“Yes, not wanting to wish your happy time away, I can’t wait until Friday!” Isabelle smiled slightly. This was going to be a long two days. Seeing him again had brought to the fore the feelings she had desperately tried to overcome.
Guests arrived throughout the afternoon, carriages seeming to arrive in an endless stream. Each time the sound of the wheels coming to a halt on the gravel driveway signalled the start of a flurry of activity by the servants and the family. Isabelle took her part in greeting and ensuring everyone was refreshed and rested after their journey. She managed to avoid Tom easily and was beginning to relax when she almost bumped into him at the top of the staircase. She moved back to let him past turning her face slightly away from him.
“How very well-mannered of you,” Tom sneered as he walked past her. “A pity you weren’t so obliging as to wait until our return to the inn, but you were always one to do exactly as you liked no-matter what the expected way was.”
Isabelle angered immediately. “I thought my note explained my reasons. I wouldn’t have expected a man like you to understand why I needed to leave, but it is history now, so there is little point in going over it again.” She walked away before Tom could say anything else, there was nothing to be gained in arguing over something that had happened weeks ago and still stirred too many painful feelings. She sought refuge in the library until she had calmed down. She had too many emotions running through her to be able to face anyone immediately, but she knew she had to be strong.
Tom had managed to find himself a quiet room to calm down in. Yet again he was furious with himself. He had promised that he would rise above the situation and although not be friendly, he had not expected to act like a spoiled eight year old at the first opportunity he had of speaking with Isabelle. He knew that she could still move him, one look at her in the hallway had proved that, but he could not understand why the sight of her made him so angry. He refused to acknowledge that the anger could be caused by feelings of regret. He was already regretting his decision to attend the wedding, but it was too late to back out now without needing to explain to James the reason for his sudden departure.
During the evening meal Isabelle was seated near Mr Roberts and Mrs Sugden, Mary’s old friend in Bath. Tom was sat towards the top of the table and although they had a clear view of each other, there was thankfully no opportunity to speak. Mrs Sugden knew the gentleman on her other side, so spent a lot of the evening speaking to him, which Isabelle was thankful for. She wanted to speak to a friendly person during the meal and Mr Roberts was the perfect candidate.
He noticed her slightly more tense state and commented on it. “Are you well Miss Crawford, you do not seem to be enjoying the festivities?”
Isabelle smiled, “Yes I am perfectly well, just not fully comfortable with my role over the next few days.”
“I suppose it is always harder for those surrounding the bride and groom. My role is so small it doesn’t have any impact.”
Isabelle could not help laughing at his comment. “Your role may be small, but most would argue that you are the most important person at the wedding!”
Mr Roberts returned her laugh, “Well I shall admit to pandering to my feelings of self-importance in considering I may be as important as the bride and groom, but again I am trusting you with one of my secrets.”
“I’m honoured,” Isabelle smiled.
“No, it is my pleasure and if I am not being too forward may I say that it has been a delight to have your company these last few weeks. I never expected to be welcomed into the area as I have since moving here, and especially since your arrival in Hampshire I have been very happy to be considered one of your friends.”
Isabelle flushed slightly, but returned his smile. “Your compliments are undeserved, but you have been a welcome addition to the household too.”
The party split after the meal; the ladies leaving the room to the men who appreciative of the port and cigars, reclined further into their seats. Tom approached James when the drinks had been distributed and small groups had developed, some moving away from the table.
“I am glad you have found happiness Crawford.”
James looked a little surprised, but pleased. “Thank you. I was sorry about the way things turned out with Sophie, but looking back now I think it was probably for the best. I hope she is as happy as I am.”
“She is. She is settling into married life well and I have to admit that Arnold is proving a better family member than I had expected. Thankfully he does not take after his mother!”
James laughed. “I don’t envy you that connection!”
Tom just growled in response, but then changed the subject. “Who’s the clergyman over there?”
“Roberts, he’s new to the area, but proving a very good sort. He’s settling right in and although I had not thought anything of the kind when he first came to the area. Since Isabelle has been here I have a feeling he will be becoming a closer family member before too long,” James said with a satisfied smile.
“Really?” Tom could only grind the word out. He felt like he had been kicked in the stomach.
“Yes, they have been spending a lot of time together and she seems to like him. I know he admires her; he had a word with me last week, but has sworn me to secrecy for now. He does not want to rush Isabelle into anything, particularly since everything is changing because of my marriage. He’s a sensible fellow, she could do a lot worse.”
Tom suddenly wished himself a thousand miles away from this house and James’s smug smile. He had doubted his sanity about making the trip and now he knew he should never have come. He would have preferred not to have to sit through two days of someone else making love to Isabelle in a way that he could not, or would not let himself do.
Isabelle was oblivious to the strong feelings she had stirred in the two men and was grateful that the evening had ended without any interaction between herself and the Earl. If her luck held for the next two days, she would never need to see him again and although in some way it hurt to think that, it was less painful than seeing him and not sharing what they had in the past.
