There was a stinging sensation in his eyes even as he let out a sharp bark of a laugh. Who was to know his past? Some days, he hardly knew it. The shadows were too quick to creep in should he think on it too long. While his friends knew the basic details, they didn’t know the extent of everything. No one would. It had hurt then, and it would hurt now.
I won’t destroy someone like Isabel with the truth.
His entire body stiffened as he stared her down, muttering in a clear and stern tone, “There is no need to bring the darkness of my past into the light of your soul.”
“But––”
“No. You do not know what you ask.”
Inhaling sharply with a quivering breath, Isabel finally pulled back and stared at him. Her hand trembled and splashed wine on her glove. While the gaze in her eyes was difficult for him to read, he hoped it meant she understood.
As for Sebastian, he pulled back. He hated himself for the cruelty even as he told himself this was necessary. “I beg your pardon. I find myself no longer hungry for supper. Please enjoy yourself.”
He bowed and left immediately, hoping she hadn’t seen the shaking in his own hands either.
CHAPTER 17
Isabel watched Sebastian leave. One of the servants stepped into her line of vision with a blank but inquisitive look. When she nodded, he closed the door.
And then she was alone, free from the scoundrel.
“Oh!” She groaned as she grabbed at the nearest item––a heavy chair––to give it a good shake. It hardly moved which only frustrated her more. “That… that man!”
How dare he? To tease and to mock me, to move so close only to slam a door in my face. What games is he playing? How dare he treat me so?
Huffing, she gave it one last shove before pacing to the other end of the room. It didn’t take her far. She wound up moving in a circle once, twice, and thrice until she felt she might grow dizzy.
Through the side door came in one of the servants with the first food dish, only to pause at the threshold. She eyed Isabel hesitantly before lowering her gaze. “Your Grace?”
She pulled herself up.
Right. I am a duchess first now. Before anything else. Before woman, before daughter, and certainly before wife.
“Thank you for your hard work this evening. I’m afraid plans have changed. Have a tray sent to my bed chamber shortly and the household can enjoy everything else,” she said while praying her voice sounded even.
Her grip on the chair was so tight her knuckles turned white. She also hoped no one saw that.
After Isabel excused the servants, she excused herself as well. There was so much hurt welling up inside her that it felt like it might overwhelm her if she wasn’t careful. Her heart pounded hard against her chest. It ached even when she gave it a gentle rub.
I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. That’s what went wrong. Thinking that he might care… that he might even think to kiss me… What was I doing? And why is he so bitter?
She looked down in the candlelight of one of the many rooms in the house where she had wandered in, doorway after doorway,to see her hands still trembled. Clenching them into fists, she let out a heavy sigh.
“Is this it?” Isabel asked the room while struggling to grasp her own emotions. “Am I meant to be a ghost in my own life?”
The emptiness offered no response. It only offered a reflection of her own feelings, forcing her to acknowledge that which she wished to ignore. She didn’t want to be so disappointed in her marriage. In truth, she feared, she wished for more. She wished for a husband who cared for her and a marriage where they could be happy. Together.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Why couldn’t I be satisfied with us being strangers? This wasn’t a union either of us intended or desired… If only I could forget everything.
Isabel eventually made her way up to her bed chamber where she picked at her supper tray. It wasn’t long before she decided retired. Her maid offered several inquiries to see what she could do to help, but Isabel merely wished to be alone and to sleep.
Except sleeping through the night didn’t fare well. She tossed and turned for hours until she could take it no more. After she dressed in a comfortable dress on her own, she found herself a book and curled up in the drawing room at the front of the house.
“Who lit the fire?”
Her bleary eyes needed a moment to focus on the person standing in the dark of the doorway. That was where Sebastian preferred to be, apparently, in the dark.
Too tired to be surprised or intimidated, Isabel merely lowered her book. “I’m capable of caring for myself.”
