Chapter 32

“Isabella!”

Her sister’s scream broke through the terror Isabella felt as the man wrestled her down the hall. There was more light here than there had been in the bedroom, and she could see that the man’s face was obscured by a mask. Still, she suspected that this was someone she wouldn’t have known even if she could see him. She could think of no one who would bear her this kind of ill will, who would try intentionally to harm her like this. Even her father, who had never been kind, wouldn’t have done anything like this—it was impossible to imagine him being this kind of cruel.

Felicity burst out of the bedroom. Isabella tried to scream to her sister to go back, not to get involved, but her captor still had a hand over her mouth, and she couldn’t make herself heard. But the thought of Felicity in danger made matters so much worse than they had been. Isabella was terrified for her own safety, but looking after her sister was more important to her than anything else in the world. If this man decided, for whatever reason, to release Isabella and claim Felicity instead—well, there could be nothing worse than that.

Felicity ran at the two of them. Isabella tried with all her might to scream for her sister to run, but it was hopeless. She couldn’t make herself heard.

And then Felicity launched herself at the man, striking and scratching like a feral cat, screaming for help. “Someone, come quick! The Duchess is being abducted!”

The man lashed out at Felicity and threw her to the floor. Felicity’s head struck the wall, and she lay there, unmoving.

Horror surged through Isabella, and she fought all the harder against her captor, desperate to reach her sister’s side. Why did no one come? Hadn’t anyone heard the commotion? This man was moving toward the front door which was probably the way that would lead him past the fewest people—most of the servants would be at the back of the house at this hour. Still, someone must have noticed that something was amiss!

If Arthur were here, this wouldn’t be happening. He would be in this part of the house. He would have noticed, and he would have put a stop to it. She was sure of that. Whatever Arthur’s feelings for her might or might not be, she knew that he would never permit her to be abducted. He would never allow her safety to be compromised. He might not love her as she loved him, but he was a good man.

She longed for him desperately.

As the man dragged her toward the steps that would lead them to the foyer, she struggled one last time to break free and run to her sister, who still hadn’t moved since falling to the floor. But then her captor dragged her around the corner and out of sight of Felicity.

Hope left her.

It was too late. She was going to be taken, and who knew what would happen to her sister?

And then she heard the sound of footsteps running toward her, and a voice called her name. “Isabella!”

She knew that voice. How well she knew that voice!

Arthur was there in a moment, wrestling the man off her and shoving him away. He caught Isabella and held her close, and Isabella watched in horror as the man stumbled and fell backward down the stairs. It was a fall that might have been fatal if he had landed differently, but he managed to fall into a sitting position. He rolled up onto his feet, assessed the situation for a brief moment, then turned and sprinted down the stairs and out the door.

Isabella burst into tears, her knees giving way beneath her.

“Are you hurt?” Arthur asked urgently, his hands moving all over her body. He had never touched her so freely, and though there was nothing romantic about it—he was checking her for injury, nothing more—she was still so comforted by the familiarity and safety of him that she collapsed into his embrace.

“I’m not hurt,” she said. “But Felicity—I think she is. In the hall outside my bedroom…”

“Go and see to Miss Felicity,” Arthur called, and Isabella saw that a handful of footmen had gathered, finally drawn by the commotion. “And you—send for a physician for both ladies.”

“I don’t need a physician,” Isabella objected. “I’m all right, truly.”

“I want you examined,” Arthur said firmly. “This isn’t a discussion.”

And it felt so good to be cared for, to know that it mattered to him what happened to her, that Isabella didn’t object any further even though she knew she was perfectly all right.

Arthur helped her along the hall. Instead of her bedroom, he brought her to his own. “What about Felicity?” she fretted.

“Felicity has been put in your bed.”

“I should be with her. I want to be with her.”

“I’ll take you to see her soon enough,” Arthur assured her. “Please, Isabella, let me take a moment with you to make sure you’re all right first.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” Isabella said.

“You’re crying.” He cupped her face in his hands and wiped away her tears with his thumbs.

“He frightened me,” Isabella whispered. “I thought he was going to take me away and that I would never see any of the people I care for again—and I had no idea who he was or what he wanted with me. I still don’t know the answers to those questions.”

“He didn’t say anything to you?”

“Nothing at all. Do you know who that man was?”

