Chapter Sixteen

 

As a duke, Laurence was expected to be an articulate speaker, an avid conversationalist, and the man others held in esteem. However, despite these expectations, he could not help but feel intimidated as he stood in the drawing room of Scarlett Hall surrounded by the dozen or so guests, most much younger than he and with whom he had never been acquainted. They laughed and whispered amongst themselves, and in those hurried words, he feared they spoke about him, of how he was half a man because he could not walk upright with pride and honor. Of the fact that he lacked the attributes that made him a duke.

Perhaps they wondered how a woman as lovely and outspoken as Isabel could agree to marry a man such as he. His reply could have been it was because she loved him, but that was simply not the truth. She had married him in order to save her family home, a marriage of convenience, and although it was not uncommon to marry for this reason, somehow it felt odious, for he had always wished to marry for love. For so many years, he worried that women only saw what was in his coffers and not what he had to offer, and, in the end, that is exactly what he received. Life was certainly ironic.

The fact of the matter was that Laurence could not recall many of the peerage who had married in love. Although that emotion had eluded him and Isabel, Laurence believed that one day they would at least gain a mutual affection for one another.

Isabel stood beside Nathanial, and Laurence had never seen her smile so broadly or laugh so gaily. Perhaps they should have the boy over for dinner some night while he was home from school, for if he could make her smile where Laurence was unable, it would be worth the time spent.

Isabel laughed once more and then turned. Their eyes met, and Laurence could not stop his smile from growing. It had been the power of her smile that had captivated him that day of their outing, that drove away the fear that had gripped him moments before, and he silently swore that he would do what he could to make her happy. No expense was too great. No request too outlandish.

A moment later, she whispered something to her brother and then joined Laurence. “I apologize for leaving you alone,” she said with a smile. “I was so absorbed in my conversation with Nathanial that I am afraid I neglected you.”

“No. He is your brother, and I would expect you to spend time with him. I imagine you have much to discuss since he has been away at school.”

“Indeed,” she replied. “Mother sent him off much too young, in my opinion. He has attended Eton only two years, and he returns home three times a year; however, it seems he has been gone much longer. For as long as I have been gone from here…”

Her voice trailed off, and Laurence had a better understanding of how much she missed Scarlett Hall. Then a thought came to him, one that he suspected would please her immensely.

“How long will Nathaniel be here?” he asked. Juliet and her cousin Annabel laughed in the corner, and when their eyes fell on him and they giggled once more, a flicker of fear went through him. Worry began to knot his stomach, and he worried he would sick up what little he had eaten.

“Another week,” Isabel replied. “Why do you ask?”

Laurence swallowed back the bile that rose in the back of his throat and made a pretense of taking a drink of his wine. “Perhaps you should return for a visit before he leaves,” he said when he was certain he would not be sick. “On your own, of course. Or he is welcome to come to Camellia Estates if you’d like.”

The twinkle in Isabel’s eyes told him her response before she spoke the words. “Oh, that is a wonderful idea!” she said. “Thank you. I will come to visit for a few days before he returns to school. Oh, he will be so pleased.”

Suddenly, Laurence had a strange urge to kiss this woman. She was giddy with excitement, and her face glowed with pleasure, and all he could do was wonder what it would be like to press his lips to hers at this very moment.

The thought left him as Lady Lambert approached. “I hope you are enjoying yourself, Your Grace,” she said.

“I am,” he replied. “Although, I believe that it is Juliet’s enjoyment of the day that is of consequence, not mine. And by her gleefulness, I would say you have exceeded her expectations.”

Lady Lambert nodded. “I do not mean to burden you, but may I speak to you in private for a moment?”

“Certainly,” Laurence replied curiously. Then he turned to Isabel. “I will return shortly.”

“I will be with Nathanial,” Isabel replied, although she shot her mother a strange glare.

Laurence followed Lady Lambert down the hallway to the study that had once belonged to Lord Lambert. The baroness closed the door behind them and then went to the dark sofa, offering him the seat beside her. “I wanted to thank you for all you have done,” she said. “To know that Nathanial will have a home to inherit, that my daughters will one day…” her words trailed off, and she removed a kerchief from the sleeve of her dress and dabbed at the corner of her eye.

“I assure you,” Laurence said, “the arrangement has been rewarding to both of us. I find my time with Isabel engaging, and I believe she does, as well.”

“That is wonderful news,” Lady Lambert said with glee. “I did worry…not that Isabel does not care for you, for I believe she does. Just a mother’s worry is all.”