The day before the wedding dawned and Isabelle helped Mary as much as she could, especially as her normally composed cousin was becoming jittery. They walked down to the church to arrange the flowers on the altar. “Has Frank spoken to you about returning home with him when they leave?” Mary asked as they organised the displays. Mary had chosen simple flowers that could be sourced locally.
“Yes, and I’ve said thank you, but no thank you,” Isabelle said firmly, her lips pressing into their usual thin line when her living arrangements were mentioned.
“Will you stay with us for a while? Not because I don’t think you will ever go back to Bath, but I don’t want you to rush into accepting just anyone as a companion,” Mary said quickly, needing to explain her reasoning before Isabelle became annoyed at her interference.
Isabelle smiled slightly, “I don’t really have much choice, but that sounds ungrateful and I don’t mean to be. I will stay for a little while thank you. You will be hard to replace, so I agree I shall take my time before deciding on whom to invite to live in Bath with me.”
“You flatter me. Mr Roberts seems to like your company,” Mary said trying to look innocent, until she caught Isabelle’s look and then burst out laughing. “He does! I am always going to think highly of anyone who admires you Isabelle, so you can stop glaring at me!”
Isabelle continued to glare, “Don’t think that one wedding will lead to another dear Mary. Keep your matchmaking to yourself.”
“Do you not like him even a little bit?”
“Yes, of course I like him; he has been a welcome relief over the past few weeks. From Frank I mean, not you,” Isabelle said quickly with a smile. “Do I want our friendship to develop further? I don’t know. I am doubting my own judgement as it has been flawed in the past, but I shall not rush into anything. I can speak to a man without wanting to marry him you know.”
“Leave me in peace!” Isabelle pleaded.
Isabelle found herself unavoidably in the same company as Tom later that day. There had been a group who had decided to go for a brisk walk around the grounds and Isabelle and Tom had independently joined them. Isabelle had decided that avoiding him was an option, but ignoring him was rude, so when she found herself next to him, she broke the silence.
“How is Mrs Arnold, your Lordship, I hope she is well?”
“She is,” came the clipped reply.
It is harder to be polite in practice than I first thought, Isabelle mused, but turned to him with a smile. “Do they intend to live in Kent?”
“No, they are to settle in London. Sophie has a notion of helping the Misses Arnold to find husbands.” He did not want this conversation with her, but to walk away would be bad mannered.
“She did have a protective streak towards the Arnolds,” Isabelle smiled. “How is Mr Arnold?”
“He is well, more sensible than I had anticipated.”
“He does as you say then?” Isabelle asked innocently enough, but Tom had the distinct impression she was laughing at him.
“He takes my advice on matters of business, yes,” he snapped.
“I’m sure he is a delight to you,” she said quietly, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.
She was teasing him and he could not respond in kind, it angered him that she was not feeling as wretched as he was. “Yes, I am delighted when people respond to good advice given with their best interest at heart,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
They both knew he was referring to Isabelle leaving again. “Perhaps you haven’t always understood the feelings of those you so easily give out advice too. Sometimes your advice could be wrong,” Isabelle challenged.
“And sometimes actions can be wrong,” came the snapped reply. Isabelle did not know if he meant her running away or them kissing and she was not about ask him to clarify so that she could find out. She did not want to be hurt further by his words.
“As usual I am confused by your response, you say one thing but could quite easily mean another, and then again I should be used to that now. I shall leave you in peace; it is obvious you do not relish my company. I see my friend Mr Roberts has joined the group. I find I understand his conversation without any effort. Good day.” Isabelle walked away with her head high, the pounding of her heart and the urge to scream and cry well hidden underneath her practised formality.
Tom was left watching her. He felt close to exploding and needed to get away from the group. He carried straight on when the rest of the group turned a corner; he had not joined in any conversation, so no-one apart from Isabelle noticed he had left the party. He walked quickly through the gardens until he reached the woodland and then he started to run. He needed to let off some energy and he could think of no other outlet at that moment. What he wanted to do was find himself in the boxing ring with a suitable opponent, preferably Mr Roberts and then he would have enjoyed expelling his pent up energy, but for now running would have to suffice.
He did not care if he was seen and took no joy in the gardens that he ran through, his motivation was to release some of what he was feeling. Eventually he stopped and leaned on a tree to catch his breath. She infuriated him beyond belief, she made him angry like no other person had ever done, but all he could think of was kissing her. He could not get the thought out of his mind and no-one would ever know just how much willpower it took him to control his feelings and stop himself acting in a way that would send the whole party into shock.
He knew he should be able to get over her, she was a maddening woman at the best of times, but he had never met anyone else like her in his life. When he had returned to Kent he had thrown himself into his social circle like he had never done before. He had been determined to forget her, to meet someone new, but every woman he met he compared with her and not one matched her in his eyes. Yes, some may be more beautiful, some may be more talented, but none had the whole package that she had. Beauty, charm, intelligence and wit. She was the only one of his acquaintance that could battle verbally with him and make him laugh with a single comment, or a look and he missed that more than he cared to admit.
