He felt a bitter taste in his mouth as it all sank in – the extent to which his life had been something to be played with and manipulated for their favored outcome. He’d known Cassian could be callous and arrogant, but he’d not suspected him to be this heartless to the man he called a friend.
“Just give it a little time,” Cassian continued. “I covered well, and anyway, he’s too distracted by the old man’s death to notice.”
“He certainly is,” Vivienne said bitterly. “And you’re twice a fool if you don’t think that threatens our plan. He’s soft, he’ll want to comfort her. Curse that wretched old gambler for dying. I was so close to getting him to break the engagement.”
Hearing her speak so about the death of Isolde’s father was too much for Thaddeus. His grim determination to find the truth was replaced with fierce anger.
Without bothering to knock, he threw the door open and stepped into the room.
“I fear, Lady Bradshaw, that you were nowhere near your goal, and never have been, and never will be.”
They stared at him, open-mouthed and horrified. Cassian was the first to recover, and he pasted a grin over the shocked look on his face, though the fear still showed through in his eyes.
“Harrow! Listening at our door, you rascal? Careful, eavesdropping is a dangerous habit. You might mishear and get the wrong idea about any number of things.”
“Yes? Let me tell you the idea I’ve got. Beneath Lady Bradshaw’s laughably transparent efforts to win my affections, the two of you have been scheming to push me away from Miss Fairchild. You’ve said all sorts of things to try to turn my head, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve said them to her, as well.”
The pair exchanged a quick glance, and Thaddeus felt his stomach drop.
“You have, haven’t you? God knows the damage you’ve done. Well, it stops now. I want you out of my house, and you will never return.”
Vivienne went pale, and Cassian’s smile dropped.
“Surely you’re not serious, Harrow?”
“I have never been more serious. Get out. I never wish to see either of you ever again.”
“But we’ve known each other since we were in leading strings!” Cassian looked genuinely shocked, and Thaddeus realized he must never have considered that his actions, however heinous, would have true consequences.
“Tell me truly, Harrow,” Cassian said, his face more serious than Thaddeus had ever seen, “do you really mean to break our friendship over a woman you won in a bet? One that could not be less suited to you? Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone can see that Vivienne is a better match for you. We’ve all seen it all week. She’d be an impeccable marchioness!”
“Perhaps she would,” Thaddeus said, anger, disgust, and pity all hitting him as he watched his one-time friend try one last time to dissuade him of his own mind. “But I am not looking for a marchioness. I am looking for a companion, a woman who is kind and intelligent and whom I genuinely love. In those areas, and in all others that matter to me, Miss Fairchild far surpasses Lady Bradshaw.”
It felt so good to say, even here like this – that Isolde was wonderful and that he loved her. He suddenly felt light, perhaps the lightest he’d felt since the day his father died. His anger faded a little, paling in comparison to his love for Isolde.
“You will leave,” he said again, softer this time. “We shall never see each other again. And if that grieves you, as it grieves me, then you would do well to remember it was your own hand that led you here. Lady Bradshaw, if it is any comfort to you, I was always hers, from the moment we met. Cassian …” He paused, and when he spoke the words tasted bitter, “Goodbye, for the last time.”
Ignoring their protests, he turned and left, shutting the door resolutely behind him.
Chapter 29
The day of her father's funeral was gray and drizzly, and Isolde couldn't decide if the weather felt appropriately somber, or if she wished the sun would come out. Everything for the past week had felt this way – a little gray, a little cold, a little empty.
Still, even as she dreaded the finality of putting her father to rest, she also couldn't help looking with relief toward the next day. When it would all be over, and finally she, Thomas, and Cornelia could start to pick up the pieces of their lives and move forward.
It had been a week since she'd seen or heard from Thaddeus. He had kept his word and given her space. She was grateful to him, for both giving her what she'd asked for and understanding why she'd asked.
And yet, she couldn't help wishing he could have been there beside her, helping her to deal with everything.
A foolish thought,she chided herself. But she couldn't help longing for it anyway.
The service was mercifully brief and only the family attended – herself, Thomas, Cornelia, and Annora. Annora's mother was her mother's sister, so technically Annora had no relation to their father, but she had come anyway to support them.
As to her father's friends, all the men he had gone out drinking, gambling, and carousing with, none of them attended. Isolde was not surprised.
Likely he'd borrowed money from most of them, and besides, that sort of shallow relationship was not the kind where those involved truly cared for one another.
The sun came out as they made their way to the freshly dug grave, and as the pastor read the eulogy, Isolde closed her eyes, feeling its warmth on her skin.
