Chapter 14

CHAPTER14

Andrew had been shouting for so long that a tea tray had been brought up and Isabella had finished one cup already. She let him shout, for there was nothing he could do to change her mind. He ranted, raved, paced up and down, even knocked her cup from her hand when she was finished with it. Fortunately, it didn’t break because it fell on the rococo settee. She returned it to its saucer on the tray before she stood, showing she was unmoved.

“Do I have your word, Father? Or do I need to arrange a conversation with a magistrate?” Her question knocked the wind out of Andrew at last.

He stood a short distance from her, his breathing heavy as he glared. She rather imagined he’d morphed into a bull with his nostrils flaring in anger.

Just over his shoulder, Isabella caught sight of the fact that the door had been opened somewhere during their exchange. Both Irene and Susan had popped their heads through the gap and were listening intently. Judging by their red eyes and the screwed-up handkerchief Susan held against the door, both of them had been crying.

“Father?” Isabella flicked her eyes back to her father, not wanting him to see they were there. “Do I have your agreement?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. It was sharp, short and sudden. Turning his back on her, Lord Sinclair ran his fingers through his hair and pulled on the tendrils, walking all the way to the window. Isabella used the opportunity to wave at her sisters, encouraging them to hide behind the door. Irene went first, and judging by the sharp retreat of Susan, Irene must have tugged on her skirt to remove her too.

Andrew turned to face Isabella one last time.

“You have made an error here today, Isabella. You have driven this family apart.”

She stared, her lips parted, stunned at the audacity of his statement.

“You think that? Well, perhaps you should have been a better father, Andrew. You were so loving, weren’t you?” she asked with sarcasm. “You loved your daughters, cared for them when they had bad nightmares or were scared of the world, didn’t you? Oh no, that’s right, you didn’t. You would rather keep your courtesans company and gamble away any money you had to prepare for your daughters’ future. Don’t ask for love now, Father, when you offered none yourself.”

Andrew fell down into the nearest chair, dropping his face in his hands. Sensing victory, Isabella left the room and closed the door behind her. Walking straight into her sisters, she barely managed to stop herself from yelping at the collision.

Irene took her hand and dragged her all the way to the garden, with Susan following behind. The moment they were out in the safety of the garden, far away from where Andrew would be able to hear them, both Irene and Susan embraced her tightly.

“I cannot believe you did it,” Susan muttered in amazement. “You threatened him!”

“What else was there to do?” Isabella asked with a laugh. “I wasn’t going to stand by and watch him make your lives a misery.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.” Irene clung to her neck.

“Irene, need to breathe!” Isabella strained against her sister’s hold.

“My turn.” Susan knocked Irene out of the way and was the next to cling to Isabella’s neck.

“Still can’t breathe!” Isabella’s complaint had both sisters laughing and stepping back.

“I can’t believe you fixed it,” Irene said repeatedly, shaking her head. “Do you think Father will keep to the agreement?”

“He may waver, yet if he does, I will remind him of debtors’ prison. That should keep his intentions at bay. You’re both safe.”

Isabella knew her father well enough that he would do anything to avoid that. She’d once heard the housekeeper’s suspicion that he’d stolen from one of the maids, just to repay his debtors a few coins. He would risk anything to avoid losing everything completely.

Susan clung to her hand and Irene held onto her arm, bobbing up and down.

“We are safe indeed,” Irene murmured.

“Now you can tell that gentleman caller of yours that all is well,” Isabella said with mischief, watching as Irene blushed.

“We’ll see.”

They all laughed together.

“How about you?” Susan asked. “How are you and your husband?”

“What do you mean?” Isabella flinched, uncertain how to handle the words.

“I’m all too aware of what has just happened,” Susan murmured. “You have saved us from forced marriages, but is that not what you have yourself?”

“Well…” Isabella offered a strained smile. “We can’t all be so fortunate. Henry has kindness in him as well. He’s not so wholly unlikeable.”

“I’d think you would say that after you fell on top of him in a garden,” Irene said playfully.

“When did you get so audacious?” Isabella pretended to be outraged at her sister.

They spent next few minutes teasing one another, and Isabella tried to find out more about Irene’s suitor, though she discovered little. It was plain Irene was keeping things a secret as much as she could for now. Eventually, Isabella said goodbye. She took the carriage, and her sisters waved her off in the driveway. Through the window, she caught sight of her father who watched her leave too, though he did not bother to wave or smile at her.

Our relationship is damaged forever now, but it had to be. It had to be to save Susan and Irene.

Isabella did not regret it. As the carriage took her home, she continued to smile to herself, so delighted and proud of what she had done, that she had the desire to tell a certain someone about it.

Henry.

The moment she arrived home, she planned on telling him the good news. He had been clearly concerned about her sisters’ predicament. That morning over breakfast, he had actually joined her in the dining room. They’d sat together, and he had nudged her many times, trying to discover what she had planned to do about her father.

“You will let me know, won’t you?” had been his final words before she had left.

He cares. Of that, I’m certain.

The image of a caring Henry didn’t quite add up to the rumors she’d heard of him being a rake. It didn’t even match the man she had seen in that garden, half undressed and clearly spending elicit minutes in a tryst.

God’s wounds, who is he really!?

When she reached the house, she thanked the driver and hurried inside. Hawkins opened the front door with his usual kindly smile and bowed.

“Good day, Your Grace.”

“Good day, Hawkins. Do you know where my husband is?”

“Yes. His Grace is in his chamber. I believe he has just returned from a ride.”

“Ah, thank you.”

Isabella hesitated. It was only natural for Hawkins not to think there was anything worrisome in pointing a wife towards her husband’s chamber.

