Chapter Eight

 

The day arrived when Isabel was to give her answer to Laurence, and as she stood before the large standing mirror in her bedroom, she thought about the life this unobtrusive piece of furniture had seen over the years of the woman who stood before it. At one time, this mirror had reflected the laughter of a young girl. Then the smile of a woman as she anticipated her wedding. Now, the person who stared back at her wore a mask of sorrow. If one were to observe her, they would believe it was her reluctance for the upcoming nuptials that made her sad. However, her sorrows began well before her return to Scarlett Hall.

Her hand went to a small ornate jewelry box on the table. She hesitated as she stared at the ring on her finger, the ring Arthur had given her on their wedding day three years earlier. Soon, another ring would rest on that finger, a symbol of love to the casual observer. However, she did not love Laurence, and she never would. How could she love a man who wed her under such circumstances? Any notion of love was impossible in such a situation.

Yet, she would marry the man for the sake of her sisters and her brother Nathanial. It was their future that was important, and if that meant she was to be without love, then she would do so with a smile. Not to please her new husband, nor her mother, but for her siblings. For they were the future of Scarlett Hall.

It was imperative no one learned the reason behind her marriage to Laurence, especially Hannah, for if she knew, her perception of marriage would only be solidified. The girl might believe she had no interest in love, but Isabel knew her too well; if she became a spinster, she would live to regret it eventually. Hannah might hide behind her books, but she had a passion within her that even she did not realize she carried.

Juliet, on the other hand, would search for a man of wealth rather than marry for love. The younger of her sisters also had passion, but she did not hide it as Hannah did. All too often it got her into trouble, and if she was unable to express it properly—meaning if she did not marry a man she loved—who knew what would happen to her?

No, they could not learn the sacrifice Isabel was making for the afore mentioned reasons, but also because they would do all they could to impede the wedding. If that were to happen, Scarlett Hall would be lost to them forever.

Therefore, Isabel removed the ring that represented her former marriage, placed it in a box, and hid it away, along with her secret.

With a sigh, Isabel walked to the door. She had heard a carriage arrive several minutes earlier, so now it was time to speak to Laurence about their upcoming marriage.

Marriage. Just the thought of the word had her mind racing and made her stomach knot. Yet, she pushed aside the and forced her mind to consider not herself, but everyone who would benefit from this arrangement.

She did wonder what benefit Laurence would receive. Was he concerned about heirs? Or, as she had considered before, was he simply lonely? Had he had an interest in marrying her all along? If so, for how long? Certainly, he had not found a sudden infatuation with her. And was the picnic and the words he spoke the day of their outing both means to win her over? Or had he been speaking the truth? So many questions, none of which she was likely to ask—or for which she would receive any answers if she was inclined to do so.

She paused on the landing to look out over the foyer. Sunlight from the setting sun streamed in through the large window above the front door, creating a crisscross pattern of yellowish orange across the ceiling. How many times had she seen that pattern throughout her life? How often had she entered through that door as a child? And later as a woman? Soon, she would leave through that door for good, perhaps only to return a few times a year. Yet, had she not had these same thoughts the first time she was wed?

With a sigh, she continued her journey to the drawing room. No amount of recollection would stop the moment from arriving, so there was no need to search for ways in which to forestall it.

In the drawing room, she found her mother seated upon the sofa, Laurence in one of the set of two chairs across from it. When she entered, her mother smiled, but Isabel did not return it. She might be forced to show contentment to her siblings, but she refused to give her mother the satisfaction; it was her fault they were in this mess in the first place.

Laurence stood and bowed, and she dropped into a flawless curtsy. Would he read the mocking in it? She hoped not, but she also could not help herself.

“It is good to see you,” Laurence said as he waited for her to sit.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she replied in formal tones. If he expected her to be friendly, he was sadly mistaken. However, as he returned to his seat, she could not help but recall how charming he had been during their outing together, and she wondered if that kindness would transfer to their marriage. Or had it been his way of donning sheep’s clothing?

“Now that Isabel is here,” her mother said as she rose from her seat, “I will leave you two alone to speak. Can I send anything in for you to drink? I can have a tea tray sent up, or Forbes can pour some drinks?”

“No, thank you,” Laurence replied. “Unless Isabel wishes something?”

The question rang inside Isabel’s head. Did she wish for something? Indeed, she wished for this marriage to not take place. She wished her mother had not squandered their family’s fortune to leave Scarlett Hall in ruins. She wished her father were there to ease the burden; he would have known what to do, and that would not have included marrying her off to some duke she did not love.

“No,” she said instead. What good would come about by speaking her thoughts? They would only complicate matters, and in the end, she would marry the duke anyway.

