One
“Wilt thou take Isobel Leyton to be thy wedded wife?”
No, thou will not.
Isobel struggled to keep the serene smile on her face, trying to be the picture of elegance and grace as she prepared to spend her life with an intolerable cad who would only bring her certain misery in marriage.
However, instead of the answer that should follow, the one that would seal her fate, Lord Sinclair simply remained silent. His cold and beady stare found hers, the muscle in his jaw twitching.
“Wilt thou take Isobel Leyton to be thy wedded wife?” The priest looked between the two of them, eyebrows knitted together.
Isobel swallowed hard. There was a dryness in her throat. There had been since she accepted the offer of marriage, but it wasworse on the morning of her wedding. So was the twisting and knotting in her stomach.
Would Joan think poorly of me if I turned and ran out of the church? If I committed my life to being a spinster?
She glanced over at her sister sitting in the front pew, her hands clasped in her lap. Joan met Isobel’s gaze, the corner of her mouth twitching into what could be considered an encouraging smile.
It looks more like confirmation that I’m marching toward my death.
Lord Sinclair let out a wavering breath. “I cannot marry this woman.”
Gasps echoed around the church, but all Isobel felt was relief. She had been marrying for all the right reasons—protecting Joan—but now that it was being called off, it felt like a weight was lifted from her shoulders.
Lord Sinclair cleared his throat, turning to look at the few people who had gathered to witness their marriage, locking gazes with Father. “I am sorry, Lord Leyton, but I cannot marry Isobel when my heart belongs to another.”
Isobel bit the inside of her cheek. She would’ve preferred the continued silence.
Instead, as she snuck a peek at Father, Viscount Leyton, she knew nothing good would come. Father’s face was a shade of crimson Isobel had never seen before. He shot to his feet, taking quick steps between his pew and them.
“Sinclair, I do not care who your heart belongs to. You said you would marry Isobel, and now you must.” Father’s voice shook with anger.
Isobel shook her head, hands curling into fists at her side, her heart racing. “Father, if Lord Sinclair doesn’t wish to marry me, then I willnotmarry him. I do not want someone who doesn’t want me.”
“I don’t care,” Father snapped, spinning to glare at her. He raised a meaty finger, pointing it in her face before seeming to remember himself. His hand dropped to his side. He stepped closer to hiss in her face. “None of this would be happening if you knew how to keep a man.”
Isobel’s cheeks burned hot as the people around them started whispering. Father’s words had echoed through the church, even though he was trying to be quiet.
She took a deep breath, stuffing down the tears as Father shook his head, taking her by the arm and pulling her into a room to the right of the altar.
As he hauled her into the room, he whipped around to face her. “You’re going to go out there and you will marry Lord Sinclair. You will beg him to marry you if you must.”
“I won’t.” Isobel held her head high, but there was a tremor of terror in her voice. “He doesn’t want me, and I won’t spend my life with a man who yearns for another.”
“This man was our last chance.” Father scrubbed a hand down his face. “We have two weeks before we are completely ruined. I hope you are proud of the damage you’ve caused your family.”
He brushed past her, and with him he took the suffocating feeling out of the room. Isobel couldn’t hear the words Father said to the people in the church; all she knew was that she had to get out of there. She needed to run away. She couldn’t look Joan in the eye and know that she had failed her.
So that was what she did.
Isobel dashed out of the room, down the aisle, and to the double doors. She pushed them open, the busy sounds of thetonmet her. She let out a wavering breath, finally starting to feel like she could breathe again.
People called her name. It echoed behind her like a bad reminder of the life she would be going back to if she turned around now.
I could run to a boat and travel across the sea.
As appealing as that thought was, she couldn’t leave Joan. Not like that. The rumors spreading around thetonwould never die if Isobel got on a boat and left.
But perhaps if I joined a monastery, they would. I could become a nun and never have to deal with another man. Father would be out of my life, but Joan could still visit.
