“Your Grace,” Hobbes said. “You have a letter from the Earl of Estnell.”
Isaac’s head shot up, his quill stilled and hovering above the parchment. Hobbes stood at the doorway with a silver platter balanced on his hand, and Isaac looked at it for a moment open-mouthed.
“Already?” he said. “That was remarkably quick. He must be keen to hear from me.”
“Indeed,” Hobbes replied. “Where would you like it, Your Grace?”
“Leave it on the table,” Isaac said, his tone more serious now. “I’ll get to it when I can. Thank you, Hobbes.”
Isaac feigned disinterest until the butler left, but as soon as he was on his own, he eagerly snatched the letter up and snapped open the seal. It was indeed from the Earl, and in his writing he sounded so elated that Isaac thought he may suspect his intention. The Earl was eager to meet with Isaac, he said, and suggested a time the following morning.
Chapter 20
Isaac was unfathomably nervous when he stepped from the carriage at the Estnell Estate, so much so that he found himself anxiously rubbing his thumb over his fingernails, a habit he had developed in his later years. He looked around the gardens and the entrance to the house and couldn’t help but feel it was a little sad, as though the building itself was a lonely, cold place.
Perhaps Henry Allen does have something to feel guilty about after all.
He walked up the few steps to the entrance just as the butler opened the door.
“Your Grace,” Miller said, bowing deeply. “The Earl is expecting you. Please follow me.”
As they wound their way through the house to the Earl’s study, Isaac could see that it had once been grand and modern. Now, though, it was sparse and lacking in life, and Isaac wondered how Diana had managed to become so full of vivacity when she lived in a place like this. He would give her the home she deserved.
How I wish I could, instead of hurting her.
Miller knocked on the door and entered without waiting.
“My Lord, may I present Lord Isaac Campbell, Duke of Gallonon.”
“Come in, come in,” the Earl said, beckoned eagerly with his hand, an over-large smile on his face as he rose from his seat in greeting. Isaac smiled at the man’s enthusiasm, so much that he almost found it endearing. Miller closed the door and Isaac entered the room properly.
“My Dear Boy,” the Earl said. “How you have grown.”
“I’m sorry?” Isaac asked, surprised.
“It’s good to see you again, Isaac—I mean, Your Grace. I apologize,” Henry said, unable to keep the grin from his face but shaking his head at the title. “It’s difficult to know what to call one, when we have known each other for so very long. Won’t you take a seat? It has been how long, now?”
Isaac took a deep breath, steadying himself against the Earl’s excited tirade of questions, and tried not to chuckle. He had only vague memories of the Earl from when he was a child, but Thomas’ descriptions had kept an image of him sharp in his mind.
He was an ogre, in his thoughts. An ugly man with an ugly sense of morality, and he never, ever smiled. Not at all like this excitable, cheerful man in front of him. A clever mask indeed.
He took a seat and smiled up at Henry, trying to make it as convincing as he could.
“It has been too long,” Isaac said. “And please, call me Isaac. You last saw me when I wore short trousers and ran around like a scamp. I think that warrants a lack of formalities.”
“Well, all right then, Isaac,” Henry said. “Thank you. You know, your Father was one of my very best friends, and I miss him every single day, even now.”
Isaac wanted to snort in derision. He knew what sort friend Henry Allen was to his father. Or at least, he thought now, he knew what sort of friend Thomas claimed him to be.
Have I been wrong all these years?
“I know he held you in his thoughts often, also,” Isaac said.
“Is that what you wished to talk to me about?” Henry asked. “Your Father?”
“No, actually,” Isaac said. “Although nostalgia is always something worth discussing, don’t you think?”
“I do,” the Lord Estnell said, a faraway glint in his eye.
Now that they sat opposite one another, Isaac could see Henry’s happiness was a façade—or at least, a shallow happiness. Underneath, there lay a deep melancholy, illustrated by the dark circles under his eyes and the sad way in which he held himself. It was as though he was weighed down by something, a bitterness perhaps. Or guilt?
What intrigued Isaac even further was that he recognized Thomas in Henry’s dejection, too. It was as though the two men experienced the same pains, the same concerns, that they carried the same remorse.
But how could that be possible?
“His death—” Henry said, trailing off, but he looked at the floor with such sadness that Isaac immediately wanted to make it better for him, just as he did when Thomas was sad.
“It was tragic, indeed,” Isaac said. “But let’s not talk of such things now. I am here to discuss something of a more positive nature.”
“Ah, yes,” the Earl said. “I have been wondering what could have motivated you to write after all this time, if not to discuss your Father. I suspect—or rather, I hope—that one of my daughters is involved.”
