30
My darling Sophie. I have a brother again. My heart overflows with joy.
—a hastily-scribbled note from Sir Rafe Gordon to Lady Gordon, left on her ladyship’s bedside table
Isolde opened her eyes to moonlight and a sense that something was not quite right.
Blinking, she rolled over, seeking Tristan’s warmth, only to realize what had awakened her.
Her husband sat on the opposite edge of the mattress with his back to her. The drapes were pulled wide and the window shutters opened, sending moonlight spilling into the room and casting him in a silvery outline.
Isolde pushed to sitting.
“Tristan?” she murmured.
“Yes.” He turned toward her, his face lost in shadow.
She rubbed her eyes andstretched.
“What time is it?”
“Half three.”
Isolde paused, frowning. “Why are ye up?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” A hesitation. “I had a long conversation with Rafe. We mended fences.”
“Oh, Tristan!” She extended a hand toward him. “I am so happy tae hear it. But why are ye over there? Come here.” She patted the counterpane beside her. “I want tae hold ye.”
“Isolde . . .” he began, her name more sigh than sound. Resigned and so weary.
Her heart kicked in her ribcage.
Something was wrong. But then, she had suspected as much.
“What is it, Tristan? I ken something has been eating at ye. Talk with me.” She extended a palm toward him once more.
Quietly, he took her hand in his, shifting more fully onto the bed. But he still didn’t come any closer.
“Now I be nervous, Husband,” she whispered. “Why do ye hesitate tae speak?”
The clock on the mantel ticked the seconds.
Finally, he cleared his throat, words coming haltingly. “It is difficult . . . to force myself to break . . . my own heart.”
“Tristan?”
“And . . . even more difficult . . . to knowingly hurt yours.”
Isolde’s breathing seized. She shuffled across the bed to him, but he flinched when she placed a hand on his chest.
Fear clamped her lungs in a vise.
“Tristan Gilbert, tell me immediately what has happened!”
“I’m trying,” he choked. “I just . . . I wanted to wait . . . wait until you loved me, and then maybe you could forgive—”
His voice broke on a gasp.
