“Thank God,” Damien murmured as he assisted them to their feet.
“Oh, Father, I was so scared.” Catherine wrapped her arms about Damien’s waist and squeezed tightly enough to crack a rib.
Damien hugged his daughter fiercely. Over her head, he fixed his gray eyes directly on Isabella’s pale face, dirt-smudged cheek, and untidy hair. Damien smiled broadly. She had never looked more beautiful. He offered her his hand and she grasped it without hesitation. An aching tenderness filled his soul, and he was stunned by the feelings that swelled in his chest. He loved her. With all his heart.God help him.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Catherine has fallen into an exhausted sleep and Ian will soon follow,” Damien said. “I asked Maggie to sit with them. I don’t want the children awakening from their naps and finding themselves alone. They might become frightened.”
Damien spoke from the doorway of Isabella’s bedchamber. He had stayed with his children until a peaceful sleep had claimed his daughter, her small hand clutched tightly in his own. The earl had slipped away when she was fully slumbering, after holding his son for several minutes in a warm, comforting hug.
“I pray Catherine and Ian will not have any lingering nightmares from the incident,” Isabella replied in a small voice. Damien watched the swift play of emotions that crossed her face. Tears sparkled in her eyes, and she wiped them with the dusty sleeve of her gown. “It was all my fault, Damien. I should have been more careful. I’m so very sorry.”
“You must not blame yourself, Isabella. If anyone is to be held responsible, it is I,” Damien insisted. “I should never have told the children those preposterous stories about Lady Anne’s treasure. Naturally they were curious.”
Damien moved forward, feeling awkward as he approached Isabella. The unexpected discovery a few hours ago that he was in love with her was nearly paralyzing him. He did not feel at ease with these new emotions. Damien was stunned and slightly overwhelmed at the enormity of the love and protectiveness he felt for Isabella. These strange, unexpected feelings made him uncertain. He felt vulnerable and slightly out of control.
Damien decided this must be the difficult, unpleasant side of love. Yet this same emotion had the power to make his heart, nay his very soul, leap with gladness just to be near Isabella. She brought forth the tenderness and joy buried deep within him. She brought lightness and laughter into his life.
Damien longed to reveal his heart to Isabella, but he was unsure. He stared at her in silence, this woman he loved, and wondered if this was the right moment to speak. She was clearly still shaken by the occurrences of the morning. In fact, the past twenty-four hours of Isabella’s life had been nothing but turmoil. She had discovered the identity of her father, gotten drunk on a bottle of his best claret for the first and probably last time in her life, and been locked away in a damp, musty passage with a nearly hysterical child.
How would she react to his declaration? Would she welcome it or, God forbid, be embarrassed by it? Damien knew how important love was to Isabella. He remembered vividly her passionate speech the morning after their first intimate encounter. She had refused his marriage proposal because he did not love her. Would she now accept him? Would he finally have a chance at the life he had never before known he wanted?
Deciding he could not stand the uncertainty, Damien took action. He swung his foot and slammed Isabella’s bedchamber door shut. He wanted complete privacy for this intimate moment.
Isabella jumped, clearly startled by his action. “Please don’t,” she whispered hoarsely. Crossing the room quickly, she reopened the door. “I find myself suddenly averse to closed spaces of any kind.”
“Ah, sweet,” he murmured. He reached out and drew her to him. “It pains me deeply to know you suffered.”
Isabella gave a small cry of anguish, crushed her face to Damien’s chest, and sobbed quietly.
“I was so frightened. It was cramped and dark, and Catherine, poor mite, was terrified. I knew you would come, Damien—I never doubted that for a moment. But it was so hard waiting.”
Isabella’s pain touched him, sending a wave of tenderness surging through him. Her blind trust that he would come to her rescue was a humbling thought. She was an independent, self-reliant woman, yet she turned to him for solace and strength. It was a good sign.
“I am going to send Jenkins with a crew of men to the east wing this afternoon and instruct them to seal off that panel,” Damien said. “I do not want anyone else ever subjected to the torment you and Catherine endured today.”
“You mustn’t do that.” Isabella’s violet eyes were troubled. She took a deep, bracing breath. “I’m sure you will think me mad, Damien, but I believe there is something in that passageway.”
“What!” Damien felt his stomach clench in shock. “What is it? What did you see?”
Isabella chewed briefly on her lower lip. “I didn’t really see anything; it was far too dark. But something in there rendered Catherine motionless with fright. At first I thought it was just her imagination, but the longer we were trapped inside, the more I began to feel it too. Toward the end it became unbearably intense.”
Damien sighed with relief. “I’m sure it was merely a reaction to being confined in such a small, dark place.”
“Perhaps,” she conceded. Isabella turned from him and twisted her fingers nervously. “As much as it pains me to suggest it, I think we need to go back inside the passageway and investigate.”
Damien’s brow rose. He found Isabella’s request oddly disturbing. He was hoping to put the unfortunate incident behind them. He had never dreamed Isabella would want to return to the place that had brought her such distress.
“If you feel it is so important, Jenkins and I will do as you suggest,” Damien said, not relishing the notion of entering the tomblike passage.
“Good.” Isabella turned back to him and smiled sheepishly. “I’ll only need a few moments to change into a fresh gown. I know it’s rather foolish, since I will probably get all dusty and dirty again, but I would feel better if I cleaned up a bit. Of course, the best thing for me to wear would be breeches.”
“Absolutely not.”
Isabella’s smile broadened. “I was only teasing, Damien. Naturally I will not be donning breeches. Where would I ever find a pair to fit me?”
“Isabella, there is no reason for you to come with us,” Damien said, deliberately ignoring her quip. “You cannot tolerate a closed bedchamber door, how will you fare inside that passageway? Jenkins and I are perfectly capable of exploring it on our own.”
