by Sara MacLean
For some reason, the fear of discovery was nothing compared to the pain of his betrayal—the keen awareness that everything she had let herself believe might come next…
Would never come.
There was a soft knock at the door that stayed the tears from welling again.
She had ignored several earlier attempts to gain access to the room, but she could not bear the thought of being alone any longer.
“Enter.”
The door opened slowly, and Isabel was surprised to see Georgiana, her riot of blond curls glowing in the candlelight from the hallway beyond. It took the girl a moment to spot Isabel in the corner of the room.
She entered tentatively, stopping several feet from Isabel, considering her surroundings for long moments before she spoke, hands clasped in front of her. “I am sorry to disturb you …”
Isabel gave a humorless laugh. “If one of us should be apologizing, Georgiana, I assure you it should be me.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened. “Whatever for? ”
“I brought that man down upon you.”
The younger woman leveled Isabel with a frank look. “I assure you, Lady Isabel, you did no such thing.”
“Oh? You think he would have found his way here if I had not invited him to come for a visit? You think he would have discovered you if I had not been so foolish as to trust him? ”
“Yes.”
Isabel looked away.
“You do not know my brother, Isabel. He is the most imperious, commanding person I have ever known, and he has never been denied anything in his life. He is the eleventh Duke of Leighton. Do you know how far back a family tree must stretch to make eleven dukes? Each one more arrogant than the last? “ Georgiana shook her head. “Simon would have moved heaven and earth to find me. I am honestly surprised that we only had to deal with Lord Nicholas and two idiotic kidnappers. I would have expected my brother to force King George to send in his personal guard.” Georgiana placed her hand on Isabel’s arm. “You did not bring Lord Nicholas down upon me. I brought him down upon you. And for that, I apologize.”
The words coursed through Isabel and she sank to the seat under the window where she had been standing for hours. Indicating that Georgiana should join her, Isabel said quietly, “I am sorry that you have had such a brother looming over you.”
Georgiana smiled. “Do not be. I have never doubted Simon’s love for me. He may be arrogant and domineering, but he protects his own.”
“Then why—” Isabel did not understand.
“There is more to my story than a girl who ran away.”
“There always is.”
“I would like to tell you. I think you deserve to know why all this has happened.”
It happened because I trusted a man I should not have trusted.
“I would like to hear it,” Isabel said, silencing the nagging voice.
“I am …” Georgiana paused, looking at the window, where Isabel knew she could see nothing but her own face reflected in the dark glass. “I fell in love. It is not important with whom.”
Isabel did not speak, waiting for the girl to find the courage to go on. “I made a terrible mistake. I believed that he loved me in return.” She stopped, looked down at her hands where they wrung the fabric of her skirts. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper. “But he did not.” She took a deep, stabilizing breath. “I suppose it is for the best … Simon never would have allowed us to marry. I was crushed. He left, without a word. And then—”
She stopped, unable to continue for the weight of her memories. Isabel leaned forward, clasping Georgiana’s hands in her own. “You do not have to tell me.”
“I want to,” Georgiana whispered. “I want someone to hear me say it.”
Isabel remained still, knowing what was to come.
“I discovered that I was with child. I could not tell Simon. I could not disappoint him. Weeks earlier, my maid had told me a story she’d heard of a house in Yorkshire. A place where young women went to start fresh. Run by Lady Isabel.” She smiled, small and uncertain. “And so I came here.”
She looked up, meeting Isabel’s eyes, her gaze wide and innocent … little more than a child herself. “I knew he would come after me. I did not think he would find me so quickly.”
Isabel squeezed the girl’s hands. “I knew he would come after you, as well. It did not change the fact that you are welcome under this roof”—she smiled a small, wry smile—“what little is left of it … with my protection. And the protection of the Earl of Reddich.”
“As much as I admire the earl, Isabel, I do not think he could do much in the face of my brother.”
“Nonsense. It is clear that my brother has a special place in his heart for his governess. I think he would happily do battle for you.”
The girl’s smile grew into a broader grin. “I am very fond of him, you know. And whatever happens, I will always be proud to say I taught the young Earl of Reddich his Latin.”
They shared a smile at the words before Georgiana continued. “There is something else. About Lord Nicholas.”
Isabel sobered, shaking her head. “I shall send him away immediately.”
“I do not think you should.”
Isabel’s mouth fell open. She could not possibly have heard correctly. “I beg your pardon?”
“He is a good man, Isabel. If I had not heard such for years from my brother and his friends—the way they spoke about St. John, as though he were a hero among us … If I had not heard such from ladies who sighed their longing for his return from the Continent, and who sighed their respect for him when his half sister arrived in London and he stood proudly by her side as the rest of the ton laughed at her … I would have known it today, when he could have turned me over to my brother, but he let me return here, with you, instead.”
