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Isabel rose. ‘Jane?’ she queried.
‘No, you must go alone,’ Jane said. ‘He will only want you to repeat what you told Mama.’
Isabel left her and Jane went to her own room and tried to concentrate on sewing beads on the wedding dress. But her attention wandered and the needle slipped from her fingers. What could she do? She wanted to help her sister and shield Mark from scandal, but she had a dreadful feeling that, if Isabel persisted, scandal was inevitable and both families would suffer. On top of Teddy’s flight from his debts and the accusations of Lord Bolsover, it would be the last straw from which they might never recover. She heard a door slam downstairs and running footsteps and then silence. Isabel had evidently fled. She did not come upstairs and Jane wondered whether to go and find her, but she really could not go on trying to persuade her sister to go ahead with the marriage when all her own senses were crying out in despair. It was one more sacrifice she was being asked to make and she was beginning to feel a trifle rebellious. In any case Isabel, who nearly always managed to have her own way, would not listen to her.
* * *
Mark could not understand Isabel’s moods. He had never known her to be irritable. She flared up occasionally, but her sunny nature usually soon reasserted itself, yet now it seemed nothing he could do was right. And he was appalled by her rudeness to Jane. He could see Jane had been hurt, although she did not show it, except by the bleakness in her eyes. He hoped when he arrived at the Manor, Isabel would have made her peace with her sister and be ready to come with them to Witherington. The Hadlea Children’s Home project was important to Jane and he wanted to help her, so was Isabel jealous? If she would not go to Witherington with them, then he must make up for it in other ways.
He took the route through the woods, which surrounded the Manor. The sun filtered through the canopy of trees, making dancing streaks of light along the path ahead of him. Overhead a blackbird sitting on a branch let it be known he was encroaching on its territory. There were other sounds, too—the soughing of the wind, rustling, squeaking, the distant barking of a dog—but they were only small sounds and did not impinge on the peacefulness. And then he heard another sound that was not peaceful. Someone was sobbing not far away, someone in dreadful distress. He hurried to find the source of the sound and found Isabel lying on the ground beneath an ancient oak, curled up in a tight ball.
He ran forward. ‘Isabel, whatever is the matter?’ He knelt down, put his arm about her and helped her to sit up. ‘Why are you crying?’
‘Oh, it’s you.’ The voice was watery.
He produced a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to her. ‘Did you fall? Are you hurt?’
‘I didn’t fall and I am not hurt, at least, not in the way you mean.’ She sniffed and mopped her eyes.
‘Then what is it?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing?’ he queried, tilting up her chin, making her look at him. ‘You do not weep for nothing, so you had better tell me. After all, I will soon be your husband, the one to whom you turn regarding whatever is troubling you, the one whose privilege it is to solve all your problems.’
‘You are the problem,’ she burst out and began to cry again.
‘Me? What have I done? If I have hurt you, then I beg forgiveness, it was not intentional. Are you cross because I spend so much time on Jane’s orphanage? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’
‘I do not care how much time you spend with Jane and her orphanage.’
‘Go on.’
‘I cannot marry you, Mark. I don’t want to be Lady Wyndham. I should make you miserable.’
‘You must let me be the judge of that.’
‘And I should be miserable, too.’
‘Ahh. There is more to it. Come, out with it.’
‘Mama and Papa say I cannot break off the engagement, it will cause a dreadful scandal.’
‘Not half the scandal if I were to break it off.’
‘Do you wish to?’
‘Isabel, my dear, I would never hold you to an engagement you found abhorrent. You may jilt me if you choose and I will not complain, but I would like to know the reason for it.’
‘I do not love you, cannot love you.’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘Well, that is a blow to my ego.’
‘I am sorry. I am very fond of you. You are like a big brother and I would hate to be at odds with you, but the truth is—’ She stopped suddenly.
‘You have fixed your affections elsewhere, is that it?’
