Page 3 of Kingdom of Chains

‘Yes.’ She reached up and smoothed the fine hairs back from his face, like she had done his whole life.

He immediately knocked her hand away, cheeks turning red. ‘Stop. I am not a child anymore.’

That was so true and so heartbreaking. ‘I know.’ She gave him a weak smile, then drew a long breath. ‘Wish me luck.’

He began backing away. ‘Good luck.’

She crinkled her nose at him as she pushed the door open. Inside, the room was cold and the fireplace bare—just the wayshe liked it. The shaking of wings drew her attention to the large cage in the corner where Margery was now locked inside.

‘There you are,’ her mother said, rising from her chair. ‘Did His Lordship find you?’

Isabel wandered over to the cage. ‘He did.’

‘And?’

‘And we spoke.’

Lady Gwenore’s face was pure impatience. ‘About the wedding?’

The air left Isabel’s lungs on a sigh. ‘Yes, about the wedding. He has a trip planned. Perhaps we will marry after that.’

Gwenore stepped closer. ‘What do you mean,perhaps?’

Less than a minute into the conversation and Isabel was already exhausted. ‘There is no rush.’

‘Is that what he said?’

‘No.’ She turned to face her mother. ‘Are you sure this match is a good idea?’

Gwenore’s face fell a little.

‘I really do not care for him in that way,’ Isabel added.

‘The love comeslater. Every woman knows that.’

‘I have known the man for five years, and nothing has changed in that time.’

‘It will be different when you are wed, when you have the opportunity to be… close.’

That image had Isabel looking away. She had no interest in being intimate with him—or any other man, for that matter.

Gwenore closed the distance between them, taking her daughter’s left hand and holding it up between them. ‘Look at the scars on your hand.’

Isabel dropped her gaze to the unsightly skin.

‘It was Lord Hodge who dragged you from that burning house. The man has worshipped the ground you walk upon since you were fifteen years old.’

Isabel withdrew the unsightly hand and tucked it behind her back. ‘It might be a different story if the burns had been on my face.’

Her mother made an exasperated noise. The problem was she assumed Hodge was like his father, Lord Tompkin. Agoodman, anothersaviourof the family. But the new Earl of Hereford was more of an unsettling kind of hero.

‘Is all well between the two of you?’ Gwenore asked, holding her breath as she braced for Isabel’s reply.

What good would come of the truth? The family’s circumstances were what they were. She forced a smile. ‘All is well.’

Gwenore exhaled, then cupped her daughter’s face. ‘I know he is a very different sort of man, but we have built a life here at Hampstead. Your brother has such a bright future ahead of him. Inside these walls, you are the future Countess of Hereford. Outside these walls, you are nothing. Wehavenothing.’

‘We could always go live with our uncle.’

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