He thinks I have been in there before.

Swallowing past her nerves, Isabella headed for the stairs. She wanted to see Henry, and she was not going to be cowed by the fact he was in such an intimate space as his chamber. Rushing through the house, she stopped at his door and knocked speedily.

“Well, that’s a hurried knock,” he called from inside.

“It is I,” she called back.

“You can come in.”

She opened the door.

“I just want to—Oh heavens!” She came to a sudden stop, her heels driving into the floor just as the door closed behind her.

“Heavens?” Henry faced her with a pleased smile. “Now, I can’t remember ever having that reaction before.”

He was not fully dressed. He was wearing his trousers and his hessian boots, but his shirt was missing. In front of him on the bed, a clean shirt was laid out for him, but he hadn’t yet put it on.

Isabella’s mouth turned dry. She parted her lips to say something, yet no words escaped her. With anxious movements of her eyes, she looked at him, taking in everything.

From this position, the broadness of his shoulders compared to her own was plain to see. There was a litheness to the muscles in his chest, showing how he kept himself fit. His arms were toned, where hers were willowy, and his stomach muscles dipped into a v shape beneath his trousers. When her eyes lingered on that area, a chuckle escaped his lips.

“Distracted, are you, Bella?”

“No.” Realizing she was ogling him so openly, she turned on her heel, quickly making a circle before she looked at him again. “You didn’t have to say I could come in!”

“You saw me nearly without my shirt on before, may I remind you?” he said with that same mischievous smile still in place. He picked up the shirt, as if ready to pull it over his head, but he did not busy himself with the task. “Besides, you were the one impatiently knocking on my door.”

“I… erm… that was because…” Isabella couldn’t help it. She rather imagined she had no control over herself anymore. She was too busy staring at him, thinking of his chest, which was on display.

No, do not let your imagination go wandering!

Yet, it did, regardless. She thought of herself sitting on the edge of the bed, where his clothes were now, with her fingers running over his exposed chest. Would he tip his head back and indulge in her touch? Would he bend forwards and kiss her?

“Bella?” he called.

“Hmm?” She looked up again.

“You wanted to tell me something, didn’t you?” he asked and dropped the shirt on the bed.

“Yes, I…”

When he moved away from the bed, she mirrored his actions but stepped back. He continued to walk forwards until her back pressed against the wall, then he stopped in front of her, with one of his hands planted on the wall beside her waist.

“I…” She tried again. Her eyes shot downwards to look at him before she closed them firmly.

“Ha! Well, I’ve never quite had this effect on someone.”

“Oh, do you think saying things like that helps?” she scoffed, opening her eyes again. “That simply reminds me of what a rake you are.”

“Really? Quite different from my thoughts. Because I was just thinking that I am a married man, half undressed, and my bride has walked into my chamber.”

“Do not tease me now,” she pleaded.

“Why not?”

He moved an inch towards her. One of his boots moved to stand beside her own, with his legs brushing the side of her skirt. He came so near to her that she couldn’t think straight. He’d addled her mind the same way that liquor could, making her think up was down.

“I came to talk of something serious,” she murmured, her breathing making her chest flutter restlessly. He must have noticed, for his gaze shot down to her chest. “Henry!” She flicked her hands in front of his face, making him look her in the eye again. “You and I talked about this before. You said you would not bed me. You made that a vow. If you really meant it, what is all this teasing about? What is this about?”

She gestured towards his chest. When her fingers accidentally brushed against his skin, she snapped her hand away.

“Ah,” he sighed with a smile on his face. “Call me weak, Bella. I made a promise to you, but if you asked me kindly, I might just be willing to break it.”

“Break it?” she repeated.

Images filled Isabella’s mind of her pushing him back on his bed and begging him to show her what truly could happen between them. She was still curious to know what he’d meant that time he’d whispered to her about a man being there just to pleasure a woman alone…

“If you asked me, I might break the promise.” He moved towards her. “Is that what you wish for, Bella?”

She was breathless, her lips parting, ready to give in to him. It would be so easy to say yes, to see what he meant by such taunts. When she said nothing at all, merely remaining silent, he moved even closer to her.

“Bella?”

The way he whispered her name made a shiver run up her spine. Her hands flattened against the wall behind her, but she made no movement to get away or escape. Why would she, when being trapped between him and a wall felt this exciting?

He moved his lips to her cheek. It wasn’t quite a kiss, merely a taste of what could be, then he inched his lips downwards and found the curve of her neck. She gasped at the briefest of touches he left there, reminding her of the near kisses he’d given her that first night outside of her chamber.

Just one kiss. Oh, to know what that could be like!

“You are not pushing me away,” he observed quietly, moving his lips further down her neck.

When he found a sweet spot on her collarbone, he pressed his lips more firmly against her skin, giving her the first proper kiss she’d ever known. Her toes curled in her shoes at the sensation. It was a thrill, and it somehow seemed to reach deep down her body, right into her core, even though he’d only touched her neck.

“Do you wish me to stop?” he whispered, kissing her on the collarbone again. This time, he parted his lips to playfully nip her too.

She scarcely managed to hold back a sound of pleasure and bit the inside of her cheek, stopping that sound from escaping.

“Bella?”

He was taunting her as he raised his lips back up across her neck. His touch was feather-light before it reached her cheek and then her lips.

Isabella could so easily close the distance between them and kiss him. It was clear what he was waiting for, for her to make that move.

“Your Grace?” a voice abruptly came behind the closed door.

Henry’s hands flattened against the wall behind Isabella with a thud as he jerked his head back.

So close…