“That would be correct,” Isaac said. He picked a bit of imaginary dust from his cream summer trousers, distracting himself while he found the courage to continue. “It’s about Lady Diana, actually.”
“Diana?” Lord Estnell gasped, then he laughed loudly and Isaac looked at him in surprise.
“Yes, Lady Diana. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all, my Dear Boy. I was just so certain this would be about my Celine, not Diana. My eldest daughter is not one for socializing, shall we say?”
“Quite the contrary,” Isaac said, blinking in surprise. Diana had a habit of hiding in gardens, certainly, but to call her unsociable seemed unfair. “I think she is a wonderful conversationalist.”
“Oh, yes,” Henry said, smiling with pride and quickly hiding his error. “That sounds like my Diana. Such a bright and witty girl.”
“Yes, I agree—”
“And well read, too, you know?”
“We have discussed—”
“She would make someone a wonderful wife, given half the chance. An excellent mother, too, no doubt. Such a kind-hearted girl.”
“I know—”
“If a little spirited. But you don’t mind spirited, do you, Isaac?”
Isaac opened his mouth to reply, but then he laughed. He could see now from where Celine got the habit of interrupting. The Earl’s nerves shone through as clearly as his daughter’s.
“No,” he said. “I do not mind at all. In fact, I have become rather taken with your eldest daughter in recent weeks.”
“That is wonderful news,” Henry said, spreading his arms wide as though already welcoming Isaac to the family. “She really is a lovely girl. And beautiful, too, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Isaac smiled. “Yes, she is indeed very beautiful.”
“She takes after her mother, you know,” Henry said a little wistfully. “That mass of red hair. My Kitty was quite the looker in her day.”
“I am sorry I never had the opportunity to meet her,” Isaac said.
“She would have been so proud of both my girls.”
“I am sure she would have. Lord Estnell—”
“Henry, please.”
“Henry, then,” Isaac said with a bow of his head, although he was becoming flustered with the Earl’s rapid conversation. “I came here with a specific intention in mind.”
“Heavens,” Henry said in almost a squeal. “I have been waiting for this moment for too long.”
He fanned himself like a swooning maiden, and Isaac looked at him aghast, his behavior so out of the ordinary, so unusual. As though he had quite forgotten how to have a normal conversation with another gentleman. But then he chuckled, happ
y to see such delight from something he had said. It made such a change, after seeing only Thomas’ scowls day after day.
“I—” Isaac didn’t know quite what to say, and so he looked down at his lap and smiled to himself.
“I’m sorry, Isaac. I’m getting ahead of myself. Perhaps we can start again. You say you came here with an express intention?”
“Yes,” Isaac said, calmer now. “As I said, Lady Diana and I have grown rather close over the past weeks and I would like to offer my hand to her in marriage. I know that we will need to discuss the finer negotiations—a dowry and so forth—but I believe this could be a beneficial match for both our families.”
“Yes,” Henry said, almost unthinkingly.
“Yes?” Isaac asked.
“Yes, I think you would make a good match. And to make things even better, listening to you speak of Diana reminds me of how I used to speak of my dear Kitty. I can tell you love her, Isaac, from your words and from the glint in your eye. A good match with a wealthy gentleman who can look after her is important to me, but a match with love is important to her.”
He can see I love her? Is it that obvious?
Isaac felt a rise in panic then—not too serious, not too overwhelming, but a little catch in his breath at the fear that perhaps Thomas would be able to see it, too. He forced the thought from his mind, refocusing on Henry.
“Well, in that case, do we have an agreement?” Isaac asked. He felt his pulse in his throat, tapping out the rhythm of his nerves, his excitement, and he held his breath as he awaited the answer he was looking for. He wanted this so very badly—for her, for Thomas, for their father. But mostly, and without a doubt, for love.
“Ah,” Henry said, bowing his head again. “I am certainly willing to make this agreement, but we must see what see Diana herself has to say about it. I could never agree to something without her approval.”
“That is very admirable, Henry,” Isaac said, impressed by Henry’s kindness to his daughter.
Could this man really be what Thomas claims him to be?
“I shall call for her now.”
Diana lounged in the garden, enjoying the sunshine, the birdsong, the scent of the grass. She had a book beside her, but she couldn’t focus on the words with so many thoughts of Isaac swirling around in her head.
Cocoa lay beside her, snoring gently, and she looked down at him and smiled. She would leave the dog with her father when she married, so that he would have some company. She would miss him, but her father needed him more. She would have Isaac, after all.
It was another beautiful day and the colors in the garden made it seem even brighter. For her good cheer, Diana had chosen a bright-red gown, with a high waist and puffed sleeves. She wore a straw bonnet complete with a matching ribbon, and her red shoes lay on the ground beneath the bench.
