“Miss Fairchild is every bit as lovely and pleasant as she is beautiful. It may sting to have thought you would have her and then lost her, but you must surely know she was always too good for you. Nurse your wounds, and then move on, before you get yourself into trouble.”
Crowley’s face turned red, and he started spluttering a response, but Thaddeus wasn’t in the mood to hear it. He kicked his horse into a canter and left Crowley coughing in the dust kicked up by his horse’s hooves.
And this time he did lose himself in the movement of the horse, letting the wind rush past him, soothing his burning temper.
He didn’t slow down again until he was far away from Crowley, realizing regretfully that he’d gone the opposite direction from Hartington and added a good half hour to his ride home.
Perhaps it was for the best, though, as long after the horse slowed, his own heartbeat continued to race. He struggled to pull himself together and calm the anger simmering in his veins.
He mentally chided himself at letting Crowley get to him. He was usually better at controlling himself and his emotions. But somehow that barb directed at Isolde had stung as though it had been aimed at him.
He urged the horse into a gallop, giving him free rein to run and willing himself to get lost in the movement as well. By the time they neared Hartington, both he and the horse were breathing hard.
He slowed them down as they approached, and a bit of movement in the drawing room window caught his eye. Isolde was settling into the window seat, gazing out in the distance.
She was looking away from him, her expression relaxed. Without meaning to, he pulled the horse to a stop, lingering to watch her. She looked beautiful, the windowpane framing her like a picture, but more than that, she looked content. Happy.
He felt a sudden urge to make sure that she looked that way every day.
Beneath him, his horse shifted, anxious to get on to the stable where oats and a good brush down awaited.
“Patience, patience,” he said gently, but gave up his view and guided his mount away from the house. He stole one last lookback at Isolde, and he swore to himself that, however impossible it seemed, he would find a man good enough for her.
Chapter 5
Isolde woke with the sun on her face, confused by its warmth and how her bed sheets felt strange to the touch. Then she remembered – she wasn’t at home. She was at Hartington.
And the sun had woken her because she’d been sitting at the window last night and had been so distracted by her thoughts that she’d forgotten to close the curtains.
She stretched, enjoying the softness of the bed. It was nicer than hers, and she seemed to have slept deeply despite everything on her mind.
Now that she and Thaddeus had a plan, the world seemed full of possibility. She felt light-hearted as she went down to breakfast and was even a bit disappointed to find Thaddeus had taken his meal earlier and already gone out.
Everyone else in the household had plans, as well, and so she took Tatiana’s very enthusiastic advice to spend the morning in the library.
The room was big, and the number of books overwhelming, so rather than trying to choose, Isolde settled on the window seat and looked out at the meadow that separated Hartington from her own home.
It was a bright morning, and she wanted to open the window to feel the cool morning air on her cheek but wasn’t sure she was allowed.
A footman’s voice pulled her from her reverie.
“Miss Fairchild, you’ve a visitor.”
“Me?” she asked, turning toward the footman as he stood in the doorway. “Whoever could it be?” she wondered – mostly to herself, but the footman answered.
“Miss Annora White to see you, Miss Fairchild.”
“Annora! How wonderful!” Isolde had not been expecting her cousin to visit, but her heart leapt with happiness.
“Shall you receive the lady in here?” the footman asked. His tone made it clear that he found that idea rather odd.
“No, thank you.” Isolde scrambled to her feet, face flushing. “Would you please show her to the drawing room, if it’s not occupied?”
“Very well, miss.” The footman nodded and disappeared. Isolde smiled to herself as she straightened the cushions, wanting toleave the window seat as she had found it, and hurried toward the drawing room.
“Isolde, darling!” Annora barely waited for Isolde to get through the door before she threw her arms around her, enveloping her cousin in a warm hug. Isolde laughed and returned the hug.
“Let me look at you,” Annora gasped, dropping her arms to stand back and look Isolde over. “You look as pretty as ever. I thought perhaps you might look different, now that you’re engaged to marry a marquess – but you look the same, just my dear cousin, sweet as always!”
