Virtue and Vice

by Kimberly Brody

  “Your time is up Isabelle. What’s your decision?”

  Chapter 13

  Izzy’s gut churned with nausea.

  How had everything spun so completely out of control? Izzy stared in stupefied silence at the man before her, panic rising steadily in her chest that made breathing difficult.

  What should I do?

  How could he still want to marry when he was so very angry? And rightly so, if she were honest with herself, especially after he’d overheard the confession to her father, though surely he would recognize the desperate lie when he calmed. She was furious with him, too, and justified in her anger over his deception, but she was not so much of a hypocrite she didn’t recognize his right to be furious as well.

  But where had the tenderness Julian displayed so often gone? If he would just show her the smallest hint of it now, she’d take his hand and willingly do as he and her father wished. In light of Papa’s threat, she had no other choice. She was terrified of losing Papa’s love, losing her family. Perhaps if she went through with the wedding Papa would find it in his heart to forgive her.

  And yet, despite her intimate knowledge of his body, the man before her was a complete stranger. He was Julian, yet he wasn’t. This man possessed the bearing of nobility. From his aquiline nose down to his expensive cavalier boots, he reeked of self-confidence and authority. And she liked it not one bit.

  Anger at his deception overrode common sense. “I’ll see you in He-”

  “Don’t say it, Isabelle. You’re mere seconds away from becoming a homeless street urchin with nothing to her name. Though I think it’s safe to say you’ll make one hell of a courtesan should that come to pass.”

  His words were like tiny daggers stabbing at her heart.

  It hurt that he thought so lowly of her and it hurt that Papa had cast her out as he had.

  Will Papa truly stand by his words if I don’t go through with this madness?

  She wasn’t sure. One of her brothers would take her in, surely they’d never leave her homeless, would they? But if she didn’t marry the Viscount, her brothers would lose so much. Perhaps they’d be too angry to want to help her.

  But dear God! To go forth with a marriage this way seemed a recipe for disaster. Could she overcome her anger over his deception? Would he overcome his fury over hers?

  She’d have to find out, for there was no other choice. Paul was lost to her now, whether she married the viscount or not. Backing out of marriage on her wedding day and the shame of being disowned by her family would destroy her reputation. No one would have her now. She’d made this bed for herself, now it was time to lie in it. She only hoped that later tonight, after the vows were exchanged, she and Julian—Ramsay—could have an open, honest discussion, and smooth away all the misunderstandings between them. She had only make it through the day and then everything would be all right. Bridegrooms had to treat their new brides with tenderness and patience on their first night as husband and wife. She would make everything right tonight. She’d confess her lie, explain why she misled her father, and perhaps they might even laugh about it. And then he’d hold her in his arms like he had in the crofter’s cottage and make her feel safe and cherished. Though she’d die before admitting it to anyone else at this precise moment, nothing about this marriage seemed so terrible on second thought. Once he knew the truth they would begin anew.

  She’d grieve in private for the life she wouldn’t have with Paul.

  Swallowing her fear, she raised her eyes to Ramsay’s and nodded. Perhaps once they wed he’d soften and cease his mockery.

  “Wise choice, Isabelle. Shall we find your father and share our joyous tidings?”

  She bit her lip, praying she hadn’t just made the worst mistake of her life.

  ***

  It all happened so fast it couldn’t possibly be real! But the unfamiliar weight of the wedding band on Izzy’s ring finger brought everything into sharp focus. I’m married!

  The realization brought no surge of exhilaration, dismay, or even fear. There was only a kind of numb acceptance. How peculiar.

  When she and Ram left the study together, Papa had accepted the announcement of their impending nuptials with some surprise and a great amount of relief. It hurt her terribly that he was so eager to give her away. Yet despite her capitulation to his wishes, he’d not spared her a single tender glance and she’d ached at his neglect. She yearned for just one smile from him, one kindly spoken word- anything that would set her mind at ease that she hadn’t lost his love forever. More than anything, she’d wished to confess her deceit to him before the nuptials, but whenever she drew near his face became closed and forbidding.

