If You Were Mine

by King, Rebecca

  “We need to decide who is going to do what, and how we are going to go about them keeping Isobel out of the loop,” Peter added. “I don’t want her getting involved unless she absolutely has to.”

  Dominic nodded. “We do need to ask her to tell us what happened, and how she came to be removed from Willowbrook. It is imperative we find out who was involved, but need to do it without her realising we are going to bring Rupert down.”

  Peter nodded in agreement.

  As the clock ticked steadily on the mantle, both men settled back in their seats and began to plan.

  Isobel awoke the following morning alone. Last night had been the first night since her arrival at Havistock Hall that Dominic hadn’t joined her in the master suite. She wasn’t sure if she preferred him there or not. Certainly, there was nobody there to argue with her if she decided to get up.

  Shooting a calculating look at the distance between the bed and the walnut table standing along the far wall, she guessed it was a distance she could manage by herself. Easing the sheets backwards, she waited to see if the dizziness she had experienced over the past few weeks would returned, and was relieved when there was no sign, leaving her to see to her morning ablutions unhindered. Luckily, Peter had brought a large selection of her wardrobe with him, and these gave her ample selection to choose from.

  Moments later, adorned in her favourite cornflower blue linen dress Isobel slowly closed the bedroom door behind her. A quick glance to the right revealed a doorway leading to a set of stairs, clearly servant’s stairs. To the left was a longish corridor leading to what Isobel could only assume was the main staircase. Slowly, she took the left corridor. She paused when she reached the upper landing, waiting for her trembling legs to steady beneath her as she studied the awfully long, sweeping staircase leading down to the ornate entrance hall in consternation. She had done very well so far, even if she did say so herself, but could she manage such a long staircase unaided?

  “Ahem.”

  Isobel jumped with alarm as a footman appeared from somewhere behind her.

  “Sorry ma’am,” he said politely, offering her a deep bow. “Would you like me to escort you down the stairs?” He held out an elbow, clearly waiting to assist her.

  Isobel looked at the long sweeping steps before turning back towards the footman.

  She arched a brow in question.

  “Edwards, Ma’am,” the footman said.

  “Thank you, Edwards.” Isobel took the pro-offered elbow gratefully. “I hadn’t realised how large this house was.”

  “It is a rather grand place, ma’am,” the young man replied, carefully manoeuvring them down the stairs. Isobel was so intent on keeping her knees from buckling beneath her and falling down, she missed the frantic signal the footman gave to the upstairs maid who quickly scurried off towards the servant’s stairs.

  She had no sooner got to the last few steps, when Dominic appeared at the bottom.

  “Where do you think you are going?” Dominic asked, stunned at the vision before him. Although thinner than she had been before, her hair had grown significantly longer and curled tantalizingly around her delicate face. Her slightly tanned skin held a slight flush of good health. Even though her dress hung a little loosely on her, Dominic was pleased to note she had indeed put on some of her original weight and looked far healthier than she had been. One could almost be fooled into thinking she was back to full health, if you ignored the slightly rasping breathing.

  “I have had enough of being in bed. It is time I got up.” Isobel raised her chin defiantly as she slowly descended the last few steps. “I was going to -” She paused, and looked inquiringly at the man beside her.

  “The library, my Lady,” Edwards offered, wondering if he had overstepped the mark at his suggestion. It was the only room he could think of with a lit fire and he, like the rest of the house staff, felt sympathetic toward the young woman on his arm.

  “Yes, I was just going to the library,” she announced, skirting cautiously around Dominic, just in case he took it into his head to pick her up and return her to the bedroom.

  “Then that is where you shall go, my dear Lady,” Dominic replied and swept an astonished Isobel off her feet.

  “I can walk,” Isobel grumbled. Within minutes she was carefully placed among the plush cushions upon the chaise lounge in a room literally crammed full with row upon row of books.

  “Have you had breakfast?” Although the hour was long past the breakfast hour, Dominic knew Cook would be happy to make anything Isobel wanted. Indeed, most of his house staff seemed to have taken it upon themselves to oversee Isobel’s recovery themselves.

