“Idiot,” she chided herself. She sighed and plopped down on the ground to catch her breath and let her feet rest. She thought about James’s recommendation to simply holler if she needed anyone, but she didn’t think anyone would hear her out here. And if they did she would certainly look crazy for yelling. She wasn’t quite desperate yet, though, so she took a moment to enjoy the view and the quiet.
The view was certainly stunning. She had never been in such a rural area before, and the gently rolling hills and bright greens of summer filled her with peace and happiness. She thought that she could live here for the rest of her life and be perfectly happy.
“Beautiful,” a voice behind her said.
She started and looked up. A man was standing behind her. Her breath hitched in her throat. His hair and eyes were dark and he had a sun-kissed bronze to his skin. He was wearing a white shirt that was slightly open at the chest with the sleeves rolled up and black pants. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen and had to tear her gaze away to keep from staring.
“Yes,” she finally said. “It is. I’ve never been in such a place.”
“You are Isoline, Miss Beresford?” he said more than asked in a delicate, lilting accent she couldn’t place. “Her ladyship’s niece.”
“I am,” Isoline said as she stood. “I just arrived last night.”
“I heard,” he said. Isoline saw he was smiling. And not just politely, but a large smile as though he were the happiest man in the world. His smile was infectious and she could not suppress her own. She looked down and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Yes, I suppose everyone has heard by now,” she said.
“Very nearly,” he said with a laugh. “At least everyone on the estate. But I’m sure the word will spread through the village today.”
“You live on the estate?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes, I rent a small cottage over that way.” He pointed in a direction, but Isoline was quite turned around and could not tell if he was pointing north, south, east, or west or somewhere in between, but she nodded as though she understood.
It then dawned on her that she had no idea where she was and was completely alone with a strange man.
“I…I should head back,” she said. “My aunt will send someone to look for me very soon.”
“Of course,” he said. “Don’t let me keep you. I just saw you here and wanted to introduce myself.”
“But you didn’t,” she said.
“Didn’t what?” he asked.
“Introduce yourself,” she said. “You haven’t told me your name.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head in embarrassment. “Forgive me,” he said. “I am Auberon. Auberon Drochia.”
“Drochia?” Isoline asked. “What an interesting name.”
He nodded. “From the old country,” he said. She assumed he meant one of the old countries on the continent, but he didn’t indicate which one. “But we have lived here for many years.”
“Here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “In England or on this estate?”
“Perhaps both,” he said, and they both laughed.
Isoline was feeling easy and comfortable in Auberon’s company, which told her she needed to excuse herself, more firmly this time. She wasn’t lying when she had told her father she had no desire to marry. She didn’t want to ever lead a man into heartache again.
She moved to leave. “I really must be going,” she said. “But it was very nice to meet you.”
“And you, dear Isoline,” he said.
The way her name fell from his lips was like music to her ears. She longed to ask him to walk with her, so talk to him more and stay by his side for as long as possible, but she couldn’t. She shouldn’t. She started to walk down the hill but remembered she didn’t know the way back to the house. She paused and looked both this way and that.
“The manor house is that way,” Auberon said, pointing in one direction.
She blushed and nodded her thanks. “Of course,” she said as though she had known all along.
As she walked down the hill and back toward the house, she was sure she could still feel his eyes on her long after she had left his sight.
Chapter Five
“Isoline…”
That night, the man returned to her dream, and it was as though there had not been months of separation between them. She awoke, grabbed her robe, and stepped onto the wet grass. As she walked through the glen, she let her fingers caress the tips of the grass.
She knew he was there. She could sense him before he even approached. She stood still and let him get closer. She could feel his hand on her shoulder, hovering just beyond her skin. She broke out into gooseflesh and slightly shivered. From the corner of her eye, she could see his breath crystallizing in the night air. He was so close, yet she knew if she dared to try and look at him, he would vanish, and she wanted him to stay here with her.
“Thank you,” she said. “You told me that all would be well, and it has been. I don’t know if you played a part in it or if you just knew what my father and aunt were planning, but I am glad I didn’t return to Cyril or find a governess position. I am happy here.”
She heard him sigh in relief, and she felt his hand lay slightly on her shoulder. She teared up for happiness, but she dared not move for fear it would break the spell. They stood there together for an indeterminable amount of time—Isoline had never been able to decipher if time passed differently in her dreams—until the dream finally faded and she woke back in her own bed. She felt completely rested and at peace.
“I’ve had a note from Tristan,” her aunt announced as they ate luncheon together. At exactly noon, Aunt Bellamira had left her apartments and come downstairs where Isoline had been eagerly awaiting her. After her brisk walk the day before, she had returned filthy and exhausted and had proven to be poor company for her aunt for the afternoon and feel asleep early. Today, she intended to make up for it. She read quietly until Bellamira came downstairs and she was polite and attentive to every word the woman said, which wasn’t much while they ate, the mention of Tristan being the first thing of note she said.
“Oh?” Isoline asked as she sipped her broth, the first course of the meal. “Did he say anything interesting?”
