And yet: Had he really asked too much of her? Was waiting for someone you loveevertoo much?
Did she simply fall out of love with him, and Redmond was there to swoop in?
A fresh wave of sick horror coursed through him at this notion.
If this were true, why then would her face go incandescent with joy when she’d seen him standing by the willow?
And she’d recoiled as if he’d slapped her when he’d told her he nearly died.
And as he sifted ruthlessly through the murk of his emotions, he encountered the worst of his suspicions.
In his heart of hearts, he was certain whatever lay between Isolde and Isaiah was not frivolous.
It was real feeling.
This realization sank through him like a long, slow machete slice.
If he could have blamed Redmond for trifling with her in order tobesthim, maybe he could have borne it.
He was glad now that he hadn’t heard the content of the conversation. Because he’d seen how their bodies canted toward each other when they spoke. He’d witnessed Isaiah Redmond’s softly enthralled expression. He’d seemed so at peace in his skin, so illuminated and animated by some spirit he’d never publicly shown, it had been like looking at a different man entirely.
A man Jacob might have actually liked.
And this made it so much worse.
Jacob was a betting man only when he was fairly certain of a win.
And he would wager Redmond was in love with Isolde.
The realization made his gorge rise again.
Wasshein love with Redmond? Had she merely been lying to Jacob to placate him?
To what end?
Jacob pressed his palms against his eyes and moaned.
He stayed like that until the sweat chilled on his body and something tickled his cheek.
His sticky eyelids fluttered open. Two huge brown eyes were staring into his.
He lifted a hand to touch the soft nose of his concerned mare. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “It’s all right. It’s all right.”
It wasn’t.
Ironically, the one resource he could call upon he hadn’t learned in the West Indies or at Cambridge. He’d been born with it: courage.
He would need it tonight.
Because he would be going to the assembly to see if he could discover the truth.
On a clear day,from a certain room at the very top of the Redmond house, one could see a shining sliver of ocean, glints of the Ouse as it meandered through the undulating green of the Sussex Hills, and here and there, portions of the roads that wound through town. And if Isaiah angled his head just so, he could also see the roof of Miss Marietta Endicott’s Academy.
He’d driven the curricle dutifully home without saying good-bye to Isolde, but his neck still felt stiff from the effort not to turn around to look at her. It had felt churlish to simply abandon her without a word. Inwardly, resentment, even anger, still simmered at the way his sister had essentiallycollectedhim.
He hadn’t said a word to Diana on their journey home. All the questions he wanted to ask her—how did you know? What are your suspicions?—would simply have incriminated him.
What are you doing, Isaiah?He still didn’t know.
