Isabelle smiled, gaining control again. “I’m sorry, I’m being foolish. It’s just frustrating when someone I thought was a friend cannot be satisfied with my friendship.” She explained.
“Mr Ollerton?” Tom asked, and when she nodded he walked away from her a little, running his hands through his hair. “I have some sympathy with the man,” he said eventually turning back towards her.
“What?” Isabelle almost whimpered. She was baffled and astounded by his response. She did not know if she could stand to be condemned by him of all people, when his good opinion had come to mean more to her than anything else.
“Do you ever really look at yourself in your looking glass?” Tom asked, approaching her and holding her by the shoulders. He seemed to want to shake her, but managed to restrain himself, just gripping her tightly. “You just don’t seem to see what everyone else sees. I understand modesty and you are modest which is to your credit, but for God’s sake you can drive a man almost to distraction. You are surrounded by men who would spend their lives trying to make you happy, but you reject them all without realising what torment you are inflicting. Yes I do have some sympathy with him.”
Isabelle tried to shake off his hands, but he kept hold of her. “I am honest with everyone. How can you say that I am tormenting them as if I set out to cause pain?” She demanded.
“Because you’ve even driven me mad this past week,” came the husky response.
Isabelle was shocked into silence before finding herself drawn to him. She saw the look in his eyes and knew she should pull away, but she could not, she was compelled to respond to him. If she was seen her reputation would be ruined, but she did not care. He took her in his arms and she was pressed against his coat. She felt the firmness of his chest underneath his clothing. As he bent and kissed her head, she moved and turned to face him. He hesitated but then moved his head towards her lips. Isabelle opened her mouth slightly; she almost held her breath as she waited for his lips to meet hers. It seemed an eternity before he finally brushed her lips gently, but then he pulled away.
“I’m sorry, that should never have happened.” He said moving away from her and looking around to see if anyone had seen them. They were alone and the look of relief was apparent on his face.
“Was it that bad?” Isabelle tried to make light of it, but she was reeling from what had happened.
Tom shot her a pained look. “Don’t ever think that anything to do with you is not perfect. But let us not forget that I am like you in that I do not intend to marry, so I do not place myself in such positions where I could be forced into marriage.”
“I would not force you or anyone into marriage! Would you have not stopped if you had known that before?” Isabelle hated herself for it, but she needed to know why he as a confirmed rake had rejected her.
“What do you think? I could ruin you. I may have already done so if anyone saw us leave together, that is the reality of spending time alone with me. I do not ruin good reputations, especially yours; neither of us wants that. I think too highly of you to force you into a position that your reputation would never recover from. Please go back to the ball and forget this happened. We shall need to be as we were when we are family. I do not prey on innocents.” Tom spoke harshly, but it was mainly at anger against his own foolishness that was making him sound so callous.
“Do I not have a say in what happens to me?” Isabelle asked, embarrassed and annoyed at the dismissive tone Tom was using and her own feelings that the encounter had stirred.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you are exactly the type of woman I have avoided! I do not intend to change my life because of one moment of madness,” Tom snapped, unnecessarily hurtful. His words created more anger within him, he did want Isabelle, he would love to marry her, but he knew he could not risk any affection developing between them. He could not risk being hurt by Isabelle. It would destroy him as his mother had destroyed his father. Her words though, only made him want her more, so he became more hurtful to try and maintain the barrier between them.
Isabelle did not trust herself to speak. She just took one last look at the Earl and turned from him. She entered the room through the window and edged her way around the dancers. She had never felt so rejected in her life and needed to go home, but she knew that James would never agree to leave Sophie so early.
Tom stayed outside for some time. He could not face the crowd just yet. He disliked most balls anyway and one where the promise of time spent with Isabelle would no longer be forthcoming did not bear thinking about. He could not believe he had been so foolish. He had known the danger from the moment he had seen her as he entered the house and had resolved to keep his distance the whole night, but he had seen her standing alone and been drawn to her. When he saw that she was upset, he had wanted to ease her pain more than he had wanted to do anything else in his life. He had acted without thinking which was almost unheard of. He should not have even taken her outside, that alone could have ruined her, but when she had looked at him in the half light, for that moment he had been lost to his feelings.
The feel of her. The feel of her responding to him when he pulled her close. If she had pulled away, he knew it would have brought him to his senses, but she had melted into his arms. When she had looked up at him he had almost forced his lips onto hers, but he had wanted to kiss her slowly, to saviour every second. Her mouth had opened slightly and he had thought he had finally found something he had not thought existed. A wave of what he presumed was happiness had started to wash over him, but then reality had struck and he realised what he was doing.
He could not be responsible for ruining the one person he thought he could love if he let his feelings loose. If he had been inclined to trust a woman enough to marry, she would have been the one he would have chosen. His decision made so young against marriage had won through and he had rejected her. It had almost broken his resolve when she had looked at him in confusion, hurt and embarrassment. He tried to justify his actions by his knowledge of Isabelle’s aversion to marriage. But it was a shallow argument. She had also told him that if she ever met the right person, she would certainly marry, but she could not marry him. He would end by destroying them both and his resolve remained in place. He knew things would be difficult, but he had to return to how he had been with her before. They would be family soon.
