Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
The one moment she had mustered the strength to look at him, he had stared at her like she was a stranger. It had hurt her to the depths of her heart to see him like that. To hurt him like that.
But what else could she do? If Ronan had even an inkling that she didn’t mean a word of this, he would come for her. He would ruin everything. He would ruin this sacrifice she was making for him, for Oliver, for the rest of her family.
Someday, I pray he will understand. It is my only hope.
“Hurry up, please,” Isla forced out upon her return to the bed chamber where Doreen was returning. “Is that the jewelry?”
“Yes, everything!”
She shook her head. “No, only the pieces that were new. I can’t travel with anything that is part of the Westvale family.”
Clearly, Doreen didn’t understand. She glanced between the several pieces. “But everything is now part of the Westvale family. You’re part of it, Your Grace.”
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to start screaming.
There was a weight in Isla’s heart that was growing so heavy she could barely keep her head up. She was trying not to drown in every breath she took. Swallowing, she forced herself to look through the pieces before correctly confirming the list with Doreen. Most of it, she decided, would go back to Ronan.
Only a few pieces remained. Not to keep because they were pretty, but because they were her insurance just in case anything more happened.
“Quickly now, if you please,” Isla said once Doreen was back. She herself had managed to finish two of the three trunks. “Where is the carriage?”
“Ready. The footmen will be here in a moment. Do I need to alert anyone else?” Doreen asked. “And then I still need to pack.”
Isla formed a new lump in her throat. “I know. I’m sorry, Doreen. But I need to go alone. I won’t need a maid with me.”
The woman stared at her. “You’re a duchess. Of course you need a maid.”
“I mean there will be one to use instead,” Isla forced herself to lie. “They don’t have room for more. I’m not letting you go, Doreen, by any means. I simply don’t have the time or space for you. It’s only for a little while,” she added when Doreen’s eyes filled with tears.
If anyone else cried, she would surely cry. Though she had spent most of the night quietly weeping, Isla knew there was a fount of pain still within her that needed more time to mourn all that she was losing.
I’m so sorry, Doreen. I’m so sorry, Ronan. Oh, lord, Oliver, I never had the chance to give you a proper farewell. I didn’t hug you long enough before leaving.
“Very well, Your Grace,” Doreen choked out.
It was confusing business for the entire household. Everyone was confounded by Isla’s insistence she had to be on her way at once. No one packed and left so quickly. She had three trunks, but they weren’t filled all the way; she should be taking more with her.
But she wasn’t. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
The household sent her curious glances and questioning looks. They left room in their words to her so she could explain whatwas happening. Only she didn’t. She didn’t explain herself to them or anyone else. She could hardly understand it on her own.
I don’t have a choice. I have to leave. I have to… Blast it, I have to get out of here. It feels like the walls are closing in. How could I ever think this would be my home? How did I ever think I was free? A woman has no place in this world. I was never going to win. All of this was just a mockery of a dream I never deserved.
Isla had attempted to request a hackney, but the household refused, insisting on the carriage. So she climbed in, wiped away the tears, and told the driver, “To my family’s house, please.”
They would know and surely report to Ronan. Not that he would care any longer. But should they have to answer, he could have that truth.
“Yes, Your Grace.” No one dared question her orders. She supposed that was for the best.
It was a dull ride. She didn’t take notice of the traffic, the weather, or the distance. There was nothing to note. Nothing mattered.
“Goodness gracious, what on earth is going on? Isla!” Her mother bustled about the door upon her arrival. The woman smiled in confusion, her eyes darting about as the servants brought in the trunks. “How darling to see you. Are you… staying?”
“Just for a day or two,” Isla murmured. She couldn’t meet her mother’s eye. Fiddling with her gloves, she asked, “is my room available?”
Her mother frowned. “The one you shared with your sisters? They’re still there. But it’s hardly appropriate for a duchess.”
