“No,” he ground out, the muscles in his neck straining. “I do not take risks. I am calculated, precise. If you thought otherwise, that is your mistake. Not mine. I never promised you this.”
“That is nae way to live! I ken ye feel for me!”
“I have lost too much already. I never knew my mother because she suffered and died… because of me. I watched Cecilia die trying to fulfill her duty… because of me. I will not put myself in the position of being responsible for that pain again. I cannot do it to Oliver. And I cannot do it…”
To me…
He slammed his hand down on the desk, the sound echoing through the house with a finality that sent a shiver through Isla.
So, this is it…
“Perhaps it is best we return to the arrangement that suits us both,” he continued, his tone formal as if a barrister presenting facts. “I secured you a lofty title when you married me, along with wealth and security for the rest of your days. We also averted the scandal that would have befallen your sister. You provide the necessary presence for my son’s wellbeing and the appearance of family, which you will continue to do. We do not require further children, Isla. You are safe, and I am safe from the possibility of any more loss… if this ends. Now.”
Isla felt the blood drain from her face. His words were a wall, cold and unyielding. The fiery intimacy they shared was nothing but an asterisk to the main contract he outlined so well.
How could I have thought there was a chance for anythin’ more?
She had mistaken duty for feeling, companionship for affection.
Yet what of the fire that burns between us? Nae, he is wrong!
“Safe?” Isla cried, her voice trembling with hurt. “Would ye rather live a solitary life, starved of true affection and of passion?Even when I am right here for ye, Ben? After all we shared together? Do ye wish to live a lie?”
She felt the tears sting her eyes, but refused to let them fall as she blinked hard to keep them at bay.
I willnae cry in front of this emotional coward. I cannae give him the satisfaction.
“Tell me, Yer Grace,” she said finally, her voice dropping to a low, devastated whisper. “Did ye ever truly see me as a partner, a woman of worth? Or was I always just a convenient solution to a problem? A scarred spinster ye can easily ignore, resist entirely?”
Benedict opened his mouth, a raw, tormented sound catching in his throat. Yet, no actual words came out.
Isla looked at his frozen, tormented face one last time before she turned and walked out of the study, the silence of the townhouse swallowing her pain as she retreated to her private quarters.
A carefully outlined life, with parameters and duties, Isla thought as she pulled up her stockings to go for a morning stroll to clear her mind.
That is all that this will be for me.
The rest of the day passed in a silent routine dictated by protocol as they went about their business, seeing to business matters or paying social calls. Isla knew from that point on, they would sleep in separate rooms and share only the most necessary of formal meals at opposite ends of the dining table.
And so, she resolved to throw herself into the meticulous care of Oliver’s wellbeing.
I willnae let the boy suffer for his faither’s coolness…
She supervised his lessons, read him stories, and ensured his days were filled with activity as they anticipated returning to Ealdwick Manor once more in the next few days, as soon as the weather was sure to be clear. Yet, her mind drifted, leaving her gazing blankly at the page while Oliver waited for the next word.
“Isla, are you all right? I hope you feel well,” he said the following afternoon as they sat in the library reviewing a book of Greek myths. “What were you saying about Athena?”
“Aye, I am very sorry,” Isla said, scooping up the manuscript and finding her place once more. “I lost me place on the page. One moment.”
“I know what it is,” Oliver said with a smile.
“What?” Isla asked, a pang of dread in her stomach.
“You are excited for Christmas and are having trouble focusing. Is that it?”
“Aye you caught me,mo chridhe,” she said with a forced smile. “Let us continue the story of Athena’s birth. Her faither, Zeus had a terrible headache.”
“Like Papa?”
