Isobel nodded in understanding. If everyone else was working on bringing Rupert and DeLisle to justice, then it was down to her to do her bit too. After all, it was because of her that all of these people were now involved.
Rising from the bed, she began to select her clothing for the day, lost in quiet contemplation. She was aware of Dominic watching from the bed and was somewhat relieved when he made no move to follow her.
“What I don’t understand,” Isobel said, half to herself. “Is why me?”
“Pardon?” Dominic drew himself onto his elbow, so he could see her as she moved across the room.
“Why me? I mean I can’t be the only woman he knows. Even if he did get me to marry DeLisle, it wouldn’t pay his debts around Town.” Isobel froze as her uncle’s snarled words trickled slowly into focus.
“What is it?” Dominic watched her closely. She had gone desperately pale. “Isobel, what’s wrong?”
Snapping out of her reverie, Isobel felt flushed with urgency. “We need to get dressed.” She turned towards the retiring screen in the corner. “I need to think,” she mumbled, aware of Dominic’s dark scowl of discontent as he lay in the bed.
Later that morning, she decided that she really had no option, she had to tell Dominic everything. She wasn’t sure what he would make of it, but considered that he might be able to use any information her associate could give them, to help secure Rupert’s capture. He had taken his duties as her husband seriously, and made it perfect clear he was prepared to fight for her. It was up to her to make certain he was as armed as possible. First though, she had to make sure she wouldn’t be landing poor Hubert in jail.
Unfortunately Dominic left later that day with Sebastian to question some of the villagers as to the possible whereabouts of Rupert. If he was still residing on the other side of the village, Dominic wanted to know about it.
For Isobel the day dragged on interminably until she thought she would go quietly mad. When they had returned, Dominic had taken only a few moments to converse with her about her day before excusing herself and disappearing into the library with his brothers and Peter. Isobel wasn’t certain if she was relieved they were taking the quest to vanquish Rupert so seriously, or disgruntled they were so easily leaving her out. Surely, to ensure her own safety, she needed to be involved in their preparations, shouldn’t she?
Later that evening, having picked at a lonely dinner in her suite, Isobel threw the book down on the table beside the bed with a disgruntled sigh and blowing out the light, settled down. Whatever plans they were making downstairs, they had made a big mistake not involving her, Isobel thought waspishly, because without the information Hubert could give them, their plans were certain to fail. Disgruntled at the ease in which they had all relegated her to being a helpless female, Isobel tossed and turned knowing that sleep would be a long time coming.
Dominic awoke with a groan, feeling somewhat green around the gills. Frowning with consternation, it took him several minutes to realise he was in one of the guest rooms. It took him several minutes more to recognise the guest room across the hall from the master suite. It was as close to Isobel as he could get without actually sleeping across the doorway, or in the room with her. Yesterday he had deliberately avoided her to give her time to think about the information he was certain she was withholding. Information Dominic knew she was deliberately keeping from him to protect another man. It rankled him greatly.
“Oh God,” Dominic gasped, as his stomach roiled in protest against the volume of brandy he had consumed the previous evening. He, Peter, Edward and Sebastian had spent a lot of time, well into the early hours of the morning, making plans and preparations for the upcoming confrontation. Although for the life of him he couldn’t remember what they had agreed upon.
Sitting on the side of the bed Dominic briefly rested his head in his hands. If the harsh sunlight pouring through the windows was any indication, it was well past noon. Isobel would be furious with him over yesterday as it was. To ignore her the following morning too was courting trouble. He would be lucky if he would be allowed to share her bed that night either. Not that he could blame her, Dominic thought with a rueful glance down at his soiled shirt.
Jaw clenched, Dominic rose and pulled several times upon the bell pull summoning Travis, his personal Butler, before finally succumbing to the demands of his stomach behind the retiring screen.
