Once a Duchess(74)

 

“Why are you afraid?” He blurted the question before the thought even finished coagulating in his mind.

 

Isabelle’s eyes flew to his face. She took a step back and wrapped her arms around herself.

 

“It isn’t society, is it? Not the gossip or the unkind remarks.” As he spoke, something clarified. “It’s me. You’re afraid of me.” His eyelids slid closed as the bitter truth fell over him like a pall. “Why?” When he opened his eyes again, Isabelle was covering her mouth with her hand. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Tell me,” he pressed.

 

“All right!” Her arms jerked downward and her hands balled into fists at her sides. She quivered like a leaf in the breeze.

 

He wanted to put his arms around her again and soothe her worries, but he couldn’t with a table full of peas between them. A few strides and he was around the table. She stepped backwards.

 

“Don’t,” She stopped and raised her hands in front of her, palms out, holding him at bay with her defiant stance. “I’m afraid,” she said, “because I … ” she clamped her mouth closed. The cords in her neck stood out as she choked on words unuttered.

 

She seemed on the verge of panic. Marshall was baffled by her behavior. “Because … ” he said, gesturing with a hand.

 

“Because I loved you!” she cried. She whirled away.

 

Her words struck him as odd. “Because you love — loved — me?” He quirked a brow and started toward her again. “You don’t anymore?”

 

“Yes,” she said. “I mean, no, I don’t. That is … Damn!” She bit down on a fist.

 

He closed the distance between them and gently pried her hand away from her mouth. Isabelle’s eyes shone with incipient tears.

 

“I loved you when we were married,” she said in a quiet, dignified tone. “The divorce was humiliating, Marshall. You made a pariah of me. But more than that — worse than that — you broke my heart.”

 

A fresh pang of remorse shot through his gut.

 

She raised her chin and smiled weakly. “I stayed in town for two years afterward, hoping you’d come back, even though I was shunned by your peers. I loved you even then, after being hurt so badly. God knows, I still can’t stay away from you. But I’m afraid, Marshall, afraid you’ll do it again.”

 

His heart began a funny, lopsided beat. “Divorce you? My dear, I should be laughed out of the House of Lords if I so much as breathed the idea.”

 

She shook her head and whispered, “Your apology was truly magnanimous, but I’m afraid you’ll break my heart again. You didn’t love me when we were married. You don’t love me now. And there are many ways for a husband to leave his wife.”

 

Of course I love you.

 

The words formed in his mouth, and only a tightening of his lips kept him from uttering them. The jolt he felt was similar to when he suddenly understood a botanical concept. It burned in his mind, bright and true.

 

Well, damnation. He was in love.

 

Marshall blinked and looked down at her through new eyes. She was his Isabelle, and he loved her. He loved her! He snatched her to him in a fierce hug.

 

She had to know. He needed to tell her. How best to do so? His mind started to churn.

 

He dropped kisses on her hair. Cupping her cheeks, he turned her face up. He rained more kisses across her forehead, and the lids that covered those intoxicating emerald eyes. “Darling,” he murmured. “My sweet girl, don’t be afraid. Look at me, Isa.”

 

Her eyelids fluttered open. A speck of hope seemed to shine in those green depths.

 

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice tender as a caress. “But you never have to worry about my leaving you ever again. I couldn’t, sweetheart. You see — ”

 

“Your Grace,” called a voice.

 

Marshall startled. Isabelle jerked out of his arms as they turned to the intruder.

 

It was one of his footmen, his face ashen.

 

A growing unease stole over Marshall. “What is it?” he asked.

 

“It’s Lady Naomi,” the footman said. “She’s been kidnapped.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

Isabelle had never seen a house erupt into pandemonium such as what she witnessed in the hour following the discovery of Naomi’s abduction.

 

Isabelle observed how Marshall, however, took the time to speak to and calm each man or woman in his employ. In turn, the servants responded favorably to their master. The worry lines eased on the housekeeper’s face as Marshall spoke to her in even, reassuring tones.