Chapter 27

CHAPTER27

“Something’s not right.”

“What do you mean?” John caught Henry’s shoulder. “And would you stop pacing? You’ll wear my carpet out.” He pushed Henry down into the nearest chair. “Now, explain yourself properly. I’d offer you a coffee, but you’re so worked up, I’ll offer you tea instead.”

Henry could not sit still. His knee bobbed up and down, and he repeatedly thrust a hand into his hair, pulling at the strands. The maid came and went, delivering tea, and John passed Henry a cup before sitting opposite him.

“Tell me properly what is afoot.”

“I don’t know. I wish I did.” Henry lifted the cup to his lips too soon and burnt his tongue, for he was so distracted. “The last few days, Bella has been avoiding me. Under our own roof, she’s avoiding me. I don’t think it’s to do with our argument either. She was talking to me after that. She said she needed time, that was all.”

“Is that what she is doing? Taking time to consider your position on children?” John asked with much more calmness than Henry felt.

“I don’t think so.” Henry was sharper in tone, frantic. He sat back then sat forwards, again, nearly dropping his teacup.

“Try not to spill your tea,” John warned and sat forwards. “So, if you don’t think that is what is on her mind, what is?”

“I don’t know.”

Henry looked down into his teacup, thinking of all that had happened. Isabella hadn’t even joined him for dinner the last few days. Whenever he saw her, she would mutter something and run away. He had chased her once through the house, before coming in front of her closed chamber door, and she’d refused to let him in. He’d begged her to open the door, to explain what was wrong, but she just said she couldn’t explain it, and then fell silent.

“I think something else is amiss.”

“Then be patient, talk to her when you can,” John suggested. “In time, I’m sure she’ll come round. Lover’s quarrels are swift to mend, according to my mother.” He rolled his eyes as if he’d heard it all before. “Thankfully, so far I’m discovering she is right.”

“How are you and your wife?” Henry asked, trying to change the topic. “You seem happy.” John’s smile abruptly grew in answer. “Very happy… what has happened?”

John pressed a finger to his lips and moved to his feet. He hurried to the door and closed it, then returned to his seat.

“We have not told anyone yet, but I have to tell someone, or it will just burst right out of me.” He placed his teacup down on the tray between them. “I’m going to be a father.”

“What?” Henry stiffened in his seat, unsure if he’d heard his friend correctly. “John… you are to have a child?”

“I am.” John abruptly laughed. “Isn’t it mad? To think I will be a father. I can’t believe it.” He moved to his feet, so excited he could not sit still.

Henry followed him, then shook his hand warmly.

“I could not be happier for you, John. I’m truly thrilled.”

“Thank you, my friend.” John laughed again. “I cannot believe it. To think there will be a baby soon in this house. I have never known this feeling before, this excitement!” In emphasis, he jumped up and down once, and Henry laughed at his reaction.

“You are as giddy as a child yourself.”

“I am.” John laughed and returned to his seat, sitting back heavily. “I don’t even know how to be a father.”

“You’ll learn.” Henry clapped him on the shoulder in comfort and returned to his own seat. “We should be drinking champagne not tea.” He laughed and raised his teacup, in a toast to his friend. “To you, your wife, and child, John. I’m delighted for you.”

“Thank you, Henry.”

They chinked teacups and smiled broadly.

As John talked of his wife’s condition and how she was suffering from a little morning sickness, Henry found his mind wandering. The last few days, he had been considering what it would be like to abandon his vow and have a child. He’d pictured Isabella as a mother, and that image now came through stronger than ever before.

He thought of Isabella standing with a baby in her arms. The baby would have her eyes and his strong features. It was a beautiful image and one that made Henry’s heart pound stronger than he had expected it to.

The thought of a child makes me happy. When did that happen?

Henry found he couldn’t stay long after that. So caught up with needing to talk to Isabella, he congratulated John another time and returned home.

When he arrived, he jumped down from the carriage, only to find Isabella in the courtyard, mounting the horse he had bought for her.

“Bella?” he called to her, desperate for her not to run away this time. She flicked her head round at his calling her name, then tugged the reins, urging the horse into action. “Bella!” Henry ran down the driveway as she rode away. “Will you not talk to me?”

