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“What about tonight?” she asked.
“Tonight—” His eyes glittered with sensual promise. “You are my wife.”
A fluttering of butterfly wings began in the pit of her stomach as Remington procured them a room at the local inn for the night. Although she had been intimate with him on more than one occasion, this was the first time she would be lying with him as hisbride. For some reason, that made her more anxious than usual.
He led her upstairs to a room that looked like any other traveling inn might, but with a few additions. There were fresh flowers in a vase over the mantel, and there was already a tub filled with steaming water waiting in the corner. There were linens folded neatly and sitting beside the washstand.
The consideration he’d made on her behalf to ensure her comfort meant more than a house full of servants who attended to her every need. “I’ll wait downstairs while you ready yourself for bed.” He cupped her cheek as he said softly, “Take your time and enjoy this evening. We have all night to begin exploring our new life together.” He frowned slightly. “Unless, of course, you wish me to honor the details of my initial proposal—”
She shook her head. “Don’t concern yourself with those stipulations. We can discuss our arrangement at length another time. As you said, this is the perfect time to explore new beginnings.”
He kissed her lightly, but when Isadora might have deepened the embrace, he pulled back and bowed lightly. “I shall call upon you later, Lady Osgood.”
With a wink, he was gone.
Remington sat alonein the private dining area with a pensive expression. Lady Grace had pressed a letter into his palm before he’d left Dalkeith Palace. He knew what it contained, of course. It was the reply to his query about Isadora’s unrequited love. The contents inside of this missive would likely tell him what he wanted to know about Isadora’s history with the mysterious Udell.
But now, as he held the paper in his grasp, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the truth. He considered just throwing it into the fire’s hungry flame and letting it devour the information he’d initially craved, the identity of the man who still had a hold over Isadora that Rem might never be able to break.
He tapped a corner of it against his palm, and then finally ripped apart the seal. There was no going back.
He steeled himself for what he might uncover, and then began to read.
Dear Lady Grace,
I daresay I was surprised to receive your letter regarding a subject that had nearly been forgotten to me. Time has a way of erasing things that are not very pleasant, and now that you mention my niece, Isadora, I recall, quite vividly, the misery that had taken hold of her when the duke decided to move his family to Marlington Hall for good. I couldn’t imagine that she had such a strong attachment to Broxbourne until I stumbled upon the truth.
My dear sister was the first Duchess of Marlington, as you know. After her death I was convinced that her husband was responsible for her demise. Not only was she an exceptional horsewoman, but it just didn’t seem plausible that she would have perished from the very thing that brought her so much joy.
I hired a private investigator to look into the matter, and later learned that he was innocent of any wrongdoing. How any person might suffer so much loss, by burying not one or two, butfourwives within such succession is still unfathomable. I realize how wrong I was to cause him further upset. With the moniker of the ‘Black Widower’ following in his wake, and four daughters to raise, he had enough to contend with without me making matters worse.
However, it was because of my interference that I was able to learn what I did about Isadora and hopefully, give her a chance at a full life someday, rather than wasting it away on Lord Abaline. I understood the baron was a great comfort to her while she was growing up, and although many well-bred young ladies settle down with husbands much older, I knew that if she was anything like her father, or even my sister, that she would not be content with him for long. He merely took the place of a grandfather figure, and since Marlington was busy wooinghis next bride, Isadora was pushed to the side. It was no wonder she thought she held romantic inclinations toward a man who was kind and showed her any sort of attention. I wish that I would have stepped in sooner to spare her the heartache that would come.
As it was, when I wrote to Abaline with the plea to deny her attentions, I realized it was too late. The damage had been done. The single way to reverse it at that point was to ensure they were separated permanently. I imagined, in time, that the fancy would pass, but she has long pined for him. I never saw such despair when she learned he’d remarried, nor the depth of her grief when he passed.
I hope, dear friend, that if Isadora is currently under your roof, that you might be a shining light. I fear dark days are ahead. I would have gone to her long since, but I am too much of a coward. I believed that if she learned I was responsible for the baron’s neglect that she would never forgive me. It has been better to wish for a relationship with my niece from afar, the last memory I have of my sister, than to have her hate me for the rest of eternity.
I have prayed all these years that I’ve done the right thing, and that she might find happiness at last, with a man worthy of her regard, because she would be a devoted and loyal companion. If her heart could be set free.
I hope this appeases your curiosity. I don’t know where this suddenly springs from, but I know you would have just cause to bring it up now, and I trust your judgement and discretion on the matter henceforth.
In kindness,
Lady Andrea Kontayne
Rem leanedback in his chair and stared at the words upon the page. He read it through again and again, until the script started to blur together.
He had heard of Baron Abaline, of course, and was quitefamiliar with his flirtatious widow, Sabine, who had been a former mistress to his now brother-in-law, Sebastian Ford, Viscount Blakely. The few times he had spied the lady in London in Isadora’s presence, he had noticed a certain coldness, but he imagined it was the same with any other lady that appeared to be a rival for a particular man’s affections. In that case, it had been Isadora looking out for her younger sister, Calliope. However, he realized that while that might have been part of the problem, the issue likely stemmed from Sabine’s marriage to the man that Isadora had long yearned for—Baron Abaline.
He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. He definitely had a lot to sort out when it came to Isadora. Mainly, he had to show her that while whatever she’d felt for the baron had been true and abiding, it wasn’t the same as the passion that she shared with him. It would still take time and patience, but she was worth the effort.
And at least he had one important factor on his side. She was his wife. And right now, that was all that mattered.
Rem got to his feet and headed for the stairs. It was time to consummate this union.
Isadora wasn’tsure if she should be lying in bed and waiting for Remington when he came back to the room, or if she should be sitting at the modest dressing table and offer some sort of seductive glance over her shoulder when he arrived.
She put a hand to her head and decided to continue pacing the room until her mind came up with the appropriate answer.