  “I am not very hungry,” Isobel replied, and paused at the slight frown of concern that immediately appeared on Dominic’s dace. “I shall send for some tea and cakes, if Cook has any, later.” Ignoring his towering presence, Isobel began to arrange her skirts carefully around her knees, only to find a thick rug draped casually over her knees by the ever-attentive Edwards. “Thank you.”

  “I shall ring for a maid. I am sure Cook can come up with something to whet your appetite.” He had noted the slight trembling in Isobel’s hands as she had arranged her skirts, and wondered if she was trying to hide her weakness from him. “How are you feeling this morning Isobel? Did you sleep well?” Dominic’s low murmur was interrupted by the arrival of Peter.

  “Peter!” Isobel was unable to hide her delight as her brother swept across the room towards her. She didn’t have time to stand before she was enveloped in a bear hug. Taking a deep breath, she was assailed with the same scent that had permeated the clothes she had taken out of his hidden drawer all of those months ago, and the sudden memory of that night flooded her. Tears sprang into her eyes, and she tightened her hold on him, suddenly needing the comfort of his hug.

  “Careful, my dear!” Peter laughed roughly, his tone husky as he gently eased to sit beside her.

  “I’m sorry,” Isobel sniffed, wiping tears from her eyes. “It is just your scent.” Her throat closed again, and she fought to contain the emotions the memories brought forward.

  “My scent? My dear, I do hope I don’t smell so much as to bring tears to your eyes!” He teased gently with a slight frown.

  Isobel laughed softly. “Oh, you!” She swatted at his shoulder with a watery hiccup. “It is just -” She paused, unsure how to explain. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it matters if it upsets you so,” Peter replied, aware that Dominic had moved to sit upon the chair beside them.

  “The clothes that I used on the night that I ran from Rupert’s, were yours,” she began quietly. “They smelled of you. It gave me the strength to do what I needed to do, to get away from him.”

  Peter hated to see the haunted look in his sister’s eyes. It was in such stark contrast to the cheerful person she usually was. “Then I can only be glad that I do smell,” Peter replied with a gentle smile. “Although, running away as you did gave us all cause for significant worry, even if it did save your life.”

  Isobel nodded as tears continued to flow.

  “Can you tell us more?” Dominic asked quietly, watching the maid deposit a tray of tea pots and pastries on the small table beside them.

  Isobel shook her head regretfully. “I shall one day, but not today,” her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.

  “It would help if you could confide in us my dear. We need to know exactly what Rupert said to you through the time you were with him,” Peter replied, hating to push her when she was so clearly upset, but he knew that if they were to seal Rupert’s fate once and for all, they had to get as much detail as possible. That unfortunately meant that Isobel had to remember, and tell them.

  “Please, not right now,” Isobel pleaded in a stronger voice. Shaking off the melancholy thoughts with a shrug of her shoulders, she wiped at the remaining moisture on her cheeks. “Now about that tea, is anybody going to pour?”

  “I shall,” Dominic said, rising to do just t
hat. “We do need to speak to you. Peter and I have been making plans, and they involve you.”

  “Oh?” Isobel’s brows rose questioningly at Peter. She didn’t like the idea of them plotting anything.

  “My dear, you have indeed been thoroughly compromised.” Peter moved to stand before the fire, his hands clasped behind his back. He reminded Isobel so much of her father, she almost felt as though she had been naughty.

  Well, you have, she chastised herself with a swift glance at Dominic, who sat nonchalantly sipping his tea and staring at his boots almost too intently.

  Isobel shifted uncomfortably and waited. “Dominic has offered for your hand,” Isobel’s heart lurched but she wisely remained silent. “I strongly urge you to accept his offer.”

  “And if I don’t?” Isobel asked, watching Peter scowl at her.

  “There really is no question that you must. Although you were ill at the time, the Ton will not react well to any gossip that you have lived, unchaperoned, in Dominic’s house – alone – for six whole weeks. Much less that most of the time, you were actually residing in his master suite!”

