Page 39 of What the Lady Wants
She had no more private speech with anyone while they remained at the Castle. When it came time to leave, Lady Carston embraced her tightly and wished her well, as did Cassandra and her new mother-in-law, who was weeping much as her own mother had wept that day in 1814, when she’d married for the first time and embarked on her new life. Lord Irlam shook her hand, and congratulated her, and if he had any private thoughts about her treatment of his cousin, he did not reveal them in his manner or on his face. He appeared to be an entirely uncomplicated young nobleman, but Isabella was beginning to realise that he wasn’t quite that. Appearances could be deceptive, and she was not the only person who was more than she seemed. And these people she knew so little of were her family now.
She was glad to be alone with Leo at the end of all this, despite her anxiety over her impending confession and his reaction to it, having been aware of him as a quietly supportive presence throughout what she could only see as an ordeal. When he took her hand in the carriage, and spoke to her so gently, she let go of a little of the rigid control that had sustained her for so long and sought the comfort of his embrace.
She wasn’t weeping, but she was trembling with suppressed emotion, and he must be aware of it. He held her, his arms strong about her, and she relaxed into his hold, her head on his shoulder. It had been a tiring day, and it was not over yet. He did not speak, and she was glad of it. This was not the place nor the time for the conversation they urgently needed to have. He seemed prepared to hold her for as long as she required, in spite of everything she had done to him and how she had made him suffer, and so in what she knew to be a childlike way she allowed herself to be soothed by him, and by the rocking motion of the carriage, and in a surprisingly short time they arrived at Winter Manor and pulled up before the porch. The lights inside the house were lit – dusk was falling already, so late in the year – and the old building looked warm and welcoming. She belonged in places like this, she thought, not in castles. If only she could make it right!
The servants had been waiting in the hall, or near it, and came spilling out to greet them in a confusion of handshakes and good wishes. Leo picked her up – it was plain that they expected it – and carried her across the threshold to the accompaniment of cheers. And then they were alone again, in a room she’d never seen before – but then last time all she’d seen was his study, and this was a sitting room. It was a charming room, another woman’s room with all her much-loved possessions in it, and the sight of it made her heart ache. It was so much like her mother’s chamber and spoke so strongly to her of a secure and happy lifethat she might never know if she could not now make herself understood and believed.
It was time – long past time, in truth – and as they stood regarding each other in the quiet, pleasant room where a fire crackled and popped, Isabella knew she must speak.
Leo was engaged in taking off his greatcoat, and she cast aside her warm shawl and set to unbuttoning her braided spencer. She crossed to the mirror above the fireplace but found that she was not tall enough to see herself in it in order to take off her veil. He saw her predicament and came to help her, pulling out the pins with deft fingers and setting them down carefully on the mantel. His gentleness brought a lump to her throat. When the veil was freed, he removed it and handed it to her wordlessly. She took it and set it aside with a shaky smile of thanks. ‘It’s very old and precious Alençon lace from before the Terror – I’m not sure that it is even made any longer. Lady Irlam found it in a trunk of your late aunt’s belongings, and lent it to me, so I must see that it is returned to her.’ She was babbling nervously; why was she talking such nonsense?
‘I saw you speaking to her,’ he said, apparently happy to accept the diversion. ‘She was rather intense in her manner, and so it seemed to me that she was apologising to you, as well she might. Was I correct?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘She did seem to be very sorry, and I accepted her apology. She asked me to tell you that she was aware she had wronged you too, and hoped you would forgive her, and I said I would.’
‘It is not my place to refuse forgiveness, if you have given it. But you have cleared the air between you? It was good of you to be so gracious, I think.’
She shrugged, half-embarrassed, half-impatient, with him and with herself. ‘We’re none of us perfect, and I must believe she meant well, and did not intend any mischief. I choose tobelieve – I may be wrong, but if I am I’d rather not know it – that your cousin had not told her of my condition, and so she could not be aware of the full implications of what she was doing to me when she tricked me. Although I know you told him.’
He’d said as much in his hurt and fury when she had come to him in his study here, but still he looked anxious and a little ashamed when she mentioned it. ‘Isabella, I must tell you that I am sorry?—’
She cut him off ruthlessly. It was time. ‘Don’t apologise. I’m not angry. I have no reason at all to be angry with you. Quite the reverse is true. Leo, I need to tell you something of the greatest importance. Will you sit down and let me explain, while I still have the courage to do so?’
He could do no other than nod in agreement, his face even more troubled than it had been a moment ago. He sat on the comfortable-looking sofa before the fire, looking up at her, waiting. She considered sitting beside him, but it didn’t seem enough for such a momentous occasion, so she crossed the carpet and sank down to kneel at his feet, her green skirts billowing about her. She took his hands between hers and drew in a deep breath.