“Not in the least,” Bellamira said as she waved the broth away and a pigeon compote was served along with some vegetables and bread. The food at Thornrush was something that Isoline was going to have to get used to. She was being served a large variety of food she had not eaten before and in such a quantity she was easily stuffed long before the dessert arrived. “Though he rarely does,” she continued.
“Are you not fond of Tristan?” Isoline asked.
“Fond?” Bellamira asked as though it was a ridiculous question. “Well, I suppose he is pleasant enough, but he calls so often I nearly think he lives here. He never sends a note, though. Just drops by unannounced. I rather think the advanced warning was more for your benefit than mine.”
“Mine?” Isoline asked, suddenly alarmed. “Why should he alert me to his visit?”
“He probably assumes you will want to be able to prepare yourself for his visit,” Bellamira said as she picked at her luncheon. “Most ladies go to such extremes in preparing their faces and hair for a gentleman caller.” Isoline noticed that her aunt never ate much of the exquisite food the cook prepared, which probably explained why she was so thin. Isoline tried to imitate her aunt’s peckish nature, but the food was so delicious she didn’t want a single morsel to remain on her plate.
Her face went hot at her aunt’s words. She had hoped that by coming to Thornrush she would be well away from any possible suitors. She hadn’t thought that she would have to start rebuffing advances from the very first man she met, the one who had saved her life! How could she turn him down when he was—by definition—her savior?
“Well, he has seen me at my worst already,” Isoline said, her own appetite suddenly gone. “I sure I looked quite a frig
ht, rain-drenched and travel-worn. I’m surprised I didn’t frighten him off.” She chuckled even though she found the situation anything but funny.
“Is that what you want?” Bellamira asked, signaling for the dishes to be taken away and a dessert of burnt cream brought out.
“Not…exactly…” Isoline said, conflicted. She certainly did not want to be courted by Tristan, but she did not oppose to his company. And out here, amiable friends would be few and far between.
“Why aren’t you married, Isoline?” her aunt asked plainly. Isoline looked at her with her mouth slightly agape. Usually such directness would be considered rude. A topic like that was one usually beat around the bush about. Bellamira sensed Isoline’s shock and continued. “At my age, one doesn’t waste time stepping around topics of conversation. When one foot is in the grave, we must speak quickly before we fall in.”
Isoline couldn’t help but give a small sigh of relief. The rites of social niceties could be so exhausting. She was glad to have someone she could speak to with fewer constraints.
“I don’t know what my father has told you—” she began, but Bellamira cut in.
“He only said that your engagement had come to a sudden sad end and you needed some time away to recover,” she explained. “I thought maybe the poor chap had died or you had discovered he was a terrible rake, but you don’t look like a woman who has suffered some tragedy or heartache to me.”
Isoline shook her head. “No, it was nothing like that. If anything, I was the villain. Cyril loved me, and I broke his heart mercilessly.”
“Why would you do that?” Bellamira asked, listening intently.
“I…I don’t exactly know,” she lied and hoped Bellamira didn’t notice. Even though she was glad to be able to speak frankly with her aunt, she didn’t think her aunt would be accepting if she admitted to ending her engagement over a dream. “I never loved him, but that was not why I ended it. I know marriage is not usually about love. But at the engagement party, I was gripped by such an abject terror, I simply couldn’t go on. I felt a sudden revulsion at his touch, and I knew that if I continued with the charade, only abject misery would follow.”
She looked at her aunt, expecting the woman to react harshly to such words. It made no sense for her to call off the engagement for no real reason. But she couldn’t read her aunt’s expression because she wasn’t reacting at all. She was simply listening. She didn’t even say anything during what became a very long pause in Isoline’s tale. She seemed to just be waiting for Isoline to continue without prodding.
“I’m sorry,” Isoline finally continued. “I must seem very ridiculous to you.”
“There is nothing ridiculous about knowing your own mind, Isoline,” Bellamira said. “You might not yet know why you ended things with this Cyril, and maybe you never will. But you know you couldn’t marry him, and it took a lot of strength to admit that. Most girls would simply have gone on with it even when they know they shouldn’t. More people should listen to that little voice of warning in the back of their mind. We’d probably all be happier for it.”
Isoline nearly cried in relief. “Oh, auntie,” she said. “I never thought anyone would understand me.”
Bellamira stood, indicating luncheon and the conversation was at an end. “Well, I never said I understood you,” she clarified. “After all, I married. I did my duty. I only never lived to regret it since…” She paused and took a pained breath. “The earl died quite soon after we married, you see.”
Isoline nodded. She did not know how young Bellamira had been when her husband died, but since they did not have children, she assumed they could not have been married for long.
“He was companionate enough, but…Well, that’s enough nostalgia for today, I should think. If you don’t want Tristan to call, I shall simply reply and tell him to bugger off.”
“Oh, no,” Isoline said. “I don’t object to his company, but only as a friend. He saved my life, and he is family, of a sort. I only don’t want to be expected to accept him as anything more.”
“Hmm,” Bellamira replied with a nod. “I see. Well, he will be here at two o’clock for tea.”