  “I don’t care what any of the Ton thinks,” Isobel snapped defiantly, carefully placing her teacup back on the table. “I will not be forced into matrimony because of mealy-mouthed gossips.” She was fully aware Dominic hadn’t taken his eyes off his boots.

  “I know but it has ramifications for all the family,” Peter began, knowing his sister well enough to read the stubborn tilt of her chin for what it was. Abject defiance.

  “What family?” Isobel replied quickly. “I – we – hardly have anyone left!” Isobel moved toward the window before turning on her heel to glare at her brother. “We have buried our parents,” she checked off her fingers. “We don’t have any other relations other than an uncle in Scotland whom we have never met, and Aunt Elspeth, who cannot be trusted not to gossip, and hasn’t moved in Ton circles for years, and Rupert, an insane despot who thinks more of his purse than us!” Isobel fought down the coughs that rasped in her throat as her temper bubbled.

  “What about Peter?” Dominic asked softly, finally drawing his eyes away from an intense study of his boots and raising a querying brow toward Isobel.

  “What about him?” Isobel gasped, her cheeks flushed with fury. “Whatever I do won’t have any impact on his choices.”

  “Won’t it?” Dominic argued. “Are you sure Isobel?”

  Isobel huffed. “It is widely known that any indiscretion women make is scandalous enough to provide fodder for the gossips of the Ton. She is shunned from society and cast as a harlot. Any man’s indiscretion is widely ignored, and rarely casts him into any disrepute whatsoever.” Isobel glared at both men in turn. “I don’t have any intention of moving within Ton circles, and I don’t care what they think of me. Where were they when I was out on my own? Who was there for me to turn to when I needed shelter when the weather turned cold?” She was aware she was practically shouting, but couldn’t stop the tide of despair that flowed through her. “Who was there to protect me from Rupert’s fists day after day?”

  She stopped, suddenly realising what she had just revealed. Stunned silence settled over the room. She stared at them in horror for several moments before she turned and fled from the room, unable to stand the sight the appalled shock on their faces. A wave of humiliation swept through her, pushing her legs to move.

  Dominic rose to follow her only for Peter to raise a restraining hand upon his arm. “Leave her. Let her go. She won’t thank you for your presence right now.”

  “He hit her,” Dominic snarled, and reluctantly resumed his seat. In reality, he wanted to hit something, namely Rupert. His stomach roiled with tension as he turned to his friend. “Goddamn it, the bastard beat her.”

  “You are a soldier Dominic. Don’t allow your anger to get in the way of the main battle.” Peter cautioned, fighting his own fury.

  “How in the hell can you be so remote?” Dominic snarled incredulously, glaring at his friend in disgust.

  “I’m not. I want to kill the bastard as much as you do. However, we must make sure that we aren’t moving too soon. He knows she is here, I am sure of it. I can almost feel him watching. We will let’s let him come to us. We’ll be ready.” Peter’s voice was menacing with ruthless intent.

  “I’ll go and check on her,” Dominic said, shoving to his feet. “I don’t want her alone.”

  Minutes later he entered the lady’s drawing room, quietly closing the door behind him with a click, he paused and studied the room. Isobel was curled up on the chaise before the roaring fire, her head in her hands on the arm of the seat, apparently asleep. On the table beside her lay another untouched tray of tea and pastries.

  She must have fallen asleep as soon as she sat down, Dominic mused. The room was cosy and warm, the shutters closed against the afternoon wintry chill. He crept quietly toward the chaise and knelt beside her. She was so beautiful. How in the hell could anybody hurt her? Unable to keep his hands off her any longer, he trailed a fingertip down the side of her cheek.

  Isobel slowly became aware of being watched and tickled. Easing her eyes open, she was unsurprised to find herself inches away from Dominic’s. His gentle green eyes scanned her face searchingly. Isobel was sure he was going to ask her more questions about Rupert.

  “I want you as my wife,” Dominic whispered softly, his fingertip moving down to curve around her lips. “Say yes.”

