.” He scoffed again. “I do wonder, however, if your husband knows too.”
She did not rise to the bait. “My husband is well aware of who I am and who I was. If your reason for being here is to sew discontent or spread malicious lies, I would warn you against it.”
“But they are not lies, are they?” he said. “You have somehow wormed your way into a marriage with His Grace. How you have…” He clicked his tongue. “I knew you were desperate, but I had no idea just how much.”
“As I said, His Grace knows everything.”
“Does he, now?” Mr. Harwood chuckled with mirth. “I suppose we will find out.”
Isolde clenched her jaw as her stomach knotted.
She had never liked Mr. Harwood, but she had not known him to be so petty.
When he asked to marry her, she’d assumed he was doing so because he was desperate, or because he thought that she was.
And when she turned him down, she had not considered once what it might do to him and his ego.
He wants something. Find out what… find out how to stop him.
“What do you want, Mr. Harwood?” she asked, her voice even. “You did not come here to make threats. Tell me, and I will see it done.”
“Will you now?” he chortled. “Oh yes, a duchess, so much power at her disposal. How you have grown since we last spoke. I hardly recognize you.”
“Is it money?” she asked. “My husband—”
“I do not want money,” he sneered. “What I want is for you to be reminded of who you are.” He looked at her with such antipathy that she felt it on her skin like oil.
“What I want is to remind you that a sheep in wolf’s clothing is still a sheep!
This is not justice, nor is it revenge. It is what is right. ”
“If that is the case, then I must ask that you leave.” Somehow, she kept her composure, even as her stomach sank through the floor. “My husband is not home, so your threats will have to wait.”
“Is that right?” he asked coyly.
“It is.” She looked straight at him, daring him to doubt her.
“And if you do not leave, I will have you thrown out. I might be a sheep in wolf’s clothing, but I can manage that.
” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You wandered into the den and thought your sharp words would be enough to cower me. But I have teeth, and if you do not leave, I will not hesitate to use them.”
It was subtle, but she saw Mr. Harwood hesitate.
He had come to her, expecting the same little girl whom he’d bullied so effortlessly all of his life. What he found in her stead was a woman who had grown into her role as duchess and would not hesitate to show him what that meant, if he forced her to do so.
However, it was just as she saw the doubt pass behind his eyes that Isolde heard footsteps in the distance. She clenched her jaw, she withheld the urge to groan, and she braced herself for Cassian’s arrival.
This will not go well… but for me, or Mr. Harwood? I wish I knew.
“What is the meaning of this?” Cassian strode ahead. He fixed a glare on Mr. Harwood, the type that could turn fire to ice, before passing him by and planting himself beside Isolde. “Mr. Harwood, you ought to know better than this.”
“Your Grace.” Mr. Harwood bowed deeply. “I do apologize for the intrusion and the means by which I have done it.”
“My steward told me you wished to speak to my wife alone.” He held his glare. “To even ask for such a thing…” He curled his lip. “I ought to have you dragged outside.”
Isolde took some pleasure in watching Mr. Harwood cower. In the face of Cassian’s hostility, he was not so confident. But that pleasure was short lived.
“I had hoped it would not be necessary, Your Grace,” Mr. Harwood spoke quickly. “When I arrived, I was not certain if you knew the truth of your wife’s upbringing.” He looked at her quickly. “A truth I now know you are privy to.”
Cassian turned stiff. “If I were you, I would choose my next words carefully.”
“I came here to warn you, Your Grace,” he said. “When I heard of what Isolde—”
“Her Grace,” Cassian cut him off. “You will address my wife as befits her position.”
Mr. Harwood swallowed. “When I heard what she had done, I was not surprised, Your Grace.” He swallowed again. “You see, while it brings me no pleasure to tell you this, she did the same to me.”
“What?” Isolde blurted. “That is a lie!”
“A harsh truth,” Mr. Harwood said smoothly. “As you know, her family is in dire straits, financially speaking, and she attempted to trick me into marrying her so that I might rescue them.”
“I did no such thing!” Isolde stood quickly and looked at Cassian. “He is lying, Cassian. I would never… I would not…”
“I refused her, of course,” Mr. Harwood continued with a smirk.
“Only to learn that a few days later she found her way into your good graces. The nature of it…” He sighed and shook his head.
“I would not deem to pry. But I thought you should be warned that Her Grace will do anything she must to get her way. I only wish I had learned sooner, so I might have warned you.”
Isolde could not believe what she was hearing!
She looked at Mr. Harwood, noting the proud smile on his lips and the reflection of it in his eyes. That was why he was here. He claimed it was to do the right thing, but it was little more than revenge.
Then she looked at her husband, and that brought her little respite.
Cassian’s brow furrowed and there was no sense at all that he meant to simply dismiss Mr. Harwood’s absurd claims because there was no way he could believe them. In fact, it looked as if he was considering them. Worse still, he did not once look at Isolde.
“Cassian…” She took his hand. “He is lying to you. Mr. Harwood asked me to marry him, and I turned him away.”
“That is a lie,” Mr. Harwood said. “Do not believe her words, Your Grace, for they are spoken with a tongue of poison and wickedness.”
“Please,” she begged. “You must believe me. I would never…” She caught her tongue, because she could not possibly say that she would never lie to him.
“Mr. Harwood.” Cassian’s voice was so cold that Isolde felt its chill. “Leave us. Now.” He glared warningly at Mr. Harwood, a sight that should have told Isolde that he was on her side…
“At once, Your Grace.” He bowed deeply. “Again, I do apologize for this most troublesome news, but you needed to be told.” He made sure to smirk once at Isolde before departing.
“Lies,” Isolde said as soon as they were alone. “Every word he spoke was a lie.”
“A lie…” Cassian rolled the word over his tongue. “You would know of such things, wouldn’t you?”
“I…” She leaned back and he slowly peeled his hand free. “That is not… I lied once, Cassian. I would never do it again. You must believe me.”
“That’s just it, though.” Still, he could not bring himself to look at her. “I do not know if I must. I want to, Isolde. I wish it were that easy. But…” He bit into his lip, and she saw the battle raging across his face. “I need some time to think about this.”
“Cassian…” His name came out in a whimper.
He strode across the room. When he reached the door, he turned back and looked at her.
In that look, she did not see the same man who had kissed her just one day ago.
She did not see love or compassion. What she saw was doubt and pain and a hint of the man whom Cassian had fought so hard against returning to.
Then he turned and walked away.
Isolde let go of a soft whimper as she collapsed onto the sofa. She wanted to bemoan the situation, tell herself it would be fine, that she did not deserve this, and that Cassian would believe her. But as was the theme of her life thus far, those words felt like more lies.
She had done this. She had brought it onto herself. And she was finally paying for it. Just when everything had felt so right… and once again, I have managed to hurt the one man who does not deserve it.
In that, Isolde wasn’t even sure if she wanted Cassian’s forgiveness. She certainly did not deserve it.