AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But just as abruptly, the storm clouds had moved in and Isadora had closed herself off from him in such a manner that his head was spinning. She had kissed him as if her very life had depended on it, and then ran away from him and went hurtling down the incline. When he’d saw her fall, shock had kept him immobile, until he realized that she might be hurt. It wasn’t untilafter he was assured of her welfare that his rational side had taken over and demanded answers.
All this time she might have claimed to want independence, but something told him it was no more than a way to safeguard her heart, and her cool disposition was just another means of keeping everyone at a distance. He was even more convinced after what she’d just told him. Nevertheless, he intended to unlock her secrets and free her from those personal chains.
As he helped her down from the carriage, he lifted his hand and reached for her. She flinched, and his brows drew together. “Easy. I was just getting this.” He caught the blade of stray grass in her dark locks and held it out in front of him to prove that was all he was after, and then he let it flutter to the ground.
He turned on his heel and would have disappeared inside the establishment if she hadn’t laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Thank you, my lord.” He glanced back at her. “I know our outing didn’t… end as you might have expected, but I did enjoy the castle. I appreciate you taking me there.”
He released a heavy sigh. No matter what happened, he couldn’t remain upset with her. Especially since he had the feeling that she was more twisted inside than she cared to let anyone see. He offered her a slight smile. “You’re welcome.”
He continued on, striding through the taproom and up the stairs to his room. He shut the door behind him and didn’t bother removing his jacket or shoes before he sank down on the bed and put his head in his hands. Abruptly, he got back to his feet and walked over to the decanter and the single glass that he’d requested his first night there. While he wasn’t a heavy drinker, he liked a bit of brandy now and then.
Right now, he was tempted to down the entire bottle.
Pensive, he took a drink and was about to cross the room to sit in the chair next to the mantel and ponder his next move with Lady Isadora, when there was a knock at the door. Instantly, his every sense went on alert.
Wondering if it might be Isadora, he set his drink on the dresser and walked over to answer it. On the other side was the innkeeper’s son, Tommy. “Mr. Davies.” He greeted politely. He hoped that the disappointment in finding he wasn’t who Rem had been wanting to see didn’t show on his face. “How goes the theatre lately?”
The lad grinned broadly. “Very well, my lord. I hope to have a major role soon, now that Nathanial is to be married.” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a neatly folded missive. “I was told to give this to you the moment you returned. The messenger who delivered it said it was urgent.”
Every hair on the back of Rem’s neck rose when he spied the familiar, Scottish seal on the letter. He couldn’t imagine how his aunt had managed to find him.
Unless, of course, it was a family emergency.
He slowly reached out and took it. He cleared his throat and said absently, “Thank you.”
Tommy left, but Remington continued to stand there and stare at the square paper in his grasp. He knew he should open it, but he wasn’t sure he could handle what the contents inside might tell him. He was afraid that his grandfather had died and that he had failed to grant his dying wish to meet.
Which would make him more of a giant ass than he already was.
Isadora wantednothing more than a hot bath and an equally steaming cup of tea. She would be surprised if the marquess actually spoke to her after this debacle of an afternoon. Of course, she only had herself to blame if that were the case. She hadn’t meant to act so rashly, but he had frustrated her to the point she didn’t know what to do. It was either run away—or stay and keep kissing him in abandon.
She sighed and was about to go into her room when she glanced down the hall. Lord Osgood was standing in the doorway of his room. He was holding a letter and had the oddest, ashen expression on his face, and she couldn’t resist checking to make sure all was well.
She slowly walked closer. “My lord?” He didn’t even flinch, so she spoke up a bit louder. “My lord?”
He blinked, as if coming out of some sort of trance, and then looked at her, almost in confusion.
“Are you unwell?” she asked gently.
“I, um…” He cleared his throat. “I received this.” He held up a letter.
Isadora recalled their previous conversation—the strain among his Scottish family. That would certainly explain his reticence. When nothing further was forthcoming, she asked hesitantly, “Would you like me to sit with you while you open it?”
He frowned in apparent contemplation, and then moved away from the door, opening it wider in silent invitation.
She walked inside and he shut the door. However, he didn’t move from where he stood, but kept staring at the missive in his grasp. He swallowed visibly. “I’m not sure I can read it.”
“Do you think it’s about your grandfather?”
“Mmm…” was all he said in reply. He held out the letter. “Would you… read it for me?”
She nodded. “Of course.” She took the missive from him. “Why don’t you sit down?” she suggested gently.
“Er, yes.” He walked over and started to take a seat next to the mantel, but then he changed direction and retrieved a drink that had been sitting on his dresser. “I may need this,” he explained with a mumble, and then returned to his original destination.
Isadora remained standing as she broke the seal. She unfolded the paper and found it to be a short and direct note. Her voice was clear and strong as she began to read.
Lord Osgood,
