“I shall see that you are packed at once, and able to return home with your siblings as soon as all of you are ready – though, of course, you may stay here as long as you need. As for our future … I will wait for you to speak of it to me. Until then, I will be here. When you’re ready, send for me, and I will come.”
“Thank you,” she said. The relief of knowing she would go home – that she would spend the next night in her own bed, and wake to have breakfast with only her family – mingled with the knowledge that her father would not be there with them. He would never be there with them again.
She fought back her tears, afraid that if she cried, then he would hold her again. Afraid that if he held her, then she would never stop crying.
“I must return to my sister,” she said. “Thank you, truly.”
“Of course,” he said, giving her a slight bow before turning to head back down the hallway. She put her hand on the doorknob, pausing to be sure her tears were in check before she went back inside.
“Isolde,” Thaddeus said suddenly. The sound of him saying her name cut through the haze of her grief like a shaft of light, like his voice had opened a shutter and shown her there was sunshine outside, waiting for her when she was ready. She turned toward him, feeling an odd thrill of hope.
He had stopped in the middle of the hallway and was simply staring at her. He looked a bit taken aback as if surprised by his own boldness.
“Yes?” she asked and heard a tremble in her voice.
At the sound of her voice, something changed in his expression, and for one wild moment, Isolde was sure he was going to confess his love. It seemed written in every line on his face.
Then the moment passed, and that expression seemed to disappear.
“Good night,” he finally said.
“Good night, Lord Hartington,” she replied, stifling a strange impulse to speak as he had, casually – to use his name. And long after he bowed and left the corridor, she stared after him. The thrill of hope his voice had given her did not go with him but lingered like a promise.
It was only afterward, when she was back in the room with Annora and Cornelia, that she realized he had said “our future”. As though whatever the future held, he expected them to meet it together. She told herself it was just one small word, and it did not mean anything, and that she should not try to think about this while so much else was happening.
And yet, when Cornelia was finally calm, and they had all laid down to get some much-needed sleep, she found herself thinking of him. She could not help whispering to herself before she drifted off into her dreams, “Good night, Thaddeus.”
Chapter 28
Thaddeus hadn’t been able to stop himself from calling out to Isolde as she turned into her room. It just hadn’t felt right, walking away from her like that without telling her how he felt. But then, when she’d turned back to him, he’d hesitated.
He had just promised to give her time. She was about to leave with her siblings and go home to bury her father; she didn’t need his confession weighing on her mind as well.
So he’d merely bid her good night and left, telling himself whatever pain he felt at walking away from her, it was nothing compared to her grief.
As he walked, his mind returned to Cassian and Vivienne. Cassian’s slip of the tongue hadn’t mattered to him when Isolde needed him, but now he couldn’t help dwelling on it. He felt a sudden desire to find Cassian and confront him, forcing him to finish the conversation.
Perhaps it’s better to wait until morning,he thought. But no, he was sick of waiting. If he couldn’t have the truth out between himself and Isolde, he would at least have it out between himself and Cassian.
He had just reached Cassian’s door and lifted his hand to knock when the sounds of raised voices inside stopped him.
“How could you have been so foolish?!”
It was Vivienne’s voice, but not her familiar tone. The carefully dulcet quality was gone, and instead her voice was sharp and full of anger.
“Calm down, it will all be fine.”
Cassian sounded angry as well, and unlike Vivienne’s tone, this was a tone Thaddeus knew well. It was the one Cassian used when he was tired of being bothered with whatever people were concerned about.
“Fine? Fine! Yes, of course. You nearly gave away our plans to the one person whom I must not know, but I am supposed to be calm. Here I am, taking advantage of every opportunity to try to turn his attention to me –”
“And you think I’m not?”
“I think you’re doing what you always do, treating this like a diversion that exists for your personal amusement. Never mindpoor Vivienne or what happens to her because you’ll be fine either way.”
“Enough,” Cassian whined.
Enough, indeed,Thaddeus thought. His desire for confrontation had soured, having already learned everything he needed to know.