Isabel’s heart ached at the words, so clearly a description of the man she thought he was. Perhaps he was loyal to his friends, and committed to his sister, and the best of catches for the vapid society ladies who saw only his handsome face and his fat purse. But he had proven today that he was not for her.
She felt tears prick and willed them away. “You are mistaken. It must be another St. John. For this one is a villain who deliberately preyed upon our trust.”
Upon my trust. Upon my feelings.
“I think he was very likely trying to be a good friend to my brother.”
Isabel shook her head. “It does not matter. He did everything he could to get close to me … to find you and reveal your location. I am afraid there is nothing about that man that even comes close to the noble St. John whom you describe.”
And then, as though she had conjured him with her invective, he was there at the entrance to the room, in the doorway Georgiana had left ajar. “I am sorry that you think that.”
Isabel caught her breath at the sight of him, silhouetted, tall and broad and overwhelmingly dark, against the small rectangle of light. His presence brought with it a flood of feeling—betrayal and anger and mistrust, but also sadness and something else that was nearly unbearable.
Longing.
She steeled herself, determined to keep her voice cold despite her roiling emotions. “I feel certain that I must be mistaken. You cannot possibly still be in my home after what you have done.”
She could not see his face, but he stiffened at her words, and suddenly it felt as if there was less air in the room. “I came to speak with you.”
“Well, that shall be something of a problem, I am afraid, as I have no interest in speaking with you.”
He took a long step into the room, the movement obviously born of frustration.
“And now I see that you are committed to insulting me as well as betraying me. You will leave my bedchamber at once.”
He turned his head slightly, focusing all his attention on the other woman in the room. “Lady Georgiana, I would very much like for you to leave us. Lady Isabel and I have things that we must discuss. Alone.”
Geo
rgiana pulled herself up straighter—displaying herself in all the manner of a highborn aristocratic lady. “I cannot do that, my lord.”
“You have my word that I will not do anything to harm her.”
Isabel gave a little humorless laugh. “And your word holds such weight here.”
“I understand that you are angry, Isabel. I would like you to give me a chance to explain.” He turned to Georgiana again. “I assure you. She is safe with me. We are to be married.”
Georgiana’s jaw dropped at the announcement, which sent a flood of anger and frustration through Isabel.
How dare he.
“We are to be no such thing,” she protested.
He looked back to her again, and for a fleeting moment, she wished that she could see his face. Cloaked in shadow, he was more dangerous and unsettling than he had ever been before. Especially when he said, low and dark, “You said you would marry me, Isabel. I expect you to honor your promise.”
“And you said I could trust you, Nicholas. What of that promise?”
A rigid silence fell, neither one willing to be the one to speak after such a gauntlet had been thrown. Finally, Nick gave in, again pleading his case with the younger woman. “Lady Georgiana—I have assured you that I will defend you to your brother, have I not?”
“You have.”
“And I have given you my word—as devalued as it has become”—he paused, casting a long look at Isabel—“that I will not force you to return home.”
“Yes.”
“Please, allow me this.”
Georgiana thought for a long moment, considering first Nick then Isabel. Her decision made, she said, “I shall give you a quarter of an hour, my lord. No more.”
Isabel snapped her head in the direction of the girl. “Traitor!“
“Fifteen minutes, Isabel. Surely you can spare him that. I shall be just outside.”
Isabel scowled as the girl left the room, pulling the door nearly closed behind her, leaving a sliver of light coming into the bedchamber. Isabel moved to the side of her bed and lit a candle, unwilling to remain in darkness with this man, who had so quickly gone from ally to enemy.
She made quick work of lighting candles around the room until they were bathed in golden candlelight, and Isabel regretted her actions.
He had changed into new, clean clothing. He wore black now, an elegant coat and waistcoat that underscored his handsomeness. She noted the perfect knot in his cravat, and was distracted for a fleeting moment by the memory of him with James.
James. Anger flared.
He’d even won over James.
She crossed her arms, warding off the chill of the thought. “I haven’t anything to say to you.”
“Yes. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”
He was straight and still, entirely composed. She had never seen him this way, so unmoving. It was as though he were a different person from the man whom she had come to know over the past few days.
As though he had been lying to her.
Which, of course, he had.
She looked away, unwilling to show him how much his betrayal had smarted.
He saw, nonetheless. With a sigh, he spoke, his words softer, more cajoling than before. “Isabel. Let me explain. It is not how it appears.”
“It appears that you were searching for us from the very beginning.”
He paused. “That is correct, although not for you. Not for any of you but Georgiana.” “Georgiana is one of us!“
“Georgiana is the sister of the Duke of Leighton, Isabel. Did you really think you could hide her away forever? ”
“No! I—” She stopped, uncertain of her words. “I simply did not expect you to come looking for her.”
“I am rarely what people expect.”