Laurence studied the woman for a moment. “Is everything all right? Do you have other concerns?”

“No,” the woman replied before giving a heavy sigh. “You spoke of being willing to help me in the matter of business. Our adviser, Mr. Patrick, has gotten on in years, and I am afraid to say that he has become quite senile over the last few months.”

“I see. Are you in need of a budget drawn? Or advice on your current business holdings and future investments?”

“I am afraid I am in need of assistance with everything,” she said as she raised her hands as if in defeat. “I do not know what to do. I am afraid all will be lost if I do not do something soon.” The worry she wore on her features matched that of her voice.

“You have nothing to fear,” Laurence replied with a warm smile. “Have your ledgers sent over to me at your convenience, and anything else you wish me to review. I will look over everything personally and then search out a new adviser who I trust to take over the accounts.”

She sighed with relief and rose from the sofa. “I do not know how to thank you!”

Laurence also stood, and a bolt of pain shot down his leg, and he was forced to grab a nearby chair for support.

“Your Grace!” Lady Lambert said as she hurried over to him.

“I am all right,” he said, straightening his back, although his leg still pained him. However, the burning of his cheeks hurt more, by far. “It tends to give me problems from time to time. I suppose standing for so long has not helped.”

“Would you like to rest? I am sure we can set you up in one of the guest rooms or you are welcome to use the sofa if you would like.”

“No,” Laurence said all too quickly. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “I appreciate your offer, but I believe it has passed. Let us return to the party.”

“If you are certain…”

“I am.”

He followed the baroness back out into the hallway, doing everything in his power not to reach down and massage his leg despite the fact that the pain increased with each step he took. On most occasions, if the pain was this harsh, he would be forced to lie down for several hours until it subsided, but he could not—no, he would not—do that now.

And as they reentered the room, it was as if every eye fell on him, and his embarrassment grew tenfold, for he could not keep himself from limping more than usual. He searched the room for Isabel and was surprised when he could not find her. He felt his humiliation deepen and his anger rise. He had not asked much from his wife, but the fact that she chose to leave him alone with a group of people he barely knew was uncalled for.

He searched the room for a chair, but the closest would force him to walk through the crowd of people. Therefore, he forced a smile, hoping Isabel would return soon. However, as the seconds turned into minutes, his anger only worsened, and all he wanted to do was return home.

***

Isabel had never been happier to be back home. It was as if she had never married and was still living at Scarlett Hall, and she listened intently as Nathanial spoke of his days at Eton School.

“The headmaster is strict,” Nathanial was saying. “I must admit he is fair. I don’t find myself reprimanded as often as other boys.”

“That is because you are a good young man,” Isabel said. She ruffled the boy’s hair, and he grimaced and pulled away. “It has been truly wonderful to see you again. I wish you did not have to return to Eton just yet.”

“But I must,” he said in sudden seriousness. “If I am to take over the dukedom and all of Father’s businesses, I must return and finish my studies.” At times, the boy was as serious as their father had been, which made Isabel want to weep with joy. Coupled with his innocence, he was truly a remarkable young man, even at the age of thirteen.

As they continued their conversation, something in the back of her mind began to gnaw at her. The guests around them laughed and smiled, but one laugh seemed to be missing from the room.

“Juliet,” Isabel whispered under her breath. “Nathanial, I will return in a moment.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find your sister,” Isabel replied.

She walked over to Annabel, who stood talking with a young man Isabel recognized as Loftus Skettington, the son of Lord Skettington, Earl of Warrington, a young man whose reputation most decent people found questionable. Why he had even been invited was a wonder, but Isabel suspected her young cousin might have had something to do with it. And by the guilty expression she wore, she knew she was right.

“Isabel,” Annabel said in a shaky voice.

“Excuse us a moment,” Isabel mumbled as she grabbed her cousin by the arm and pulled her aside with a faint smile for the boy to whom she had been speaking. When they were a decent distance away, she lowered her voice and hissed, “Is Juliet where I think she is?”

Annabel nodded, and Isabel turned and hurried away to warn her mother about Juliet. She had seen the woman and Laurence go into the study and close the door, so she pressed her ear to the door to listen. If they were there, she would hear their voices.

“I do not know what to do,” her mother was saying. “I am afraid all will be lost if I do not do something soon.”

Anger filled Isabel, and she gave a huff before making her way outside. Leave it to her mother to ask more of Laurence than she already had! Had Isabel’s sacrifice not been enough for the woman? Her mother was going to foolishly lose everything her father and his family had worked so hard to gain if she was not careful. Laurence only had so much he could offer before he cut the woman off completely. And if he did, Isabel would not blame him.