  When the time came for the wedding to begin, Izzy had discovered Papa no longer wanted the honor of giving her to Ram. She’d never, ever imagined her wedding without Papa, but he no longer wanted her. And he couldn’t even be bothered to be the one to hand her off to the next man who didn’t truly want her. Anguish had snatched her breath, her bottom lip trembled, and it had taken every ounce of willpower she possessed to hold back desperate tears before an assembly of wedding guests.

  It had fallen to Tyrone, her eldest brother, to place her hand in Ram’s in their father’s stead. Surely it was the least auspicious beginning to any wedding, ever, for her father was ashamed of her and her groom seemed to despise her. Izzy was almost in tears before the ceremony even started.

  As her brother gave her to her future husband, she’d searched Ramsay’s eyes, seeking any sign of tenderness. Instead, she’d seen only steely resolve when he took her arm and turned to the vicar.

  Mrs. Smith had attended wearing a smug smile as if she’d played a hand in the day’s events. If only the vicar’s wife knew all that occurred since that day in the study when she’d wielded the switch, the woman would probably keel over in a dead faint.

  Izzy had repeated the words required of her, barely aware of what she’d said, only noting the mocking look in Ram’s eyes as she vowed to be faithful unto him.

  Then he’d slipped a ring onto her finger and followed it with a chaste kiss.

  Now they were man and wife, and it was time to face her third ordeal of the day.

  They greeted the guests as a newly married couple, accepting the congratulations and best wishes from the small gathering. In a blur, Izzy met Ram’s father, the Earl, and Juliana, Ram’s young sister. Izzy barely had time to form an opinion of the pretty girl before her mother and then Belinda descended upon her. Her cousin threw her arms around Izzy’s neck, hugging her close.

  “Congratulations, Izzy. You’re the most beautiful bride ever.”

  Izzy’s composure slipped and she struggled not to burst into tears. Hugging Belinda back, Izzy held onto her as though her cousin was her only security in the world. As much as she wanted to, Izzy couldn’t unburden herself to her cousin, for Belinda would only fret. There was no reason to upset her when Izzy could very well worry enough for the both of them.

  “Come.” Ramsay took her arm in a tight grasp. “’Tis time to go to the house for the festive meal”.

  She couldn’t bear his cutting sarcasm.

  Surely, she was only in the grip of a terrible nightmare, one she couldn’t awaken from no matter how she tried, but a nightmare nonetheless and therefore destined to end? After all, they couldn’t go on like this forever.

  And yet, she wasn’t buoyed by hope. She was married to a man whom, by all indication, despised her, and now they were to celebrate their sham of a marriage before a roomful of people, pretending happiness at their union.

  Ramsay set a fast pace as they walked to the house. Trying her best to keep up, she stumbled, but he merely tightened his hold and dragged her along behind him, like a recalcitrant child about to receive a chastisement. She bit back a plea for mercy, knowing he had none to spare. Her spirits sank even lower, when she didn’t believe it possible to feel worse than she already did. The fact that she was now his wife hadn’t changed a thing. By the time they reach
ed the manor, Izzy was panting from exertion.

  Her mother had overseen the preparation of an intimate reception, with delicious food and other luxuries provided to all, but everything Izzy put in her mouth tasted like sawdust and so she finally gave up trying to eat. Worry over how she would break through Ramsay’s anger long enough to explain the truth when they retired to Chesworth House gnawed at her. His father, the Earl, was leaving for London with Juliana in order to give Ram and Izzy a few weeks of privacy. The idea of being alone with her new husband in a strange house almost sent her into hysterics.

  When the meal finished, Ramsay left his place at the table without a word, apparently not willing to even pay lip service to the usual wedding traditions. When Izzy next caught sight of him he stood across the room talking with Tyrone. Izzy watched as they conversed with ease, saw Ramsay smile at something her brother said, and experienced a pang of true dismay. If only he’d smile at her like that just once, she would know some relief, at least. As it was, he’d not bothered to spare a single look in her direction. She was a bride abandoned by her groom at her own wedding. She stared straight ahead, pretending not to notice, fighting an overwhelming urge to flee.

