Chapter Eleven

 

Promises. Isabel had made many in her life. She had made promises to be on her best behavior. Given her word to keep a particular secret. Pledged to complete a task asked of her. Now, she stood in the gardens of Camellia Estates to make a vow to obey, serve, honor, love, and keep until death as she had done when she married Arthur, and her mother and sisters were once again in attendance to bear witness. The numbness had returned; however, with her family offering her the grandest of smiles, she at least could force her lips to speak the required words.

One attendee did not offer a smile. Lady Harriet Darlington, Marchioness of Gattlingstone, might have been sister to Laurence, but the two were as different from one another as cats are to dogs. She made it quite clear that she was bored, evident by the tapping of her foot on the cobblestone. However, she made no comment beyond several sighs. Other than the marchioness and Hannah’s family, no others were in attendance, for which Isabel was glad.

The truth of the matter was it was difficult enough to put on the appearance of joy for the few who witnessed the ceremony. However, knowing the ton and their propensity to gossip, the peerage would wonder at the reason for such a quick wedding, and she did not have the strength to lie. Not at that moment and about such a complex situation. Certainly, she could speak an oath she did not feel, but that was different from skirting around the truth and making it believable with people she barely knew.

The old vicar raised a hand as gnarled as the trees that surrounded them as he recited one of the many prayers. Love would guide their footsteps. A bright future lay before them. The words were meant for Isabel and Laurence, but Isabel hoped her sisters would listen, as well.

Hannah and Juliet—and even Annabel—had been spared the disgrace of a rushed wedding, and although they were not aware of the true reasons behind this decision, she prayed they would capitalize on the time that remained before they were also married. The time as children had come to an end, and now they were women; she prayed they would act as such. How they spent the remainder of their unwed lives was what was important.

“Isabel?” Laurence whispered.

She turned her gaze to him. His wavy hair had been neatly combed back, and he wore a kind smile.

“We are finished.”

“Oh,” she said, stifling her gasp. “I am sorry. The excitement…”

The vicar offered a polite smile, and Laurence turned to address their families. “It has been an honor to have you here today; to witness our exchanging of vows. I suggest we return to the dining hall where breakfast will be served.”

Lady Darlington rolled her eyes, acting less a lady than even Juliet. She might be sister to Laurence, but Isabel hoped the woman would be returning to her own home soon.

“Laurence,” the woman said in her haughty tone, “I must speak with you.”

“I will meet you inside,” Laurence whispered. When Isabel nodded, he walked over to his sister and Isabel joined her family.

Her mother wrapped her arms around her, her eyes brimming with tears. “I am so pleased.”

I am sure you are, Isabel thought; although she said nothing, for that blessed numbness stayed her tongue.

“You are a duchess now,” Hannah said. “I would never have thought you would receive such a title!” Then she hung her head. “Not that you are unworthy of such a title.”

Isabel laughed. “I understand your meaning.” She waited out the other embraces and showers of congratulations before saying, “Shall we go eat?”

“I am hungry,” Juliet said. “And tired.” She displayed a wide grin, and Isabel could not help but return it. They had returned to Scarlett Hall well past midnight, and it had taken Isabel several hours to fall asleep despite the effects of the brandy.

Laurence approached and said, “May I have a word for a moment?”

Isabel nodded and turned to her family. “I will meet you inside.”

“I hope there are scones,” Juliet said as she followed Hannah, Annabel, and their mother inside. “I will waste away to nothing if I do not eat soon.”

“You are going to become as large as a house if you are not careful,” Annabel said with a giggle.

Soon, they were out of sight.

“Is everything all right?” Isabel asked when her family had gone.

“Indeed,” Laurence replied. “All is wonderful, in fact. It is Harriet; she wishes to speak to you alone.”

Isabel glanced over at the woman in her delicate blue dress and wide-brimmed hat. “Oh?” she asked, attempting to hide her suspicion.

“I believe she wishes to welcome you to the family.”

Isabel studied the marchioness for a moment and doubted highly what he said was the case. However, rather than argue the fact, she said, “Then I shall speak to her.” She forced a smile that Laurence seemed to accept without fault.

She walked over to Lady Darlington, who waited in the shade of a large tree, fanning herself with vigor. “You wished to speak to me?” Isabel asked, pleased that her voice remained calm.