“I wonder if he has written to Father yet,” she said to Cocoa, but the dog only snored in reply. “I should like to know if I am to be a Duchess. I wonder if my marital home will have such lovely gardens. What do you think, Cocoa?”
The dog opened one eye and glared up at her before snorting and returning to his doze.
“Yes, you’re probably right, Cocoa. I don’t believe Isaac could have written yet—I would have known from Father’s excitement, surely? Father will be pleased I have finally found someone, and I am sure he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. It is not often something happy happens in his life, and I just know he would want to share it.”
Cocoa huffed and sat up, stretching his neck and his front legs, then looked up at her, tongue lolling at the side. She chuckled and tickled him beneath his ear. Cocoa was the best and most trusted confidante a girl could have.
“It is rather warm, isn’t it?” she said, not pulling her hand from his soft face. “I should imagine my own tongue will hang out like yours if it gets much hotter.” She picked the dog up and buried her face in his fur, laughing all the while.
“Lady Diana?” Mary said from the path behind the bench. Diana turned to face her maid, a contented smile on her face. She felt truly happy, at peace in the sunshine, and looking forward to the future ahead.
“Yes, Mary, what is it?”
“Your Father wishes to see you in his study,” she said.
Diana’s heart instantly sank. Every time her father had summoned her of late, it was to argue about her not finding a suitor. She did not want another disagreement with him, not when she felt so at peace.
“Is he in good humor?” she asked.
“I haven’t seen him, My Lady. I was asked by the butler to pass on the message. I am given to understanding he wishes to see you immediately, though. And I was told to tell you he has found what you were looking for. A little cryptic, but I am not privy to anything further.”
“He has found what he I have been looking for?”
Diana’ heart thumped. He had found her a suitor, and it wasn’t Isaac, and she was to be married to some brute of her man her father had chosen on a whim. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for what was to come.
“I know nothing more, My Lady, only what I was told. Are you coming now?”
“All right,” Diana said, “I’ll come immediately.” She rose from the bench. There was a familiarity in this action. It reminded her of the other time he had called her to his study, when she had walked through the house and saw how sad it looked. She prayed this meeting would be better.
She made her way to his study, then knocked meekly on the door and waited for him to answer. She entered, her heart thudding with anxiety, but as soon as she opened the door she gasped in relief.
Isaac is here.
Her knees felt weak beneath her and she grabbed hold of the door handle to steady herself for fear she would collapse onto the floor in a muddle. She tried to smile but she was so shocked she wasn’t entirely certain she could. Still, she felt the corners of her lips tug into something akin to a grin, and he grinned back at her.
“Diana, My Dear,” Henry said. “I see you have made the acquaintance with the Duke of Gallonon, here.”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly, not taking her eyes from him and not daring, still, to let go of the door.
“Well,” her father continued. “He has come to me today with a request. He has asked for your hand—”
“Yes,” she said, not letting him finish his sentence. “Absolutely yes. There is nothing more to say, but yes.”
“You mean to say—”
“I mean to say yes, Father. I wish to marry him,” she said, finally pulling her eyes from Isaac and looking at her father. She smiled so sweetly, so lovingly at him, and she could see the happiness bubbling up underneath his surface calm. As if the day wasn’t happy enough, to see her father overjoyed was a wonder.
“We have found you a suitor,” he said. “At long last!”
“And it was worth the wait,” Diana said, a wry smile.
“Yes,” Henry agreed. “Perhaps it was. I know the Gallonon family to be exceptional. I shall leave you both alone for a few moments, but please before I go—I cannot express how happy I am for this arrangement to go ahead.”
He slipped from the room, closing the door quietly.
“I cannot wait to spend all my time with you,” Diana said. “I have been dreaming about it all day.”
She stepped up to him, looked up into his eyes, and he let his hands brush gently on her arms. She shivered.
“And I you,” he said.
He leaned down and gave her a chaste, quick kiss before stepping back. So formal, so simple.
Something twisted inside her, worried at how stiff he was, how distant.
Have I done something wrong?
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, smiling down.
“Are you sure?” she asked, a snake of tension running through her. “You seem…different.”
“I am more than all right now that I know we are to be married. I give my life to you, Diana. I give you
my all.”
Chapter 21
“Good afternoon, Brother,” Thomas said as he entered Isaac’s study. He had not even knocked—yet again—and Isaac glared up at him.
“Good afternoon to you, too. Please, come in.”
“Why would you invite me in? I am already in.”
“It was…” Isaac closed his eyes and shook his head, “never mind. What is the matter?”
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