  “You don’t need to make the sacrifice for me, Dominic,” Isobel reasoned. “I know I have behaved wantonly; more of a harlot, than a lady.” She could sense his hesitation, and pushed herself upright until she was sitting on the side of the chaise. She didn’t add that she wanted, needed, to hear him declare some affection towards her. He had been protective, and caring, and tender, while she had been recovering. His generosity towards her had been boundless. Yet, a part of her desperately needed to hear the true depth of his feelings. Preferably, before she entered into a lifetime commitment to him.

  Isobel looked at him steadily. “I would make you a most unconventional wife, Dominic.” She chided softly, unable to come up with any more suitable argument with him so close, yet unable to tell him what she really wanted. She wasn’t sure she would like the outcome if he said he didn’t love her.

  “You of all men should know that. After all, most girls would be horrified at the mere suggestion of leaving the house unchaperoned, much less in the middle of the night.” She turned towards him with a sad smile. “Or of residing here, for six weeks, in your bedroom.”

  “I am glad you did,” Dominic declared with a smile.

  “Are you? Would your family be, if they knew what I have done?” Isobel asked, knowing that Dominic’s sense of chivalry was pushing him to ‘do the right thing’ by her, whether he really wanted her as his wife or not.

  “My family will adore you, of that I am certain,” Dominic said reassuringly, knowing she was looking for excuses. Isobel noted he said nothing about adoring her himself.

  “Maybe so, but you cannot ignore what has happened to me. The circumstances I have experienced that will certainly banish me from the Ton should it ever become known. It would certainly bring disgrace and embarrassment to anyone associated with me. Even if you discount what I have done, there is the looming disgrace of my uncle’s behaviour that will bring scandal upon the few remaining family members we have,” Isobel said, rising to stand on trembling legs.

  “Did you really have to go on a secret mission for the Prince Regent?” Isobel queried, quickly changing the subject. The thought of tarnishing Dominic’s good name made her want to cry, and she didn’t want him feeling sorry for her any more than he already did.

  She knew instinctively that he was about to push her further about the suitability of their marrying, and she didn’t think she had the strength to deny him if he really pushed her. With her entire future happiness at stake, entering into marriage with Dominic was something she wanted, needed, to do secure in the kno
wledge he was as in love with her as she was with him. Despite recent events, she couldn’t live with anything less.

  “Yes I did. I didn’t lie to you about it. I would never lie to you Isobel. Peter was with me and he wouldn’t lie either, you should know that,” Dominic reproached her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Several hours later, Isobel sat on the chaise in the drawing room. Peter and Dominic sat in the winged chairs on either side of the fireplace. The fire crackled heartily in the grate, giving the room a soft glow. Despite the intimate surroundings, Isobel could feel the tension fairly crackle in the air around them. She knew without asking that they were up to something.

  “Is someone going to tell me, or do I have to nag it out of you?” Isobel’s brow rose haughtily. She hadn’t missed the measured look that Dominic and Peter shared, before Peter coughed uncomfortably before turning towards her. Whatever it was, he was clearly reluctant to broach the subject, and was unsure how she would react. The small hairs on Isobel’s neck rose in alarm. Whatever it was they were about to impart, she knew she wouldn’t like it.

  “We need you to tell us, exactly, what happened while you were with Rupert.” Peter’s voice was gentle yet held a hint of underlying tension. Isobel was fully aware Dominic sat in silent contemplation of his boots, once again.

  She sat and listened carefully when Peter recounted events at Willowbrook that led to her being removed by Rupert, only interrupting to correct him on one or two minor points before nodding for him to continue. Once recounted, an expectant pause settled over them and she knew what they wanted. Her stomach dropped to her knees. Suddenly the sumptuous dinner she had just consumed, felt like a lead weight in her belly.

  Silence stretched between them for several moments.

  “We need to start at the very beginning, darling,” Dominic declared softly, handing Isobel a tea cup, liberally laced with brandy. “I know this is going to be difficult, but if you feel you need to shout and get angry, do so. But please don’t spare us. We have, after all, both fought on the battlefields and have seen man at his worst. There is nothing you cannot tell either of us that would shock us.” He smiled softly at her knowing how much she was dreading this. Her hand trembled as she took a careful sip of the warm brew, before settling the cup on her lap with a rattle.