Isabel’s mother nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. A silence that seemed to last an eternity remained, and Isabel considered that perhaps the man was just as nervous as she. Yet, that made no sense; he was a duke, not some young boy who knew nothing of the world.

“Have you considered my offer?” Laurence asked, breaking the silence. “That is…our marriage?”

“I have,” Isabel replied.

However, before she could continue, Laurence spoke again. “I would like to explain several things before you answer. Do you mind?”

She shook her head. “No, I do not mind.” She wondered if he would explain his expectations for her. Perhaps that was a good idea. No one wanted to enter a marriage without knowing what he or she was getting into.

“If you agree to this marriage, which I hope you will, I promise I will do everything I can to make you happy.” He sighed as he placed his hands on his knees. He was nervous! “I do not believe that money can bring joy, but it does make life less miserable.”

“That is true,” Isabel replied. “For without it, well…” She allowed her words to hang in the air.

“I realize we are not marrying for love; however, I do not believe that in itself is horrible. I am open to exploring it when the time comes.”

What she wanted to tell this man was that she could never love him. That she had tried love before and would not take that chance again. Instead, she offered what she thought would appease him. “I believe we are compatible in many ways. I look forward to that.”

Her words clearly placated him, for his face beamed with a large smile and, although she did not feel it, she returned the gesture. She was well-practiced at pretending to be happy.

“That is wonderful,” he said. “I believe the same. In fact, I believe this marriage will be a blessing to us both.” Isabel went to ask why he would believe such a thing, but he barreled past her with his words. “I have longed to be happy, and together, we can explore this new relationship. You will bring the happiness I need, and, perhaps, I can do the same for you.”

His words were thoughtful but not realistic. What did this man know of heartache and the destruction of one’s soul?

Then it occurred to Isabel that Laurence might not love her, but he did care for her, which was more than she would have if her mother had arranged for her to marry some old baron or a rogue simply because he was willing to pay off the debt she had acquired. Her life could have been so much worse.

“I agree.”

Laurence gave her a wide smile. “You will be a duchess; have you considered that fact?”

“No, I have not,” Isabel replied. In truth, she had not thought or cared if she received a title. Such things were unimportant in life as far as she was concerned. However, it was expected. As the eldest daughter, the fact she had married a man of the Gentry rather than of the peerage had been enough to wag a few tongues. “It is an honor, and I promise to bring no shame to your family or the title.”

“I never expected you would. That is why I am honored to be marrying you.” He paused. “The wedding will take place in two weeks. Is there anything I can do for you before then?”

Isabel rose from her seat. “No. I believe we have it well at hand. A short engagement requires a short wedding and, therefore, less planning.”

Laurence walked over to her and took her hand in his. “I realize this may not be what you wanted, but, as I said before, I will do everything in my power to make you happy. If you want to explore foreign lands, spend your days reading, whatever you wish to do, you may.”

“You are kind,” Isabel replied. “Thank you.” He was indeed kind. Many men were not so generous. Oh, a man might allow his wife to make lavish purchases, but Laurence spoke beyond what she could buy with his money. He spoke of what accepting what brought her joy. She was not an avid reader like Hannah, and she did not wish to explore foreign lands, but she would find a pastime that allowed her some breath of happiness.

“Then I will begin the arrangements,” he said as he stepped toward the door. He paused for a moment as he faced the door, his hand on his leg. Was he in pain? Yet, before Isabel could inquire, he was walking again, so rather than bring attention to his impairment, she remained quiet as she followed him to the front door.

When he was gone, Isabel’s mother joined her in the foyer. “What was your decision?” she inquired without looking at Isabel.

“Is there a need to ask?” Isabel replied curtly. “Do you believe me so cruel that I would have my sisters suffer? To have Nathanial return to find his home is no longer his?”

“No,” her mother said. “I know you are not a woman who would do such a thing.” Isabel made to move past her mother, but the woman placed a hand on her arm to forestall her. “I know you are angry with me. I wish you knew how much this pains me.”

Isabel pursed her lips and then replied, “If you knew how much this pains me, you would never have made the request.”

Her mother released her arm, and Isabel moved to the stairs. Being angry with her mother did not bring her enjoyment, and it grieved Isabel to speak such hateful words to her. Yet, the woman had brought her family to near ruin, a sin for which Isabel was forced to pay. Therefore, she had every right to voice her opinion, even if the words she spoke stung.

When she reached the top of the stairs, Isabel glanced down at the woman she had once thought strong. Although she still loved her mother, Isabel also understood the strength she once possessed was now gone. And for that, she could not offer forgiveness, for, in two weeks from today, she would be forced to marry, and the remainder of her life would be set for her.