He hardly cared if the footmen and stable boys were standing at the side of the driveway, wondering what was going on. All he wished for was for Isabella to talk to him.

She didn’t come back. She was gone all too quickly, with the horse’s hooves kicking up mud behind her.

Standing still in the middle of the driveway, Henry’s breath heaved up and down as he stared after her.

I miss you, Bella.

He wanted nothing more than her company again and a chance to see her smile.

“Your Grace?” Hawkins approached his side. The butler had evidently seen something of what had happened from the house. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Your kindness knows no bounds, Hawkins.” Henry offered his good butler a smile, but it was one that he couldn’t hold for long. “Thank you, but no.”

“Shall I order the carriage away?”

“No. There is somewhere else I think I’ll go first.”

* * *

The Earl of Sinclair’s house was unwelcoming to Henry. The Earl glared at him through the window as he walked up the front steps, and when Henry told the butler he was there to see Irene and Susan, he could hear the Earl shouting in the sitting room, evidently angered that the Duke had not come to see him.

Henry was shown into the garden where Irene and Susan sat together. They had evidently been playing battledore, for the rackets were down by their sides.

“Your Grace!” Irene jumped to her feet at his arrival, hurrying to curtsy. Susan followed behind her.

“Please, call me Henry,” he said. “I must speak to the two of you, it’s about Isabella.”

“Ah, then you should listen to what the two of us are already saying.” Irene grimaced.

“Quite changed all of a sudden, isn’t she?” Susan picked up one of the rackets and the shuttlecocks, then hit it away across the garden. The sharpness with which she struck it spoke loudly of her anger. “She won’t see us.”

“She won’t?” Henry asked in surprise, taking the garden seat that Irene had indicated. “I don’t understand. She seems to have cut herself off from us all.”

“From you too?” Irene’s brows furrowed. “Something is wrong indeed. The other night at the ball, she left barely having said a word to either of us.”

“I don’t understand it,” Susan added as she struck another shuttlecock.

“Dear, we’ll have to get them all back at some point,” Irene pointed out.

“It helps.” Susan struck the third and final one they had away.

Sighing deeply, Henry hung his head in his hands.

“I prayed she had said something to the two of you. Something is clearly wrong, but she won’t tell me what it is,” Henry said slowly, then raised his head. “I don’t know how to mend things when I don’t know what upsets her so.”

“I wish I could help.” Irene reached towards him and patted his hand that rested on his knee comfortingly. “Isabella has sometimes been like this in the past though.”

“What do you mean?” Henry asked.

Irene sat back and exchanged a look with her sister.

“Isabella practically raised us,” Irene began slowly. “She was our mother when we had none. I may not have always noticed it, but these last few years, I saw repeatedly how when things upset her, she felt she had no one to share it with. Wishing to protect us, she withdrew into herself and dealt with it alone.”

“Like the time our father wished to sell our mother’s jewelry,” Susan added with an angry huff. “She was very quiet for a few weeks after that.”

“She keeps her troubles to herself,” Irene explained. “She does not share them easily.”

“That is what I fear.” Henry sat back in his seat, feeling his sadness grow. “How do I get her to share the truth with me?”

“I wish I knew, Henry. Perhaps there is something I could try to do for you,” Irene offered, then sat forwards.

Henry was nodding even before she’d made her suggestion.

* * *

Isabella walked around the kitchen garden. Repeatedly, she laid her fingers on the herbs and trailed them through the fragrant leaves, then raised them to her nose. The walk and the scents helped to distract her from her thoughts.

She’d discovered in the last few days that the kitchen garden was a good place to hide from Henry. Not once had he thought to look for her there.

I miss him.

Isabella had to remind herself why she was pulling back from him. It didn’t matter if she had forgiven him for not telling her the truth about not wanting a child when they first married, none of that seemed important now. All that was important was protecting Irene.

“I have to keep her safe,” Isabella muttered.

“Who?” The question had Isabella stumbling. “Don’t fall!”

Yet, Isabella tripped on the corner plot of herbs and ended up falling into the rosemary bushes. They were twiggy and poked through the skirt of her gown, scratching her legs.