While the Earl had remained outside Isabelle found Mary who immediately could see something was wrong. “What is it my dear?” she asked as Isabelle rubbed her forehead.
“I need to go home Mary, I can’t stay here, I have such a headache.” Isabelle looked pale and drawn, the complete opposite of the way she had looked when she entered the room little more than an hour before.
“I will inform James we are going home,” Mary said, immediately practical.
“No! You must stay. There is no point in both our evenings being ruined because of a silly headache,” Isabelle pleaded.
“Nonsense, as if I would leave you to go home alone in this state. Sit here. I shall return shortly.” Mary left the room and although there were other people around Isabelle, she was thankfully left alone until Mary returned.
“Well that is all sorted. James will return home with the Earl and Lady Sophie. He was going to come and see you, but I advised against it. I know you wouldn’t want a fuss.”
Isabelle smiled gratefully at her cousin and let herself be led from the room. They were soon in their carriage and on their way home.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Mary asked gently when the carriage started to move away from the house.
Isabelle shook her head; she did not trust her voice. Each time she thought about the way she felt when she had been rejected by the only man she could ever imagine loving and marrying, any chance of speech disappeared. She could not confide in Mary. She did not want to admit to her foolishness in letting her feelings influence her to the point that she could have ruined her reputation. The Earl had made it clear that he did not want her and she
would have to learn to forget her feelings and think of him as a friend and family member when James’s wedding took place.
The journey home seemed longer than usual and Isabelle was relieved to finally arrive outside her own door. Mary insisted on her going straight upstairs to her room and sent Isabelle’s maid for some hot chocolate. Mary undressed Isabelle’s hair and then helped her into her nightclothes. She had no idea what had happened, but could guess at least part of it. She did not want a maid babbling on when her cousin was feeling the first pangs of a broken heart. She eventually left Isabelle, not knowing if she would sleep or not, but at least feeling she had done all that she could to make sure she was comfortable. If Isabelle wanted to confide, she knew Mary would always be there. Until then Mary could only speculate and wish that events had turned out differently. She had been sure the Earl was the perfect match for her cousin and was sorry to be disappointed in her presumption.
Back at the ball the Earl had returned to the crowd and had looked for Isabelle in vain, he had started to become worried and approached James. “Where is your sister, Crawford? We are promised for the next dance,” he asked trying to keep his tone light.
“Mary’s taken her home, she developed a headache. Strange really, Isabelle is never ill, but Mary said she was sure it was the noise and the heat. I’m hoping to travel back with you, if you have no objections?”
The Earl nodded his assent and left James to Sophie’s company. He was even more concerned about Isabelle than he had been when he sent her back into the ballroom. He had not meant for her to be so upset. That was the last thing he wanted. He cursed his weakness and then cursed even more when he realised how long was left of the night and how little he would enjoy it without Isabelle. He was not to know that his evening would soon become even worse.
He stood as far away from the other revellers as possible while still watching the dancing. His look of pure boredom put off most people who may have been tempted to try and get an introduction to a handsome man. So he was left alone until he saw Mr Ollerton approach him.
“You don’t recognise me do you my Lord?” Mr Ollerton opened the conversation.
“No, I’m afraid I do not,” Tom replied a little stiffly, but not impolite enough to offer insult to his host.
“It was some time ago and I admit to a widening of the girth and the thinning of my hair. I used to be a regular visitor to Kent; in fact I have a small place there still, although it is little more than a hunting lodge. I always thought your home was beautiful in the summer. In the winter it always looked rather bleak,” Mr Ollerton smiled.
Tom was immediately more wary of his host. He did have a recollection of meeting him before. He had thought that when they had met at the theatre. He was reluctant to recall the visitors to his home, but now he tried to remember the names of the men that visited. If Mr Ollerton knew his home well he obviously had spent time there in the past which as he was not a close family friend could only mean one thing.
“I am sorry I have no recollection of us being introduced. Did you visit when I was at school perhaps?” A gnawing sensation had started in the pit of his stomach that he was trying to get under control as the conversation continued.
“Yes, most of the time I visited I believe you were at school. Your mother preferred her parties to occur when you were away from home; some desire to want you to think highly of her.”
“Does this conversation have a point, Sir? I do not like the tone you are using with regards to my mother,” Tom snapped, his eyes flashing with anger and his face darkening with unconcealed menace.
Mr Ollerton laughed. “Yes it has a point. I wanted to express my admiration at your courage when you burst in on us in your mother’s dressing room all those years ago. Ah, I see you remember now. I look different do I not? Yes, time and high living have not been kind to me. Those were such good days. I must have only been about ten years older than you, but thanks to your mother every bit a man. I could not help be impressed though by the young boy who mistakenly wanted to protect his mother. In reality it was some of us young men who needed protecting. What an appetite, what a woman!”