“It must be exciting to be a duchess,” the woman said in an overly sweet tone. “Do you not believe so?”

“I am pleased to be married to Laurence, if that is what you ask,” Isabel replied. “Whether he has a title or not is of no concern to me.”

Lady Darlington looked past Isabel as if she had not spoken. “Laurence,” she called, “you have guests inside. Do not keep them waiting.”

Isabel was shocked enough at the manner in which this woman spoke to her brother; however, when he complied without thought, she was flabbergasted.

“My brother is not the brightest of dukes,” Lady Darlington said with a dismissive hand. “Like a dog, he must be trained.”

Whatever numbness that had settled on Isabel disappeared, replaced by annoyance. “I believe he is acceptable the way he is,” she said in retort, not caring if her tone had a bite to it. If this woman was not careful, she would bite her!

“Oh?” Lady Darlington replied. “Does that include his leg?”

Isabel was taken aback. “Of course. Why would it not?”

The marchioness sniffed. “Most women find the sight of his limp revolting. Like a serving of haggis. It is spoken about in wonder, but it scares anyone away.”

“I assure you, his leg—and his title—are of no importance to me,” Isabel said, finding it difficult to remain in the woman’s company for too much longer. If she did, she might just slap the ninny! “Now, if you will excuse me, I have guests waiting.”

As Isabel turned to leave, Lady Darlington caught her by the wrist. “I do not know what game you are playing, Mrs. Barnet, but rest assured, I shall be keeping my eye on you.”

“You believe my marriage to Laurence contrived?”

“I believe so, yes,” the marchioness replied with a quick nod. She released Isabel and gave her the sweetest of smiles as footsteps approached. “But we shall see,” she said, her dulcet tones returned. “I believe that, in the end, we will become good friends. Like sisters.”

Laurence walked up to them, but Isabel could do nothing but stare at the woman.

“Sisters?” Laurence said with a laugh. “I had hoped you two would become fast friends, but this is better than I could have hoped.”

“We shall do everything together,” Lady Darlington said with a smile. “That is, if the new duchess would be so kind as to allow me to be near her?”

Isabel clutched the skirts of her gown to keep from striking the woman. She wanted to call out this woman as a liar, but she could not. Not yet. Therefore, she replied, “Indeed. That would be lovely.”

“Brilliant!” Laurence said. “Come. The food is ready, and we have our marriage to celebrate.”

As they walked inside, Isabel’s stomach began to knot once more. Not only had she gained a new husband to please, but it also appeared she had acquired a sinister sister-in-law, as well.

***

Isabel gathered with her sisters as they waited for the carriage to be brought around. They had enjoyed a lovely breakfast banquet that consisted of pickled herring, honey cakes, a variety of tarts, and lovely rolls dripping with butter. Now, however, her family was to leave, and Isabel was shocked when Juliet threw her arms around her crying and clinging as if she did not want to leave.

“I will miss you,” Juliet cried. “Will we see each other again?”

Isabel kissed her head and laughed. “Of course we will. We are not but three miles apart. I will be at Scarlett Hall so often, you will wish me to leave!”

“Never,” Juliet said as she wiped at her eyes. Then she kissed Isabel’s cheek and moved to allow Hannah to fawn over Isabel.

“If I need you,” Hannah said as she grasped Isabel’s hands so tightly, Isabel thought the bones would break, “may I call over?”

“The silly questions I have received today!” Isabel said with a light laugh. “One would believe I have never been married and away from Scarlett Hall before. Of course, you may call over whenever you wish.” She took Annabel’s hand. “All of you are welcome.” Her words seemed to calm them, and they were less reluctant to leave when the carriage arrived.

As the girls stepped into the vehicle, Isabel turned to face her mother. She did not wish to be angry with the woman any longer, but she could not help the feelings that remained.

“I know you are angry with me,” her mother said as if she could read Isabel’s thoughts. “And I will not attempt to convince you otherwise.” She gave a heavy sigh. “Since the day you were born, I have wanted the best for you. I hope that, one day, you will understand that.”

Without so much as an embrace or a kiss on the cheek, the woman left Isabel and stepped into the carriage, leaving Isabel to stare after her. It did not matter, for words failed her. The anger remained, but it lessened somehow. Her mother was right; she only wanted what was best for her. And for her family.