Nearly two hours later he emerged from the master suite, fully dressed and feeling somewhat more alive. Having been obliquely informed by Travis that the staff had been looking after Isobel quite adequately, Dominic headed in search of his wife.
Several minutes later he quietly entered the library, a tender smile suffusing his features as he spied her propped up against a mound of cushions, a tray of tea pots and what appeared to be honey cake at her elbow. She was sound asleep.
God she was beautiful, Dominic thought as he studied her delicate features relaxed in repose. Even in slumber, she was a stunning sight to behold. Her hair had already grown long enough to form ringlets cascading around her delicate oval face. Pink rosebud lips were slightly parted as her breath puffed out slowly as she slept. Dominic knew the periwinkle blue eyes were hidden behind her closed lids densely outlined by thick black lashes. Fashionable or not, her slightly exotic features were indeed a sight to behold. He could only thank heaven that she was his.
He was loathe to wake her. Dominic turned, and quietly began to make his way out of the room. By the time he got to the door, he changed his mind, and decided instead that he would much prefer to spend a few minutes with her – even while she was asleep. Selecting a book from the vast array on offer, he quietly settled into a lushly padded winged chair nearest to her and settled down to read.
Isobel woke slowly feeling a little refreshed if slightly out of sorts. Although she had done very little physically since waking that morning besides talk to various staff, she had fallen asleep within a few hours of being downstairs. Gradually, she became aware of the presence of a dark figure seated beside her. Without looking, she knew who it was.
“Good afternoon Isobel,” Dominic watched as her sleepiness evaporated leaving her alert and very much awake.
“Good afternoon,” Isobel replied, stifling a yawn as she shifted somewhat stiffly. “Have you been here long?” She wondered why he hadn’t bothered to wake her.
“Only for a short while, I am afraid we imbibed rather more than was wise last night.” Dominic smiled somewhat sheepishly.
Isobel knew she should be miffed with him, but couldn’t find it within her to resent him spending an evening with his brothers. He had a boyish look of mischief about him that made her want to crawl into his lap and smother his face in kisses. It took everything within her to remain still and merely return his smile.
“Have you eaten?” Isobel looked questionably at the bell pull. Having spent the morning in the library, she knew she only had to wait for several moments, and one of the staff would be along anyway.
“I am alright thank you. Manvers brought me a tray some time ago,” Dominic replied, eyeing the cake hungrily.
“Can I ask you something?” Isobel asked, placing two slices of cake on a plate and handed it to Dominic silently. At his smile of thanks and brief nod, she continued. “Have you asked the staff to keep an eye upon me?”
Dominic froze in the act of putting a piece of cake into his mouth, a frown of consternation upon his brow. “No, why?” Being held mere inches from his nose the cake smelt wonderful. He took a bite and moaned softly when the sweet taste of honey and cake exploded in his mouth.
“No reason,” Isobel replied, as she settled back once again against the cushions not believing him for a second. So much for honesty. Although she had been pampered beyond belief, she hadn’t managed to have the quiet morning reading as she had wished. Still, she was so comfortable, and full from the delicious honey cake Mrs Potts had brought her, she couldn’t find it within her to be annoyed.
Companionable
silence settled between them as Dominic settled back to enjoy his treat. He finished the last bite with a sigh and settled back to watch Isobel, who was now looking out of the window. His heart ached at the sight of her sitting so gloriously within the soft halo of afternoon sunlight.
“How do you feel today?” He already knew the answer. Isobel’s alabaster cheeks were softly coloured with a peach tinge, giving her a healthy glow. Her periwinkle eyes had slowly lost the haunted look of fear that would haunt him for the remainder of his days.
“I am much better thank you. All of the staff have been pampering me. I fear I shall soon have to take up some form of exercise else I shall turn into a dumpling,” she said, glancing at the honey cake still sitting beside her.
Dominic knew he had to inform her of the decisions he, his brothers and Peter had made the night before, however, given her contentment he found himself unable to bring tension and worry back upon her face. Keeping conversation light and jovial, they chatted companionably for some time before there was a soft knock at the door, and a maid entered.
