Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
This was a mistake. I should not be here. I should go…
Isolde stood in the corner of the drawing room, a glass of wine in her hand, held purely so that she wouldn’t fidget, but her posture was withdrawn, and she had an expression on her face that surely told the room how out of place she felt.
To make matters even worse, from the looks that everyone gave her, they thought that she was out of place, too. Worse still, they thought that she did not belong.
It had been like that since the moment she arrived at Lord Montague’s estate. Alone.
Cassian had not returned in time to leave with her.
Mr. Pembroke assured her all evening, right until he closed the carriage door, that he would arrive as soon as possible, and that he wanted her there when he did.
More than once, Isolde almost changed her mind, and she just might have had Mr. Pembroke not been so insistent.
He knew something, and while he would not say what, she had to trust him.
When Isolde arrived at the manor, she saw immediately that her secret was out. While she was welcomed indoors without hesitation, led to the drawing room where the other two dozen guests were already gathered. From the moment she stepped into the room, the atmosphere changed.
“Ah, Your Grace.” Lord Montague was the first to welcome her. He was elderly and possessed of an uptight air that was common for men of the peerage. He kept his nose stuck in the air and his upper lip curled as he greeted her. “It is so wonderful to see you here this evening.”
“I am pleased to be here.” Isolde tried her best to remember all her training and to enforce it. She was still a duchess, and she had every right to be there. But in the face of his distaste, she wilted.
“I see you are alone,” he said as he looked past her. “Is His Grace not coming?”
“He is running late,” she said. “He will be here shortly.”
He raised an eyebrow in surprise. It looked as if he had something he wanted to say. But then a forced smile, done with thin lips, and he bid her inside. “Please, please, come in. For now, drinks are being served. Once everyone arrives, we shall begin the night in earnest.”
Isolde thanked him and wandered into the drawing room.
She looked at the other guests, all of whom stood in small groups together. All of whom turned to look at her, though none bothered to approach. In fact, she sensed immediately that they did not want her to, as if an invisible wall stood between herself and everyone else.
Mr. Harwood was there, and the moment she found his eyes, he smirked proudly. Then he leaned in and whispered to a lord he spoke with. They chuckled, shook their heads, and they both observed her as if she were a stray dog that had wandered inside.
This was a bad idea… What was I thinking?
So it was that Isolde found herself in the corner of the room, shrinking back, hiding in the shadows as if she might be forgotten.
There would be no forgetting her, however. As the minutes dragged, as the first hour passed by, she had no doubt that nearly every conversation in that room was about her. They all knew her secret, and they were each waiting for the right moment to expose it.
Isolde could only assume that when Cassian arrived, they would do so. But that just made her wonder what his goal was. Did he want her there so that he could denounce her in front of his peers? Would he stand up for her, even if it would ruin his reputation?
I suppose it all comes down to how he truly feels about me. A week ago, I might have believed he would be on my side. But now…
Finally, after a good hour of waiting, Cassian strode into the drawing room. When Isolde saw him, her emotions were as confused as the night in question.
First, she felt tremendous relief. She needed him then as she never had before. She needed him beside her, to protect her, to prove to her that he had not forgotten who she was and how she made him feel. She needed him to show her that their marriage was not over… that he trusted her.
So, she smiled, her shoulders squaring. It was the first time all night that she felt willing to step into the light.
What was more, her heart skipped a beat in a way that reminded her of how she truly felt.
She had not seen Cassian all week, and seeing him then made her realize just how much she had missed him.
Only as he strode into the room, and all eyes turned to face him, she caught his expression, the glower behind his eyes, and her stomach dropped with warning.
He moved with purpose, with power in each stride.
He walked as if he owned the room, as if he expected mountains to move out of his way.
There was a hard expression on his face as determination poured from his body; the light in the room flickered as if it was threatened by his very presence.
And a hushed whisper trickled from the mouths of the guests.
Isolde’s chest tightened. Her breathing stopped dead.
To look at Cassian, she suddenly realized in that moment who he reminded her of.
Not the man she had met in her cottage. Not the man whom she had married.