‘I realised something, last time we were together in this house,’ she began. ‘Please let me speak for a moment, while I try to tell you, though I fear I will make a sad hash of it. When I came rushing to your side, terrified that you had been badly hurt, that you might die, I was entirely overset and full of bitterest regret. I was thrown into confusion, all my certainties overturned, and then afterwards when we were so cruel to each other and hurt each other so much, I realised something that I should have realised long before. It was… a piercing sort of emotion, and very powerful. And unexpected. Completely unexpected.’ He did not say a word, obedient to her wish, but he made a sudden restless movement, and she looked down,focusing on their clasped hands, not daring in that moment to look at his face for fear of what she might see. ‘Among all my hurt and regret, I knew suddenly that I had been an utter fool, Bear, and that I loved you.’
His hands tightened on hers, and she gripped them back, hoping it was an auspicious sign and not mere shock that caused him to cling to her so. ‘It hit me like a thunderbolt. I honestly had no idea of it. It wasn’t just that I loved you then. It was more than that. I realised that love for you had been creeping up on me for a long time and I am such a fool I didn’t notice it. I was so busy with my list, I didn’t stop to think. My reasons for devising the list, for doing what I did, were all excellent, and I’m not ashamed of them – I needed to take back control of my life, and I have, though not at all in the way I intended. I loved Ash with all my heart, and I never meant to love again or believed I could. But I love you too, just as much. It’s different, what I feel for you, but it’s every bit as powerful and all-consuming. I didn’t think such a thing was possible, but I know now that it is.’
Isabella broke off in frustration, afraid that her words were having little effect. She looked up at him now, daring to do so at last because it was so important that she knew what he was thinking, but she could not read anything in his face; his expression was forbidding and his thoughts were entirely closed to her.
‘You realised this, days ago, and you said nothing?’ he managed at last. She could not deceive herself that she could hear any softness in his voice.
‘I was afraid you would not believe me.’ It was the simple truth.
‘I can certainly see why. You must admit your revelation is… highly convenient, for you and for your future.’ His words dropped into the quiet room like cold stones that fell upon herheart and sank heavily into it. This was what she had been so frightened of. This was why she had delayed so long.
‘I know it must appear so. I can’t blame you for your surprise and your doubt. I know you must think that I am desperate for you not to leave me, desperate not to be exposed to the gossip and censure that a separation so soon after marriage must cause. Desperate, I suppose…’ Her voice was cracking. ‘Desperate not to have to tell my parents of all people that our marriage is a sham. It would be idle to deny that that would hurt me greatly. But not for the reason you think. Because it isn’t a sham, Leo! I don’t want it to be sham, I want it to be real!’
He had not pulled his hands away from her grasp; perhaps he had almost forgotten she was clinging to him. But she had not; the feel of his cold fingers under hers gave her a little courage, and she went on. ‘I don’t care about the rest of the world or what they think of me, not even my parents if it comes to that; I only care about you. I have been in silent agony over the last few days, knowing I must speak but not daring to do so. You have made it very clear that you mean to leave me very soon, and in all honesty, I cannot blame you for it or beg you to stay. I know you must protect yourself from further hurt at my hands.’ She was weeping silently now, hot tears streaming down her face unregarded. She forced herself to go on. She could not expect or even want her tears to sway him; she needed to convince him that every word she spoke was true. ‘I love you with all my heart, my dearest, but my great fear is that I have treated you so badly, and hurt you so much, that you will not believe me, or if you do in the end believe me, it is too late and you do not care any more.’
46
DAMN THE LIST!
Leo sat looking at her in stunned silence. At his wife. For a long moment, he was incredulous, and could not believe his own ears. She was – she could not be, but she was – telling him that she loved him. It couldn’t be real. He’d called it up somehow, this fantasy, out of his enormous need for her. Or she was lying, as women sometimes were forced to, knowing how precarious her place in the world would be, and that of her unborn child, if he deserted her. He’d never thought her a liar – but she must be lying now.
But when she raised her eyes to his, the desperate anxiety and suspense in every lineament of her dear face told him that she was speaking nothing more or less than the truth. He’d always found her easy to read, and he could read her now. It was dazzling in its simplicity.
She loved him. She did.
He couldn’t speak. He must, he needed to reassure her, but he couldn’t. His heart was too full. He reached down with clumsy urgency and pulled her up into his arms. He set his hands either side of her face and held her there for a moment, and then from somewhere deep inside he found the ability to murmur withfierce intensity a few broken words. ‘Isabella! Isabella, my love, my love, my dearest love!’
And the relief and comprehension that flooded her face and banished all the worry was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen. There was no more need for words after that, not for a long time. They kissed, both of them at last fully aware of all that was hidden beneath their physical passion and constant need for each other. They lay in each other’s arms and kissed, sweet and deep and slow, and needed no more than that for a while.
At last, Isabella pulled back a little. She was lying in Leo’s close embrace and they were both flushed and breathless, dizzy. She said, ‘I’m sorry. So sorry I hurt you with my coldness when there was no need for it. I wish I could go back and alter that. I put you through so much unnecessary pain.’ He shook his head in vehement denial, and she knew that in this moment he would forgive her anything. It was wonderful, but she must not take it for granted or abuse it. She had to try to make him understand her, in so far as she understood herself. ‘Bear, I’m not like other people.’
All at once he was laughing as he looked up at her. ‘My love, I know that well enough! I don’t want you to be like other people. You’re unique, and I adore you for it.’