As the carriage drove away, Isabel sighed. Her sisters were returning to Scarlett Hall, and she prayed they would find happiness.

Then the curtain moved, and Juliet pressed her face against the window with her tongue sticking out. The melancholy that had befallen Isabel washed away, and she laughed until the carriage was out of view. Juliet had always been one to change her moods. Sometimes she could frustrate her, but at other times, such as this, she brought her joy.

As she turned, she nearly jumped out of her slippers when she found Laurence standing directly behind her.

“It has been an exhausting day,” he said. “Although it is not yet noon, I am tired.”

Isabel nodded and then stifled a yawn. “Forgive me. And yes, I am exhausted, as well.”

The two stood staring at each other. The awkwardness was palpable, and Isabel wondered what they would do next.

She did not have long to wait, however, for the door opened, and Lady Darlington walked out. “I am going to call on Margaret,” she said, her nose in the air. “Do not expect me for dinner, for I shall be dining with her this evening.”

“Give Margaret my best,” Laurence called after her. She waved a hand in reply without turning and then stepped into the carriage that had pulled up in front of the house. Soon, that carriage followed the route toward the main road her family’s had.

Once inside, Laurence closed the door, the sound echoing in the foyer—and through Isabel’s body. Suddenly, panic overtook her. She was alone in a new home with a man to whom she was married. And although she had considered it a few times, his next words confirmed her worst fears.

“Allow me to show you your bedroom,” he said and then motioned to the stares.

Isabel found it difficult to breathe. She gave him a nod and followed him up the stairs.

“You will find the pillows filled with the softest down.”

“Lovely,” Isabel whispered. The man seemed to waste no time in wanting to consummate their marriage. Why had she not considered he would? Even after all the questions her sisters had asked the night before, she had rarely thought about it.

They passed a line of portraits of previous dukes and duchesses, and they stared down at her with accusation in their eyes. Was she worthy to be where they had once stood? A woman once married, and to a man of the Gentry at that? She had been lucky when her mother had agreed to her marriage to Arthur, but now she wondered how that had come about. Perhaps being forced to marry Laurence had been her retribution for being allowed to marry for love the first time around.

“Here,” Laurence said as they came to a stop at the top of the stairs, “is where our portraits will hang.” He smiled down at her. “I am certain there will be no argument that yours will be the most beautiful.”

Isabel could not calm her racing heart, and her “Thank you” came as a choked mumble. He did not notice, however, for he gave her a wide grin before continuing to the next floor.

Almost at the end of the long hallway, he stopped before the last door and opened it. He allowed her to enter first, and she glanced around her. A dressing table sat between two tall windows, and a wardrobe twice the size of hers back home sat against a far wall. However, it was the massive four-poster bed with white and pink striped drapes and matching cover that stayed her breath.

Try as she might, no excuse would come to mind to put off the inevitable. She had to be resigned to her fate.

“Isabel?” Laurence said, concern marring his otherwise handsome face. “Are you all right?”

“It-it is lovely,” she said, her eyes falling on the bed once more. “I-I will prepare myself.” She swallowed hard, hoping her breakfast would not make a sudden return.

He placed his hand on her shoulder. “No,” he whispered. “This is your bedroom, not mine.”

Confusion ran through her. “I-I do not understand. If this is my bedroom, where is yours?”

“Next door, at the end the hall,” he said with an amused smile playing on his lips. “I understand this marriage was not planned. I know we were not married because of love, that is, love of lovers.” He sighed. Was he as nervous as she felt? “We have whole lives ahead of us, and I will never make any demands on you. Whatever we do, it should be done in love.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek. In the first time in several years, someone had taken consideration of her feelings.

“Rest and we shall talk later.”

He turned and she placed a hand on his arm. “Laurence,” she said, “thank you. You have extended much kindness to my family. And to me.”

“You are most certainly welcome,” he replied and then left the room.

Isabel sat on the long chest at the end of the bed and looked around her new room. Although she was angry and saddened by her circumstances, she was also aware of the fact that Laurence continued to treat her with the utmost respect. She had thought the man wished to take her to his bed, but instead he had sought to comfort her. And, although she did not love him, it was in that moment that she realized that she did hold a small affection for him. Perhaps it was just the seed that was needed to grow a love they could share together.