  Suddenly aware of a presence, Izzy turned to find Belinda hovering nearby, her eyes searching.

  “Are you well, Izzy?”

  Izzy forced a smile. “I’m fine,” she lied.

  Her cousin sighed with relief and took the seat vacated by Ramsay earlier. “So you weren’t furious when you discovered that Julian is really your viscount?”

  Izzy gasped. Surely she hadn’t heard Belinda correctly! “You knew?”

  Belinda’s eyes widened in alarm and she stuttered, “I-I assumed he told you when he revealed the truth to you.”

  Belinda’s betrayal, and it was a betrayal, on top of everything else Izzy had suffered that day nearly broke her. Her hands began to shake, and then her arms, until she trembled from head to toe. “You knew who he was all this time and you didn’t tell me?” Izzy heard the rising pitch of her own voice and clamped her mouth shut, afraid she would open it, and nothing but a scream would emerge. This all could have so easily been avoided if only Belinda had told her the truth! “You deliberately let me make a fool of myself?”

  “I-I promised him I wouldn’t disclose his identity to you.”

  Izzy narrowed her eyes. “And a promise to him was worth more than a lifetime of friendship?”

  “I truly thought it for the best. You seemed to like Julian so well. I couldn’t help but feel that when you discovered the truth you’d be well pleased, regardless of your feelings for Paul.”

  Izzy tried to gain hold of her spiraling anger, but it was too much on top of the day’s other revelations. “Tell me, Belinda, how long have you wanted Paul for yourself? Or is it only that you couldn’t stand it that two men wanted to marry me, when you have no prospects of your own? For I can see no other reason why you betrayed me and sabotaged my only chance at happiness!”

  Belinda’s face paled and her eyes filled with tears. “You think I did this on purpose to hurt you? Do you truly believe that?” she cried.

  Izzy stared back in stony silence.

  “Everything I’ve ever done has been for you, Izzy. Everything. My entire life I’ve put your needs ahead of my own so you might be happy. And you truly think me capable of such vile deception for my own selfish purposes? Do you?”

  When Izzy didn’t answer, Belinda stood. “You could be happy with Ramsay if you tried. Do you know how lucky you are that you desired one another ere either of you knew you were even betrothed? If you can’t find happiness under those circumstances you’ll never find happiness, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

  Belinda pushed her chair violently from the table. “From now on I’m putting my own needs first. It’s now your husband’s responsibility to make sacrifices for your happiness, not mine. I only hope you show him more gratitude than you’ve shown me.”

  Izzy turned away so Belinda wouldn’t see her tears. She wanted to take back her words, for they were cruel and untrue, but if she tried to speak she’d lose her composure completely. To the two people she loved most, Papa and Belinda, she’d been an unwanted burden and never knew it. And now, for reasons she didn’t understand, she’d become Ramsay’s unwanted burden. Only Izzy held no delusions her husband would ever worry unduly about her happiness, let alone sacrifice for it.

  She flinched when she heard the rustle of Belinda’s skirts as she stalked away.

  Deep seated loneliness and grief pierced her. Her father was ashamed of her, Belinda had betrayed her, and her husband despised her.

  And somehow, though her intention was never to hurt anyone, she’d brought it all on herself. That simple truth made it all the harder to bear. She had no right to self-pity.

  Could there be anything worse than this?

  ***

  Worse arrived not long after Izzy’s argument with Belinda, when Ramsay finally returned to her side, only to take her arm in a ruthless grip, signaling the end of one ordeal and the beginning of another. To the casual observer it might have seemed only the possessive touch of a newly married man with his wife, but Izzy could feel the anger bubbling barely below the surface in the bite of his fingers into her skin. She tried to pull away but he hissed through clenched teeth low enough so only she could hear, “be still” in an authoritative voice. Then, he turned to the few guests who still milled about and smiled.

  “I think the time has come for us to make our way to Chesworth House. My bride has had a long day and it grows late. Thank you for sharing this day with us. We must leave, but please, I urge you to remain and enjoy yourselves.”