Mr Ollerton walked away chuckling to himself. He had achieved what anger and jealousy had made him long for. As soon as Isabelle had made her feelings clear he had wanted to hurt the Earl, whom she obviously held in affection, no matter what she had said during their dance. He may be desperate, but he was not blind. In normal circumstances he would not have reminded the Earl of their meeting, but he had spent so much time courting Isabelle only to have her refuse him again and he blamed the appearance of the Earl for his failure.
He needed a fortune and now he realised the investment had been wasted trying to secure Isabelle’s hand. His frustration had made him want to lash out and the Earl had been an easy target thanks to his mother. He returned to entertaining his other guests assessing if there was any who could provide him with the funds he needed, although none were as pleasant to the eye as Isabelle had been.
The Earl had stayed fixed to his position while Mr Ollerton had walked away. Only the fact that the man was the host prevented the Earl from killing him on the spot. Was the torture caused by his mother’s behaviour ever going to leave him? He remembered the meeting now; it haunted his dreams still and caused him to mistrust every woman he met. True, he had not recognised Ollerton, although he cursed himself for not remembering the name. Years had passed though and the man was no longer the young beau he had burst in on. In any event, his eyes had been focused mainly on his mother, trying to understand what was plainly on show before his eyes, that his mother was at best encouraging the encounter and at worst the instigator, something that his father had hinted at later. Ollerton had confirmed what his father had said and it left him feeling everything as if it had happened yesterday.
He needed to get away, all the hurt and humiliation he had felt surged to the surface, but he could not leave. Sophie would ask too many questions and he was determined that she not know why he wanted to leave, why he would do everything he could to leave Bath as soon as possible. She could never find out about her mother but with Ollerton in the vicinity it made that more likely. He could not trust the man to keep his tongue in his head if he came into more contact with his sister. The thought of leaving suddenly brought Isabelle to mind. It would be hard leaving her, more so now that he knew what sort of a man was vying for her affection. He would have to try and think of a way of warning her, but he paused at this thought. Isabelle was intelligent and seemed to know his thoughts. She would be suspicious of any excuses he gave. Could he trust her with the truth? No, he could not trust any woman. As he leaned against the wall all emotions surging through him, he could not shake off the longing to see the laughing eyes that would no doubt make him feel better.
*
Isabelle awoke and it was a moment or two before she remembered the events of the previous night. The crushing pain that had descended on her then returned and she rolled over and buried her head in her pillow. She allowed herself a few moments of despair before trying to drag herself back to some sort of normality. She had to carry on as if the rejection from the Earl had not happened. This afternoon he would be giving his consent for the wedding to take place and it would inevitably lead to celebrations and them all spending even more time together. She had to be able to face him as she would normally. She shook herself and stepped out of bed. It was time to be strong and she was determined to appear as normal. She quickly dressed and went downstairs to join Mary for breakfast.
“Hello my dear. I didn’t expect to see you so early. How are you feeling? Has your headache eased?” Mary asked, pouring tea for Isabelle as she sat down, noticing that her cousin still looked a little pale.
“I’m fine thank you,” Isabelle replied with a wan smile. “My headache has eased, but I think I will have a quiet day today to prevent its return.”
“That is probably wise,” Mary said gently. She was even more convinced that something had happened
between the Earl and Isabelle if her cousin wanted to have a quiet day. To have such a day on a Sunday in Bath meant missing church and the weekly promenade along the Royal Crescent. Only someone who was avoiding being seen would miss those weekly events.
They breakfasted together and Mary left for church. Mary knew too well that to try and question her cousin would be futile. Isabelle would tell her in her own time what had happened. Isabelle sat quietly in the drawing room when left alone, trying to read, but never moving beyond the first paragraph. Her mind was filled with the image of the Earl bending down to kiss her and the feel of his lips on hers before he pulled away. Her thoughts were eventually interrupted when she was joined by James who looked tired but happy.
“Izzy, how are you?”
“I’m well thank you. Did you enjoy the rest of the ball?” She knew it would not be difficult to divert James from talking about what had happened with her.
“I did and we even flouted convention and danced three times! Are you shocked? The gossips will definitely have something to talk about this morning, but Tom told me he was going to speak to Sophie after they had arrived home and they will visit this afternoon for the formalities. He was in a foul mood last night though, said it was nothing to do with us, but he was desperate to get away. I can’t understand why he doesn’t like balls.”
Isabelle had flushed when her brother had mentioned Tom, but James was too distracted by his impending engagement to notice any change in his sister. He left her to go and eat his breakfast while Isabelle pondered whether she was happy that Tom had not enjoyed himself or if it upset her to know he had not had a good time.
Mary returned and mentioned that she had seen the Earl at church, but Sophie had not been with him. They had not had chance to chat at the end of the service as Mary had been accosted by Mrs Arnold and had struggled to get away. She warned Isabelle that she expected Mrs Arnold to visit on Monday. With her cousin’s still pale face, Mary was concerned that a visit by Mrs Arnold may overset her.
The Complicated Earl Page 9