“Cook said to ask if you would like some more tea ma’am,” the young maid asked with a small smile of pride. It was indeed an honour to be sent up to tend to the new lady of the house. The staff belowstairs were abuzz with how gentle, and kind, the Master’s new wife was and the maids had all been eager to be the one allowed to check up on her.
“Not for the moment thank you Maisie,” Isobel replied after Dominic’s negative shake of his head. She was so busy swinging her legs down and smoothing down her skirt, she missed the smile of delight that suffused the young maid’s face that the lady had remembered her name, or the watchful Dominic taking in the scene thoughtfully.
“I need to talk to you about something,” Isobel began hesitantly, unsure how to raise the question.
“Go ahead,” Dominic propped his booted feet on the window seat next to Isobel’s hip effectually preventing her from leaving.
Isobel eyed his feet warily. “If a magistrate broke the law but for the right reasons, could he go to prison anyway?”
Dominic frowned and considered her question for a moment. Her features remained impassive, but he was certain she was tense as she waited for his answer. The pieces of the puzzle began to fit together and it took all of Dominic’s self control to remain perfectly still.
“Depends what you mean by ‘for the right reasons’ Isobel. Breaking the law is breaking the law, whoever does it. But if there is a reasonable explanation and a good enough motive for breaking the law, then matters might be seen in a more lenient light. It depends what the magistrate has done.”
Silence settled around them. Isobel felt sure he could hear her heart thumping.
“He helped tell a lie.” Isobel looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
“He led us to believe you were dead when he knew you were alive,” Dominic added blandly unsurprised when she didn’t argue. “Did he arrange for the death papers and the church entry to be forged?”
Isobel nodded slowly, waiting for his burst of anger.
“Someone needs to meet with him,” Dominic said thoughtfully, somewhat relieved she had finally revealed the truth.
Isobel couldn’t keep the astonishment from her face. Was he not angry? She suddenly wondered just how much he knew but wasn’t telling her.
Ruefully Dominic added, “It would have helped if Rupert had met with this Magistrate Williams first.”
“The fact Hubert had the necklace when he met you suggests they didn’t meet him, surely?” Isobel reasoned. The thought of Rupert and DeLisle being so close to finding her chilled her to the bone.
“Not necessarily.” Dominic shook his head regretfully. “The magistrate might not have handed it to Rupert or DeLisle like he did us. Peter just took it from him, and put it into his pocket knowing it was yours. The magistrate didn’t ask for it back.”
He was reluctant to add that the Magistrate undoubtedly understood how devastated both men were. Anger surged at the man’s heartless duplicity. He had known Peter was Isobel’s brother, yet had said nothing. Why? He knew he could badger Isobel with the questions that gnawed at him, but also knew that if there was anything else she had yet to tell him, he had to give her time.
“Thank you,” he said, drawing her attention towards him before adding softly. “For trusting me enough to take into your confidence about what really happened.” He didn’t add ‘at last’, but the sentiment hung in the air between them.
“He helped me Dominic. The only way he knew how. He wanted me to stay with him and his family, but I couldn’t take the risk that Rupert would appear. He did assure me that he was going to make inquiries of his own into Rupert and DeLisle’s activities,” Isobel added noticing the deep smudges beneath Dominic’s eyes, but given the excesses of the previous night, could find little sympathy for him.
“I can understand why he felt the need to tell us you were dead, but he had confirmation that Peter was your brother. He discussed arranging for you to be interred in the crypt at Willowbrook for God’s sake. Why didn’t he bring himself to tell us the bloody truth?” Dominic’s temper surged as the memories of those horrifying days mired in grief refused to be held at bay.
“He probably wasn’t sure,” Isobel said hesitantly, unsure herself.