But the cold, callous, and wicked duke whom she had once hated and feared in equal measure.
Oh no…
“Your Grace…” Lord Montague approached Cassian at once. “It is so good of you to have come. We were worried.”
Cassian looked pointedly at Lord Montague. “Worried or hopeful?”
“I, ah…” He balked at the sharpness of Cassian’s tone.
“Pray tell, Lord Montague, where is my dear wife this evening? I was told that she was here?”
“She is,” he said quickly as he turned to find her. “Ah, there she is. Hiding away.”
He looked coldly at Lord Montague. “I wonder why.”
With no choice, Isolde took a deep and calming breath and crossed the room to greet Cassian. She searched his eyes as she did, looking for some indication of what he expected. But he remained detached and impossible to read.
“You made it.” She stopped just short of him, offering no more than a simple smile. “I was not sure you would.”
“Of course I was going to, Isolde,” he said to her, his voice low.
“There is something…” His brow furrowed.
“There are things we need to discuss. I had wondered if we might do it before leaving, but here will have to do.” He looked over the room.
“In fact, I think having this conversation here is probably for the best.”
Isolde’s stomach flipped. Had she been right? Was he really going to denounce her in front of everyone? She simply couldn’t believe it. She tried to meet his eyes with her own, to show him that he need not do such a thing.
“Cassian…” Her voice was soft, so it wouldn’t be heard. “Please, whatever you mean to do, can we not talk about it first? There is so much I want to say and I…” She swallowed. “Please, you must give me a chance to explain.”
“Explain?” He appeared confused by the notion. “There is nothing to explain.”
“But there is,” she pressed. “If we can only go somewhere and—”
“Your Grace!” Mr. Harwood’s voice cut over Isolde’s.
She winced and turned just as he stepped away from his friends and started toward them.
He wore a triumphant smile, his cheeks were flushed red, and when he looked at Isolde, his beady eyes flashed with sheer delight.
“I am so glad you were able to make it.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Cassian said.
Mr. Harwood chuckled. “I know you do not think much of me, Your Grace, but in this instance, I think you might wish to hear what I have to say.” He stepped between them and dropped his voice a little.
However, with the silence of the room, it made little difference.
“It brings me little pleasure to reveal to you the, ah… the revelations that have made their way into tonight’s festivities.
” He clicked his tongue as if in disappointment.
“I swear I had nothing to do with it. But when I heard them, I could not in good conscience deny their truth.”
“Revelations?” Cassian glanced at Isolde.
“Concerning your wife,” Mr. Harwood pressed. “Somehow, word has spread of her true birth. As you can see…” He gestured to the room, where every single guest watched. “It has caused quite the stir. It pains me, truly. However, as you likely knew, it was always going to come to this.”
Cassian looked over the small crowd. Each to the last watched on with judgment in their eyes, and even anger on some of their faces. And when Isolde looked herself, she winced and cowered back as if she could literally feel their antipathy.
“So, they know?” Cassian asked Mr. Harwood.
“They do,” he said, only to scoff at Isolde. “A secret like that one was always going to come out, sooner or later. Perhaps it is best that it did tonight. A chance for you to…” He chuckled. “To give your side, as it were. No doubt, you are as surprised as the rest of us.” He chuckled again.
“Is that what you think I ought to do?” Cassian asked simply. “Tell me, is there anything I might say to deny these claims? Will I be believed?”
Mr. Harwood looked at him flatly. “You know that is not so. You and your wife made everyone out to be a fool, Your Grace. Surely, you can understand why they are so upset?”
Isolde could hardly breathe.
She watched Cassian closely, desperate to see what he was thinking.
It was impossible to tell, as his expression was detached and void of emotion.
But that told her enough. The Cassian she knew cherished his emotional openness, and he would surely look at her with a smile just to let her know that he was on her side.
The room watched on. Cassian had been called out. He had no choice but to defend himself. But would he defend Isolde too? Or would he do as she suspected and turn her away to save himself?
“Very well.” Cassian cleared his throat. “If that is how it is to be.”