“Ow,” Isabella yelped as she looked up to see her sister. It was as if Irene had been summoned by her thoughts.

“Always clumsy.” Irene laughed good-naturedly and walked towards her, offering her hand. “Let me help you up.”

Isabella gladly took her sister’s hand and pulled herself to her feet. She had to release the skirt of her gown from the rosemary bushes with a few tugs.

“You found me,” Isabella murmured.

“Well, I knew where you liked to hide back home.” Irene didn’t release her hand. Instead, she linked their arms together. “A little bird tells me you’re running away and hiding in this house too now.”

“Perhaps.” Isabella didn’t elaborate.

“If you are to walk so restlessly with your own thoughts, then I will at least keep you company as you do so.”

Irene pulled her forwards, and they walked together around the kitchen garden, arm in arm. They said nothing for a minute. Isabella merely trailed her fingers through the herb bushes, and Irene tipped her chin high, admiring the blue sky.

“We shall have to talk eventually, you know.”

“About what?” Isabella shrugged as if nothing concerned her.

“How about the fact you are avoiding your husband?” At Irene’s question, Isabella tried to retract her hand, but Irene wouldn’t let her and tightened her grip. “Or that you are being distant with me and Susan too? I know you like to deal with problems on your own, but, Isabella, I am no child anymore.”

She brought the two of them to a stop on the path, earning her Isabella’s gaze.

“No, you’re not,” Isabella sighed in realization. Where she had tried to protect Irene from the troubles of the world for so long, she could see it wasn’t something that was always attainable. Irene was no longer a young girl. “I like to protect you.”

“I don’t need it,” Irene said strongly, shaking her head. “Especially when you are merely trying to protect me from what is going on in here.” She reached forwards and tapped Isabella’s temple. “Maybe you cannot talk to your husband about whatever is troubling you, but please, Sister, tell me.”

“I…” When Isabella faltered, Irene huffed dramatically and lifted the hem of her gown. “What are you doing, Irene?”

“Getting your attention.” Irene dropped to her knees on the garden path and clasped her hands together. “If I beg you to tell me, would you do it?”

“You’ll get your gown dirty. Come here.” Isabella took hold of her sister’s hand and pulled her to her feet.

“I thought that would get a single smile from you, but it seemed I was wrong. Come on, tell me the truth.” Irene tugged on their hands. “What worries you?”

“I…” Isabella breathed deeply before the words escaped her. Irene was right, they could share their woes completely now they were both grown-ups. There was something about sharing the truth with Irene that gave Isabella comfort. At least then someone would understand her. “Lady Paulbridge saw you and Lord Burton.”

“I’m sorry?” Irene frowned in confusion.

“She saw you kissing.” Isabella’s words made her sister’s jaw drop.

Irene blushed deep red. “I can explain, we were just—”

“I hardly need an explanation for that.” Isabella waved her hand dismissively. “Caught up in affection is something I understand. What I don’t understand is Lady Paulbridge’s need to cause division.” She sighed and hung her head. “She made me a simple threat. She was prepared to tell the ton not only what she saw of the two of you, but to invent that something greater had happened. She is prepared to spread rumors about you.”

“God’s wounds,” Irene mumbled quietly. She mimicked Isabella’s position and hung her head too. “That is vicious indeed.”

“It is!”

“What is her aim? For what purpose would she seek to do this?”

“She promised not to spread rumors if I agreed to distance myself from Henry.” Isabella looked up and met her sister’s gaze. “I didn’t want to do it, but what choice did I have? I won’t see you hurt, Irene. Not for anything.”

“You have put me first? Good Lord! Why?”

“You are my sister, you fool,” Isabella reprimanded her and tapped her on the shoulder. “I’d protect you with my dying breath, so what else was I supposed to do? I agreed to distance myself from Henry, and she promised to keep what she had seen a secret.”

“Henry should know,” Irene said with sudden fervor. “Your husband should know this.”

“No. That was also part of her vow. If I told Henry, she would speak of what she had seen. Don’t you see, Irene? I can’t tell Henry. Now I will swear you to secrecy too. Please, please, do not tell him.”