  No one protested, and of course, why would they? All they saw was a groom anxious to be alone with his bride. Ramsay hauled her from the hall and toward the front door, where a carriage waited to take them to his nearby home. He didn’t even offer her a chance to bid her family farewell. Izzy resisted an urge to throw a panicked glance toward Belinda.

  Only her mother rushed to the door to see them off, giving Izzy a gentle hug and a stroke to her cheek. “Be well, my love.”

  Izzy forced a smile. Then the door closed behind them and her new husband was handing her into the waiting carriage, making no effort to hide his impatience.

  As the vehicle bore them through the darkness, down the long driveway, away from the familiarity of her home and loved ones, Izzy gathered her courage to challenge Ramsay and then turned to him, making sure to catch his gaze with her own. There were but minutes until the carriage reached Chesworth house, Izzy’s new home. If they were to salvage anything from this day and find peace with one another, it must be now, before they arrived at Ramsay’s home where he’d have all the advantage and she’d resent him for it. Surely he wanted to make this marriage work, didn’t he?

  The object of her musings faced her in stony silence, his grey eyes smoldering in the dim light cast by the sole lantern in the carriage. As the wheels went over a rut the lantern swung gently, casting Ram’s shadow upon the vehicles door beside him. It looked huge and intimidating, even a little menacing, much like the man who’d cast the shade.

  “M-may we talk, my lord?”

  He inclined his head in the age-old symbol of permission.

  “As it is our wedding day I thought perhaps you might indulge me”-

  His eyes widened in disbelief and a harsh laugh exploded from his lips. “I will never be indulgent with you, Isabelle. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can ever manipulate me the way you’ve manipulated everyone else in your life. I’m not a fool and your life will be far more tolerable if you accept that truth now.”

  Izzy recoiled at the vehemence in his voice. The beat of her heart increased to a staccato pace.

  She swallowed, then tried again. “I-I only want you to know the truth ere this marriage begins on the wrong foot.” As if that time hadn’t come and gone hours past! She watched his face for any sign of reaction, but there was non
e. He may as well have worn a mask, for all that his thoughts and feelings were hidden behind a façade of stone.

  “Julian, I’ve never lain with a man,” she blurted. “Until I met you I’d never done more than exchange a few kisses. I swear there was no one, not this past se’nnight, and not before you. I’m a virgin still. I lied to my father because I was desperate to avoid marriage. I thought”- She realized she was wringing her hands in her lap and forced them to relax. “I thought my father would protect me.” Her voice came out as an unintended whisper, as just thinking about how wrong she’d been about Papa hurt so very much.

  A muscle jumped in his cheek. He turned away, staring through the window into the darkness without. She waited for him to acknowledge her confession, but he didn’t speak or even nod his head to indicate he’d heard her words.

  He didn’t say a word at all. The only sound in the carriage was that of the hooves of the horses and the squeaks of the wheels that jostled them upon the road ever faster to Chesworth House.

  Panic engulfed her as the carriage slowed. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to be! Ramsay should have listened to her confession, perhaps even chastised her for lying to Papa, but in the end he was supposed to apologize for the charade he’d played and by doing so extend an olive branch she‘d gladly take. They were supposed to laugh over this misunderstanding, perhaps as they shared a drink before bed. He wasn’t supposed to ignore her confession as if she hadn’t spoken. What kind of marriage could they possibly hope to have if they spent their first night as a wedded couple bitter and angry? She had to find a way to make him understand!

  But the carriage came to a stop without another word spoken by either of them. Through the window, Izzy saw an imposing manor house, her new home, but her despondency was so great she couldn’t bring herself to even be interested, let alone excited. In silence, Ramsay leapt from the carriage and then helped her down from the high perch. If any of the servants were watching, they’d think Ramsay the most polite of bridegrooms. Izzy might have been able to pretend as well but for the tight grasp he once more took on her arm. Surely she’d have marks from his fingers forever embedded on her flesh as a result of this day.