“Yes. I’m beginning to see that.” She looked to the ceiling, frustration coursing through her. “It is my fault. I made it all easier by asking you to value the marbles.”
“If it had not been the marbles, it would have been something else that brought me here.”
“Maybe not.”
“Isabel.” The way he said her name captured her attention. “I am very good at what I do.”
“And what is it that you do, Nick? Because it seems to me that what you are very good at is convincing women to tell you their secrets with your charming smile and your pretty lies and seductions and proposals of marriage—that was a particularly impressive way of gaining my trust, by the way—and then you betray them for your own gain.”
“It was not a lie. It was all true.” His whisper was tempting, so lovely and soft, with that hint of honesty that she had found so warm and welcoming. Well, now she knew better.
She closed her eyes. The conversation was growing exhausting. “Please, Nick. Don’t you think you have done enough to us? Enough to me?”
“You do not understand!“
“What is there to understand?” she cried. “How many times did you ask me to trust you? How many times did you tell me I was wrong to doubt you? How often did you offer me your protection? To James? To the girls?”
“And here I am! The offer still stands!“
“Just go away. You have the information you came for. But tell the Duke of Leighton that he had better bring an army when he comes for Georgiana. For if she does not want to leave, I shall protect her with everything I have.”
“And I shall be beside you.”
“Stop it!” His words broke her. “You think you can convince me to forget what has happened? You betrayed us! You betrayed me. The things I told you—” She stopped, then took a deep breath. “You cannot honestly believe that I would place this house, these lives, in your hands after what you’ve done. Not when I know that your allegiance can be sold like cattle to the highest bidder.”
The words fell like lead between them, and she knew immediately that she had gone too far. He could no longer remain still. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close to him, forcing her to look into his eyes. “No. I will suffer your accusations. I will bear the brunt of your anger. But I am through with your assault on my honor.”
She opened her mouth to retort and he pressed on. “No, Isabel. You will listen to me. I came to help the girl. Not to hurt her. Had I known that she was here and safe, I would not have agreed to the mission. But I did not know those things. Instead, I knew that my friend was beside himself with worry. And I did what I could to help him. Yes. I found your little enclave of Amazonians. Yes. I discovered your secrets—not that they were very well hidden. But none of this is Leighton’s business. Leighton’s business is that girl”—he let go of Isabel’s arm to indicate Georgiana beyond the room—“and the child in her belly. You know nothing of who I am or why I am here. I was never going to give you up. I gave you my word that I would protect you. That I would keep your secrets. And so I shall.”
Isabel did not know what to say as he let her go and stalked to the door. As he set his hand to the handle, she found her voice. “How did you know? ”
Only his head turned back to her, and not enough to meet her eyes. His tone was clipped. “How did I know what? ”
“How did you know that Georgiana is increasing? ”
There was impatience in his tone when he replied. “I have said before, Isabel. I am very good at what I do.”
The words rankled. “As am I!“
“Yes. You are very good at hiding.”
“I am very good at hiding them,” she corrected.
He did turn back then, his lips twisted in a smile that she did not like. “You do it for them.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think so.”
She blinked. “Of course I do.”
“No. I don’t think you do it for them at all, Isabel. I think you do it to keep yourself in hiding. To keep yourself from having to face the world beyond your little kingdom. And what might come with it.”
She froze at the words.
They weren’t true.
They were
n’t.
He waited for a long moment, as though expecting her to reply, before adding, “I will be gone in the morning. I find I am tiring of Yorkshire.”
And, with that last parting shot, he left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
Once he was gone, Isabel crawled onto her bed, exhausted from the verbal sparring and confused by the feelings coursing through her. He had seemed so honest—so true—so hurt.
But what of her?
How lovely had it been when they were rushing off to rescue Georgiana to have this strong, committed man by her side? How much had she adored the feeling of having a partner? Of being able to finally, after all these years, share her burden with another person? What of the comfort she had felt then, for the first time in so very long?
And what of the emptiness that came when he’d snatched it from her?
Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was afraid.
She rolled onto one side, refusing to allow the thought quarter.
She must remain angry.
Because she did not think she could face the darkness if she allowed herself to think on the sadness that she could so easily summon.
Nick could not sleep, and so he headed for the stables, forcing himself into some kind of perverse penance for his betrayal of Isabel. He paced the floor, keeping the horses awake as he replayed the past days in his mind, thinking of all the ways he could have told Isabel the truth. Of all the times he could have confessed his part in this bizarre play.
But he hadn’t—and, instead, he’d lost her.
And, all of a sudden, that mattered more than anything else.
The irony of the situation was not lost on him. He had agreed to Leighton’s ridiculous mission because he had been so desperate to leave London and the silly magazine article behind. He’d been avoiding the mincing females who were immediately drawn to him for all the wrong reasons. He’d been eager to escape them and the drama that came with them.