Their exchange during the walk had proved to him how much he missed her. When she started to banter with him slightly, oh it had not been as comfortable as it had once been, but she had tried. It was only through sheer anger at her obvious dismissal of what they had shared that had made him able to get through the exchange without falling back into the way they had been. It would have been so easy, but instead he had given in to his irrational anger and spoiled the little time he had with her.
He could marry her. If he had sought counsel from one of his friends that is what they would have said, but he would not. He did not know how to overcome the feelings that had developed in him since he was fifteen. To marry her was to tempt finding her as imperfect as his mother had been and he could not cope with a revelation like that. He was scared of the emotion she stirred and the feeling made him desperate to escape.
He started to walk back to the house. He needed to leave. It would soon be over and he could return to Kent and carry on his life without the constant ache in the pit of his stomach as happened when Isabelle was around. One thing that niggled at the back of his mind was that she may marry the clergyman. He was not worthy of a woman like her and she would not, could not be happy with a man like that. He would not challenge her the way she enjoyed. She would be trapped in a life that would stifle her; the thought of that happening to her gave him physical pain.
He was disgusted to see her sitting next to the clergyman again at the evening meal. It was obvious the family were promoting the match and it looked like Isabelle was welcoming his attentions, damn her! Did she not see what was happening? He was left alone at the dinner table to his thoughts. He was a very quiet guest. By the first evening everyone had realised he was not the usual amenable addition to such a gathering and most gave him a wide berth. The evening was long and tedious and he would never be as glad to attend a wedding and make his escape as soon as possible afterwards.
*
Isabelle opened her eyes slowly on the morning of the wedding. Her life was going to change forever after this day, as much as if she was the bride herself. She was filled with apprehension, but was determined to enjoy the day for the sake of Mary and James. They were the two people she loved most in the world, apart from one other, but she refused to dwell on him or his unreasonable moods since he had entered her family home. Today was all about James and Mary. She rose to prepare for the festivities, she was going to try and make this a perfect day for them both.
The church was filled with guests when Mary and Isabelle arrived. Mary looked elegant in the cream silk she wore. A simple bonnet adorned with small flowers hid a blushing face when she looked down. She was not used to being the centre of attention and found the experience overwhelming. Isabelle was a bridesmaid for Mary and had dressed in a pale blue silk gown, edged in cream to match Mary’s dress. The modesty had worked to show off the assets of both ladies to success. They both held small bouquets of cream flowers to finish off their outfits.
The music started and the walk down the aisle began. James looked handsome as he stood before Mr Roberts. His face lit up when he turned and saw Mary. Isabelle felt a warm glow inside for the two people that were so important to her. Mr Roberts gave her a smile when she reached the altar with Mary and Isabelle returned the smile as their eyes met.
Tom saw the exchange between Mr Roberts and Isabelle, and his stomach turned. He had once had that p
leasure of having Isabelle seek out his eyes when something amused her, but she no longer turned to him and it hurt. His eyes never left Isabelle throughout the service and for the first time the reality of what he had rejected hit him. She was beautiful and he could not help smile when he could read her expression as the sermon was given. She never could hide her thoughts and his mouth twitched in amusement as he thought that she would never be as pious and as dutiful a wife as the sermon demanded. It brought it home to him even more that she would not be suited to the life of being married to a clergyman. He could not believe she was seriously considering marrying such a man who would restrict her personality when she had rejected other, more suitable men.
The group returned to the house and the festivities began. Food and wine flowed freely and Tom indulged more than he usually did in company. He had finally realised that he had lost Isabelle. It was obvious she welcomed the clergyman’s advances; whenever they could they would stand or sit together talking, often to the exclusion of the rest of the party, which clearly would send out a message that they were betrothed, even if it was not yet publicly announced. His acknowledgement of his loss of Isabelle made him realise that there was nothing he wanted more in life than to claim her as his, whatever the consequences. The problem was she would refuse any proposal he made. He had hurt her more than she deserved and he knew that she did not even owe civility to him, let alone agreeing to give him a time to make her believe that he loved her and was worthy of another chance.
He drank more and more as the time progressed, constantly watching Isabelle and quietly driving himself insane, beyond all rational thought. He was eventually overcome by the need for some fresh air because of his overindulgence and he left the room. He stood outside for a while the air clearing his mind, but not easing his inner turmoil by settling his feelings, this was torture and he needed to get away. He returned inside. He had decided that he was going to take his leave of James immediately whether it was appropriate or not, there was no point prolonging the torment, he had come to put his feelings in order and instead he was in a greater turmoil than if he had stayed away. There was no reason to stay any longer.
The Complicated Earl Page 16