Arthur wrapped his arms around her. “This is all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault. How could it be your fault?”

“I should have been here,” he told her softly. “I should never have left you alone, Isabella. If I had stayed, if I had been a proper husband to you, no one would have come after you like this. I’ll never leave you alone again. I swear it. I’ll never put you in harm’s way like that again.”

Isabella didn’t know why he held himself so responsible for what had happened. Yes, he had left the house, but that wasn’t such a terrible thing to have done. It had been hard for her that he’d left her for such a long time, not intending to come back, but this could have taken place if he had left for an afternoon, and it was foolish to expect him to sit right by her side at all times. That didn’t make it his fault, and he was too wise to think that it would. And yet he seemed convinced that he was to blame for what had happened. Why would he think such a thing?

She couldn’t worry about that right now. There was simply too much else on her mind. “Do you promise that Felicity is being cared for?” she asked. “I’d really prefer to be with her.”

“You need to lie down, and so does she,” Arthur said gently. “I know you want to see her. Caroline is with her now, and I have some footmen watching her room as well, and we’ll go to her soon. I know you think you’re all right, but at the very least, I can see that you’re shocked and a bit dizzy. I want you to drink some water and try to relax, and we’ll go to her soon. All right?”

Isabella nodded. This thing she was feeling—it was trust, she realized suddenly. She had never allowed herself to put her trust in anyone before. Not in this way. She had always had her little sister as a confidante, but she hadn’t relied on anyone to protect her or care for her since her mother had died.

She hadn’t fully given anyone the power to break her heart.

Not even Arthur.

How could she blame him for having left—for never having opened himself up to her? She hadn’t opened herself up to him either though she’d told herself again and again that she was doing just that. She had expressed to him that she wanted more out of their relationship, but she had never gone up to him and simply said, I am in love with you.

She was ready to do it now, but the time was wrong. She didn’t want him to think that she was only saying it because she’d had a shock or because she didn’t want him to go away and leave her alone again. She wanted him to understand how true it was.

So, she would wait. But she kept a hold on his hand as he began to pull away from her, and he allowed that, keeping one arm around her, holding her close.

“You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?” he asked.

“I’m sure. He only dragged me away.”

“Did you get a look at his face?”

“No,” she said. “You saw that he was wearing that mask, so I couldn’t make out anything much about him.”

“I did see that, but I hoped,” he sighed. “You haven’t any idea as to his identity, then?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t have any enemies that I know of.”

“I’m sure that whoever he is, he was here because of me, not because of you,” Arthur said. There was a weight in his voice, as if he had never felt so terribly sad in all his life. “I’m sure he came after you because you’re my wife, not because of anything about you. I’m so sorry that you had to go through this ordeal, Isabella.”

“I wish you didn’t blame yourself,” she said softly. “Does it help you to know that I don’t blame you?”

“No, if anything I think that makes it worse,” he admitted. “I think you should blame me.”

“Are you going to tell me why you think that?”

“I suppose I’ve got to come clean,” he said. “There’s still a great deal you don’t know about me.”

She managed a laugh. “Well, that I did know.”

“You always manage to keep your spirits up,” he said. “It’s one of the things I admire most about you.”

“Not always,” she countered. “Not when you were gone. I’ve never been more down.”

He sighed. “I hate to hear that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s not what I mean. I want to know when you’re unhappy. I just hate that I was the cause of it. I’m going to do better by you, Isabella, I promise you that. Things are going to be different now. No one will ever harm you again. I’ll make sure of that.”

And he held her close to him, as if she was something precious—something he couldn’t bear to lose, something he didn’t want to see damaged in any way, and it occurred to Isabella that there was no way an embrace like this didn’t mean love.

Maybe he didn’t want her to be his wife in the way she wanted to be. She didn’t know. Maybe he wasn’t in love with her the way she was in love with him. But one thing was certain—Arthur treasured her. He knew that he had almost lost her tonight, and the idea tormented him. It hurt him as much as his departure to his other estate had hurt her, and if he hadn’t felt some sort of love for her, it wouldn’t have been possible for the loss of her to hurt him like that.

She didn’t like that he had been hurt. But she most certainly did like knowing, at last, that she mattered.

She allowed him to hold her close, resting her head on his shoulder, and let her eyes close. There was a great deal to talk about, but for now, it was more than enough to take comfort in his embrace.