Chapter 26

CHAPTER26

“The Duke of Sutterton to see Lady Paulbridge, please.” Henry’s voice was sharp and firm as he stood on the doorstep of the Marquess of Paulbridge’s house.

He’d ridden during the early hours of the morning through the pouring rain and now stood on the doorstep drenched. The water dripped off his frock coat and top hat in such rivulets that the Marquess’s butler stared at him in surprise.

“Yes, of course. Erm…” The butler shifted his weight between his feet, a little nervous. “Perhaps I could put you in the garden room, Your Grace? There is quite a puddle.” The butler gestured down towards the water dripping off Henry.

“The matter is urgent, so put me wherever you wish to.”

Henry walked into the house behind the butler, hardly caring if he left puddles in the fine house. After what Mary had done, the very least she deserved were a few streaks of water on her floorboards and grand carpets.

Henry was put in the garden room, where the floor was made of tiles and would be easier for the maids to clean later. He paced up and down between potted palm trees before his restlessness left him. Abruptly, he sat down in a wicker seat, feeling strangely still.

All night, he’d barely slept. He had thought much of what Isabella had said to him, and every time he had tried to sleep, he had seen her crying face. It had made him ache. When morning came, he had to speak to the person who had caused Isabella’s tears.

“Henry!” Mary’s voice was full of delight as she hurried into the room.

Closing the door behind her, she didn’t even ask for a maid or anyone to come and chaperone them.

“Is your husband away?” Henry asked in surprise, staring at the closed door.

“He is travelling.” Mary hurried towards him. When she got close to the wicker chair, he leapt to his feet and stepped around the nearest potted palm, determined not to let her come too near him. “I am so glad you have come to see me. You read my letter?” she asked with unrestrained excitement.

“I did. I burnt it.” Henry’s words made the smile slip from her face. “If what you had said to Bella yesterday was in a letter, then believe me, I would have burned that too.”

“What I said?” She offered an innocent look and shrugged her shoulders, clasping her hands together. “I was simply talking to her. As a friend.”

“What sort of friend reveals secrets in that manner?” Henry asked sharply. “Such a discussion should have been saved for Bella and me alone. You should have had no part in it. You only intended to do one thing by visiting her yesterday, and that was to cause her pain.”

“That is not quite what I intended—”

“Do you think I am that blind?” Henry’s firm tone startled her. She flinched and backed up a small step. “Do you think Bella is? She said you told her with practical glee! I don’t doubt you put on an act. You probably tried to act demure. Kind as well. There is no way such acting could hide your true motives, Mary. No chance of it. What purpose did it serve other than to hurt her?”

“You ask me that?” She lifted her chin high. “Come off it, Henry. How long have you and I known each other? How close have we always been?” She rounded the potted palm and came close to him. He escaped the other way, trying to keep his distance there. “You and I both know that what passed between us that night long ago was something special.”

“Special?” he repeated. He tried to escape her so far that he ended up knocking over one of the palms. The pot smashed when it hit the floor. “I’ll pay for that.”

“Henry, please, don’t change the subject.” She stepped over the fallen palm as Henry fled towards the door.

Perhaps coming here was a bad idea.

“You and I have a bond that can’t be ignored. I wished for Isabella to know that. To be put on her guard.”

“You wished to hurt her!”

“Henry, please.” Mary looked desperate as she reached towards him. He pushed open the door of the garden room and stepped into the corridor. “Just because we are married to other people does not mean we have to be separated from one another.”

“Is that what you intended?” Henry froze. His breathing was stuttering as he glared at her, feeling as if he understood Mary completely for the first time. “You hoped to drive me away from Bella so that I would be closer to you again.”

She said nothing but offered a smile she evidently thought was sweet and demure. He saw it for what it was—cold and calculating.

“You married the Marquess of Paulbridge, Mary, for I never wished to marry you. That discussion was had long ago.” At his words, her smile faltered. “Don’t think because I’ve married now I have any intention of having an affair with you.”

“Henry?” she called to him as he turned and hurried down the corridor, heading back in the direction of the front door. “Henry!” she shouted as she chased after him. “You can’t leave now. You can’t!”

“I intend to, and I’m not bothered to see you again.” He reached for the front door and flung it so wide that it bounced off the wall.

“Henry!” she practically screeched his name, bringing him to a stop on the front step. “You will come back to me, you will.”

Her words baffled him. He turned to stare at her, feeling as if he was seeing her for the first time—a woman crazed.

“You will,” she muttered, much quieter this time.

“I was never yours.” He shook his head in puzzlement. “Whatever dream you have been having, Mary, some fantasy of an affair between us, forget it. It will only ever be in your imagination.”

Turning, he left as quickly as he could, returning to his horse.

As he rode away, he caught sight of Mary standing in the doorway, staring after him.

She looked immovable, like some marble statue.

* * *

“Can we not be as we were before?” Henry asked Isabella.

The Duchess struggled to reply at first. Clinging tightly to his arm, she walked into the ballroom. There was comfort in being so close to him, but there was also a strange distance. Every time Isabella looked into his eyes, she was reminded of their conversation in his study, and it stung deeply.

That evening, she had been in no mood to come to the ball, but she knew she’d had no choice. They had agreed to come, and her sisters were going to be there too. She hoped their company could give her some excuse to smile.

“Bella?” Henry whispered as he led her around the edge of the ballroom.

“I don’t know, I just don’t know,” she said quietly, continuing to hold onto him. “I wish to be, but this is hard to deal with, Henry.” She looked up, seeing his face appear as pained as her own. “I need time to deal with all that you have told me.”

“That I understand.” His voice was deep and soft. “At least, promise you will not shut me out in the meantime. Deal with this by talking to me, so we can be open with one another.”

