“Even Mrs. Amberly?” Isabella joked, blinking back the moisture from her eyes.
“Oh, miss!” Maggie smiled. “That’s just what I mean. Who will make us laugh when you are gone?”
Isabella smiled weakly. After a several minutes of fussing over the baby and more hugs from Maggie, she finally quit the room. Nerves frayed and resolve waning, Isabella proceeded to the front salon. Marshaling the courage she knew she would need, Isabella paused before entering the room.
Her expression remained contained, but she flinched inwardly when she saw Damien, Ian, and Catherine. God help her, this was going to be difficult.
“Father told us you are going away,” Catherine said without preamble in the typical forthright manner of children. “Why are you leaving us?”
“I have important business I must attend to that forces me away from The Grange,” Isabella replied, giving as much explanation as she dared. She was relieved that Damien had spared her from informing the children of her departure, but was unsure what the earl might have told his children. “I shall miss you, Catherine. And you too, Ian.”
“But we don’t want you to go away,” Catherine cried.
“I know,” Isabella whispered, impulsively dropping to her knee and opening her arms wide. Both children rushed forward without hesitation. Isabella hugged their small bodies tightly, committing to memory the joyful feel of their clinging arms and sweet, wet kisses.
“You must promise to behave yourselves and mind your father,” Isabella said. She sat back on her heels but still held the children loosely in the circle of her arms. “I want you to practice your numbers, Ian. Catherine, you must continue with your alphabet and letters. I’m sure your father will be glad to help you.”
Isabella risked a glance at the earl, but Damien’s expression gave no hint of his inner thoughts.
“You may go down to the kitchen, children,” Damien said. “Cook prepared a special treat for you last night and has left it in the larder.”
The children didn’t budge, clearly reluctant to leave, but after a commanding nod from their father they sprang into action.
“Good-bye, Miss Browning,” Catherine said.
“Good-bye, Miss Browning,” Ian repeated.
With one final hug, the children dashed from the room. The door slammed loudly at their exit, the room silent except for the lingering sound. Isabella slowly rose to her feet. She straightened her traveling cloak, looking down at the buttons that adorned the front.
“I waited for you last night,” she said softly.
“My mood was not very congenial.” Damien flexed the fingers on his left hand. “I would have been rather unpleasant company.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” Isabella said honestly. Screwing up her courage, she asked. “Where were you?”
“I rode for several hours around the grounds of the estate before eventually heading toward the village. By nightfall I found myself at the town square. I went inside the church.” Damien swallowed so hard she could see his Adam’s apple move. “And spent the night there.”
“In church?”
A ghost of a smile flashed across his face. “Unbelievable, is it not?”
“Not really.” Isabella leaned close and laid her hand on the earl’s arm. “I hope it brought you some measure of peace, Damien.”
“At this moment, I don’t think that is either humanly or divinely possible.”
Isabella gripped his arm. She wanted to lean her head forward until it rested against his broad chest. She wanted to tell him that she shared his pain, his grief, his distress. She wanted to offer comfort and be comforted by this strong, noble man whom she loved beyond all reason. But she did not move.
Damien cleared his throat. “We spoke once of the possible consequences of our physical relationship. If, after you leave, you discover—”
“There will be no child,” Isabella whispered, dropping her arm.
“I see.” The earl’s voice was smooth and emotionless. “Are you all packed?”
“Yes.” Isabella bowed her head.
“Has Jenkins or one of the other servants brought your luggage down?”
“Yes.”