Dominic huffed. “But he told us you were dead Isobel,” his voice rose. “Dead, for God’s sake. We grieved for you. We believed you were gone. Brutally murdered.” He ran an unsteady hand through his hair in frustration at the memory of the unnecessary pain and suffering both he and Peter had experienced. “He knew Peter was your brother. He knew the lies that had been established by Rupert - the situation Rupert had put you in - so why didn’t he tell us the truth himself?”
“I told him to tell everyone who came looking for me that I was dead. I think he took me at my word and told everyone, including you. Hubert isn’t the type of man who would deliberately lie to anyone unnecessarily. Something may have made him more cautious than usual.”
“Rupert,” Dominic’s voice turned wintry.
“Hubert became my father’s best friend, Dominic, after my father saved his life. He and his wife visited us often towards my father’s latter years. Peter was away at University and never met him. As my father lay dying, Hubert promised that should either Peter or I need anything, he would give us any help needed.” Isobel rose to her feet. “When I was alone, I found myself near to his house, having taken another wrong turn somewhere, I don’t know where. I knew that I was taking a risk that he could just hand me over to Rupert, but had to take the chance he wouldn’t and would honour his promises instead. Between us, we concocted the story of my murder. A woman loosely fitting my description had been found murdered in that village, and Hubert thought it best if we used that to confirm the story that it was me. If Rupert thought I was dead he would give up his chase, and I would be free enough to wend my own way for the few weeks, until I became five and twenty.”
“When you would be old enough not to need a guardian,” Dominic added with a reluctant nod of understanding.
“When I was old enough to come into the money, and property I inherit in my own right from my Grandmother, and become old enough not to need a guardian,” Isobel corrected, thinking of Gosport House, and the large fortune left to her from her mother’s side of the family.
“All Hubert had to do was buy you time,” Dominic said, somewhat mollified but not completely forgiving of the man’s duplicity. “But surely, knowing you were alive, when Peter and I turned up, he should have felt sufficiently reassured to tell us the truth? Why maintain the lie?” It would take some time before he could bring himself to forgive, much less forget one of the darkest moments of his life.
“Because he had never met Peter. All he had was your word and Peter’s word you were who you said you were. He was doing it to protect me Dominic. Please don’t be angry with him for that,” Isobel pleaded softly. She knew that if it wasn’t for Hubert, she would have p
robably been caught by Rupert at some point.
Isobel could sense Dominic’s darkening mood. “I am tired. I think I shall retire for a lie down.” She squeaked when she was suddenly swept upward, and held tight against Dominic’s chest.
Several moments later the door to the master suite closed quietly behind them. Isobel was about to step away from him only to find her hand clasped within his warm one preventing her from moving deeper into the room. Raising a querying brow, her stomach suddenly tightened as she studied his almost stern countenance. Shadows lurked in the depths of his emerald eyes as he studied her face carefully.
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he studied her lips, his face so close to hers, she could feel the soft brush of his breath upon her cheek. “Thank you for trusting me.” He stared into her eyes intently appeased when nothing but clear honesty shone back at him.
Isobel’s stomach tightened as she stared into his intent gaze. Slowly, his head lowered until she felt the soft brush of his lips against hers.
Isobel awoke the next morning feeling incredibly warm and secure. During the long months alone, she had never considered for a moment that she would ever experience such tenderness as her husband had shown her the night before. Even before they had made love, she adored him. Now? She would gladly give her soul to spend the remainder of her days lying in his arms.
Heaving a deep sigh of contentment, she stretched a little and wiggled her toes against the cool sheets, stopping suddenly as her toes made contact with a well muscled, hairy leg.
“That tickles,” Dominic grumbled ruefully from above her head.
Isobel smiled softly up at him, delighted at his gentle smile was quickly followed by a slow kiss.
“How do you feel this morning?” Dominic asked her, his voice husky with sleep.
“A little sore but wonderfully alive,” Isobel replied, pushing herself onto her elbow to lean over her husband.
If You Were Mine Page 14