She nodded, though she was confused about what he meant. What more was for them to discuss? He had no wish to be a father. That was it! There was no more to say.

“I think I need a drink,” Isabella murmured, finding the temptation of claret quite strong at that moment.

“I shall fetch it for you.” Henry released her arm. “Do you wish to find your sisters?”

“Later. I shall stay here.”

Isabella chose a corner of the ballroom. It was a chance to watch others from a distance, without having to approach any of them or make forced conversation. Henry nodded and promised to return soon before he hurried towards the drinks table on the other side of the room.

Isabella watched from a distance. Henry was caught up by Lord Hillson approaching him for conversation. Lady Hampton also grew near to him. The sight of the woman had Isabella’s stomach knotting tight, but it didn’t last. To Isabella’s amazement, Henry held up a hand. His palm was turned towards Lady Hampton, warning her not to come any closer. The widow left quickly, showing no further intention to talk to him.

He is loyal.

The realization had Isabella leaning against a pillar beside her, stunned at the change in him.

He told me the truth when he spoke of Lady Hampton.

Isabella was beginning to think that maybe she and Henry could be happy again. She would never have the child she wanted, but she could be a doting aunt when her sisters had children. What was more, she longed for the happiness that had been between the two of them to return.

“Maybe we can make it work,” Isabella whispered to herself, thinking of what she would say to him when he returned to her side.

She stepped off the pillar as someone appeared before her.

The sight of Mary’s face had Isabella stumbling back. Mary had dressed so grandly that her position was instantly noticeable as a marchioness. She wore a bold gold gown with so much jewelry that she glittered in the candlelight.

“Your Grace.” Mary barely bobbed a curtsy and didn’t smile. All the pretense she made to be a friend to Isabella the other day had vanished.

“Lady Paulbridge.” Isabella kept to her politeness and curtsied properly. “I did not imagine you would wish to speak to me this evening. Have you not achieved all you wished to by speaking to me as of late?”

“There is something more I wished to say to you.” Mary glanced over her shoulder, looking in Henry’s direction across the room, before she stepped towards Isabella and lowered her voice. “You have poisoned his mind against me.”

“If he dislikes you, that is your own doing, not mine.”

Isabella took a step away, intending to escape, but Mary reached up and took her arm. It was a surprisingly vice-like grip for one so slight. Isabella looked down at where the Marchioness was gripping her arm, imagining she was like some sort of slim kestrel. Elegant yet fierce when it wished to be.

“You have poisoned him against me,” Mary said again, clinging to the lie in her desperation. “I cannot have it. He will come back to me. Henry always comes back to me, no matter how many ladies he seduces.”

Isabella snatched her arm away from Mary’s grasp.

“In case you had not noticed, I am not just another lady. I am his wife,” Isabella reminded her sharply.

Mary’s nose wrinkled in distaste, then she lifted her chin higher.

“I see I am not making myself clear,” Mary spoke in a rush. “You are to end your closeness with Henry, bring the relationship to an end.”

“We are married!” Isabella hissed.

“Many couples keep a distance under the same roof, as so shall you be,” Mary said with delight, stepping forwards once again. “End your bond with him. Isolate him. Make him lonely.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Isabella shook her head in bafflement, wondering if this woman was so delusional that she imagined Isabella jumping to her tune.

“Because of what I can do.” Mary nodded her head across the ballroom. Isabella followed Mary’s gaze, only to find her staring at Irene and Jeremiah, who were dancing together. “I see your sister has been as indiscreet as you were.”

“I beg your pardon?” Isabella snapped her head towards Mary, hearing the insult plainly.

Mary continued to smirk, taking pleasure in the Duchess’s discomfort.

“I caught your sister and Lord Burton in a corner together, earlier this evening. Oh, they did not see me there. No, they were far too caught up in one another.” She pretended horror, holding a hand over her mouth. “Imagine that. Another of the Earl of Sinclair’s daughters behaving in such an unladylike manner. They were kissing, Your Grace. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Isabella swallowed. Despite the simple action, it could spell great danger. Looking at Irene, she noticed the way Irene and Jeremiah smiled as they circled around one another in their dance. There was such tension between the two of them that it was easy to believe they might have misbehaved a little.

Oh, Irene, what have you done?

“What do you wish for by telling me this?” Isabella hissed, returning her focus on Mary.

“I can tell others what I saw here tonight,” Mary threatened. “I can reveal their actions, and I can say much more happened too. You’ll find I have quite an active imagination in that regard.”

“Cruel. That is cruelty itself,” Isabella snapped. “My sister has done nothing to you, but you would seek to destroy her so? It is brutal!”

“It can be stopped.” Mary said simply before her smile grew again. “All you have to do is agree to leave Henry.”

“I cannot leave the house,” Isabella muttered. “It would cause a scandal.”

“Then, stay in the house but distance yourself from him,” Mary said with a shrug as if she was talking of no great matter at all. “Distance yourself, completely. Or I will reveal everything that I saw and more to do with your sister and Lord Burton.” She waited with her lips parted, clearly in anticipation of Isabella’s reply.

Isabella held her breath, uncertain of what to say. Her gaze sought out Henry across the room. He was talking to Lord Hillson as he poured a glass of claret for her. The small smile that appeared on his features made her heart hurt. She wanted that happiness between them back, but that was now impossible, wasn’t it?

She turned to look across the ballroom. Irene and Jeremiah were stepping off the dance floor hand in hand. Their proximity to one another showed Isabella that any rumors about them would be believed, at once. Mary could invent any rumors she wished, and the ton would not doubt it.

I cannot see Irene ruined. It would break her heart and damage Susan’s chance of finding a good match too.

“I cannot believe I am about to say this,” Isabella whispered as she turned to Mary, who was already smiling in triumph, knowing she had won. “I agree to your terms.”