“My dear cousin!” Tristan exclaimed as he crossed the room toward her. “How lovely to see you looking so…lovely!” He gripped her hands in his and kissed the back of each one excitedly.
Isoline had taken some care with her appearance. Wearing a bit of powder and lip paint and smoothing her hair. She was wearing another old-fashioned gown. Poor Jenny had been doing what she could to clean and repair Isoline’s clothes, and while she had done wonders at saving many pieces, she had yet to recreate a complete outfit. Isoline feared it would only be a matter of days before she would have to ask Bellamira to provide her with a new wardrobe. While Bellamira was expected to care for her new ward, including making sure she was well-clothed, no one could have expected for her to need an entirely new retinue so soon after arriving. Even though Bellamira clearly had more money than Croesus, Isoline had no idea how miserly her aunt was, if at all. Would she balk at such an expense, or would it be nothing to her? It was a conversation Isoline preferred to put off for as long as possible.
“Tristan,” Isoline said, leading him over to the same set of couches as before. When he sat, he seemed to think she would sit next to him, but she slipped her hands from his grasp and sat across from him. “I am glad to see you,” she said, motioning for Talbot to serve the tea.
“And I you,” he said. “I was hoping you were recovering well from your accident.”
“Oh yes,” Isoline said. “Quite well. My aunt is so kindly, and the staff have been quite gentle with me, making sure my every need is met.”
Talbot handed a teacup and saucer with a variety of sweet and savory snacks on it to Tristan, who addressed him directly. “I am glad to hear of it, Talbot.”
“Not at all, sir,” Talbot said. “It is our privilege to care for the young miss.”
“Do you see how they dote on me?” Isoline said as she accepted her teacup in her turn. “Talbot took such care with my books, you wouldn’t know they ever spent a night in the rain.”
“You enjoy reading?” Tristan asked. “Romances and poetry, no doubt,” he said with a chuckle at his own joke.
“Not at all,” Isoline was quick to correct him. “Oh, I enjoy the occasional romance, to be sure. But I far more enjoy the mental rigger of philosophy.”
Tristan laughed again. “Aristotle? Socrates?”
“For a start,” Isoline said as she sipped her tea. “But their ideas, while novel for their time, are quite rudimentary and outdated now, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Tristan replied as he fidgeted with his saucer. “It is hard to compete with the classics.”
“I agree,” Isoline said. “Many people don’t want to argue with convention, but I appreciate those who do, such as Adam Smith or Hildegard of Bingen. And I think Mary Wollstonecraft writes some rather shocking things, but smart truths as well. But my heart has a special place for Descartes.”
“And why her?” Tristan asked as he sipped at his tea.
“You mean him?” Isoline asked helpfully.
“Oh, of course,” Tristan said. “My mind was still on your affection for Mary.”
Isoline nodded. “Well, Descartes wrote about dreams, something I am very interested in.”
“And why is that?” he asked, though he didn’t seem particularly interested as he sat back comfortably and eyed his teacup.
Isoline shrugged. “I have always had very vivid dreams. I can’t help but wonder if there is any meaning to them. Descartes said, ‘Et tout de même qu'un esclave qui jouissait dans le sommeil d'une liberté imaginaire, lorsqu'il commence à soupçonner que sa liberté n'est qu'un songe, craint d'être réveillé, et conspire avec ces illusions agréables pour en être plus longuement abusé, ainsi je retombe insensiblement de moi.’”
Tristan’s mouth quirked up to one side, so Isoline politely translated the quote t
o English.
“‘I am like a prisoner who happens on enjoy an imaginary freedom in his dreams and who subsequently begins to suspect that he is asleep and, afraid of being awakened, conspires silently with his agreeable illusions,’” she said. “I think many women find a freedom in their dreams that they are unable to find in their waking hours.”
“That must explain why women sleep so much,” Tristan said with a laugh.
Isoline gave a polite smile but did not agree. She decided not to waste her time trying to discuss philosophy with him further. She sadly had to accept that even here in Thornrush, she would not find someone willing and able to discuss her interests.
“So where is our dear aunt?” Tristan asked as he handed his cup to Talbot.
“She should be down presently,” Isoline said. “But I am glad of her delay. I wanted a chance to thank you, truly and properly, for your assistance the other night. Surely, if you had not come upon me when you did I would have died. I can never thank you enough.”
“I am glad to have been of such assistance, dear cousin,” he said. “But you needn’t give me such credit. You may have caught a cold from being in the rain, but surely would not have died.”
“No,” Isoline said. “I am sure of it. In the carriage, the smoke and ash. If you hadn’t…”
The parlor door opened and Bellamira entered. “Forgive the delay, nephew,” Bellamira said as Tristan rose and ran over to grip her hands. “You bothered to actually send a notice of your arrival so I thought I should go to the effort of making myself presentable.”
“You could wear a bag and be presentable, auntie,” Tristan said as he kissed her cheek.
Bellamira moved to the couch and indicated she would like a cup of tea, which Talbot quickly brought her.
“What did I miss?” Bellamira asked.
Dangerous Passions Page 5