Yet, it was not only the loss of the home that concerned Isabel, although it was the most important. There was also the fact that Juliet and Hannah relied on her to guide them. Here was Juliet, alone in the stables with Daniel, and where was their mother? Locked away in the study discussing the financial situation she had created.

As she neared the stables, Isabel heard hushed voices coming from inside.

“If you wish to please a woman,” Juliet was saying, “you must try harder than that. My lips are not poison, so this time, do it correctly.”

“Yes, Miss,” Daniel replied.

Isabel opened her eyes wide and her heart skipped a beat. Of all the things Juliet could be doing on her eighteenth birthday, sharing in kisses with a servant should not have been one of them!

She rushed to the stable doors. “Juliet! You are a lady, not a common…” Her voice faltered as she tried to take in the scene before her. Juliet sat atop a pile of straw as Laurence held a small plate with a slice of cake on it. The fork, which held a small bite of cake, was aimed at Juliet’s mouth.

“Isabel!” Juliet gasped when she noticed her sister in the doorway gaping at her. “I did not expect you.” She smoothed her skirts nervously. The poor stable hand held his head in shame.

“What are you doing here?” Isabel demanded, hurrying to her sister and brushing away a piece of straw that clung to her hair. “Do you realize that there is a party going on inside the house.”

“Of course I do,” Juliet retorted haughtily. “However, since it is my birthday, and one day I will have my own servants, I thought it best to practice by asking Daniel to feed me.” Daniel’s face reddened even further, and Isabel worried he would have a stroke or some other malady soon.

“You may leave us,” Isabel told the young man.

“I'm sorry,” he said with a bow.

Juliet sniffed derisively. “Do not apologize,” she said. “You are my servant, not hers.”

Anger rose inside Isabel, a cumulation of all that had happened over the past month, and she grabbed her sister by the arm so tightly, the girl cried out in pain. “Do not speak to him in that manner again!” she shouted.

“Isabel?” Juliet asked in shock. “You are hurting me.”

“No!” Isabel said through clenched teeth. “I am sick of the way you treat others. You act like Laurence’s sister, Harriet, believing you are better than anyone else, and I will not put up with it a moment longer!”

“But he is only a servant,” Juliet said with a whimper.

“He is a human being with feelings just like yours. However, that is beside the point. You are a lady, and you should act like one. Not like a child.”

Tears filled Juliet’s eyes, but Isabel ignored them, her anger was so great.

“Your first season will begin soon, and you will not ruin our family name. Not after what I have done to save this family!”

Juliet’s eyes went wide, and Isabel realized she had said more than she had intended. “What do you mean that you saved this family?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Isabel replied. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I suppose I am as prone to theatrics as you are.” This seemed to appease Juliet somewhat, for which Isabel was thankful. “However, the fact remains that you cannot be left alone with Daniel—or any other man. This is not up for discussion. But I also cannot be here every day to remind you.”

Juliet looked down at the ground. “I am sorry,” she said in a low tone. “I did not mean any harm.” Then she looked up at Isabel, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “I wish you were still here.”

“I do, as well,” Isabel said as she pulled her sister in for a hug. “There is not a day that goes by that I do not wish to return to Scarlett Hall.” She sighed and kissed the top of Juliet’s head. “However, I am married and happy in my new home.” She was unsure why she had said the words, for they were a lie. Were they not? Regardless, they made Juliet smile.

“Will you tell Mother?” Juliet asked as they returned to the house. “I do not want her to be angry with me.”

“No. I will not say anything.”

They returned to the drawing room—after Isabel checked that Juliet did not have a blotchy face. No one seemed to have noticed their disappearance, which pleased Isabel.

That is until she saw Laurence. His face was a bright red, and his jaw was drawn tight. Hurrying to him, she placed a hand on his arm, and his eyes clouded with something she could not identify.

“What is wrong? What happened?”

“I…” He seemed unable to speak. “Nothing. Perhaps the cake was a bit too sweet for my stomach.” A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, and Isabel scrunched her brow. However, before she could voice more concern, he added. “A few more minutes, and it will pass.”

Isabel sighed with relief and turned to look back at Juliet, who had joined Annabel as though nothing outside of the party had transpired.

“Scarlett Hall is full of laughter,” Laurence said.

“Indeed,” she replied with a smile. “My only hope is that it remains that way.”

Although she did not speak the words, for she did not want to hurt her husband, she wished her laughter could reside in these halls once again. And for always.