At the sound of her approach, Nicholas glanced up, and his face returned to that blank expression he wore so frequently. Impenetrable, no emotions allowed in.
“Ah,” the man chimed, turning his smile to her. There was something slightly unsettling about it, the way so many of his teeth were exposed by the gesture. “You must be His Grace’s lovely wife.”
Nicholas’s jaw snapped tight. “Enough. This conversation is over.” He stepped between the two of them, taking Isadora’s armin his hand. He held her firmly enough that she could not have escaped, even if she’d wanted to.
“As you wish,” the man called after them. “But this matter is not over, Your Grace. I will take what is owed!”
Something flickered in Nicholas’s eyes, but he said nothing as he led Isadora back in the direction of the park, his jaw set and his muscles tense.
“Who was that?” Isadora asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
Nicholas shook his head, not a muscle in his body loosening. “No one important. A business associate.”
“What business?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He exhaled sharply and turned to her, frustration passing across his face now. “Why did you come after me?”
She touched his arm. “Because you had gone, and I thought to find you. Was that so wrong of me?”
For a moment, she thought he might tell her that it was indeed very wrong of her, and that she ought to have stayed put like a good little wife and waited for his eventual return. But, to her surprise, he rested a hand atop hers for the briefest of moments.
“No, Isadora. It wasn’t wrong of you. I was just…” His jaw worked, and then with what appeared to be a monumental force of effort, he relaxed. “I should not have gone. I apologize. Where’s Sophia?”
“Sleeping,” Isadora said with a little smile, deciding to keep the peace and let the matter rest. The warmth of his palm on her hand lingered, even when he released her. “I left her under guard, don’t worry. She’s perfectly well.” She pointed at the blanket where Sophia’s small body still lay, watched over by the two footmen. “They would walk into fire for her sake, and you know it.”
“We all would,” Nicholas muttered, but he didn’t look in the least comforted by this reflection. On the contrary, he looked the opposite, as though the thought of Sophia’s charm and lovability was a black mark against her name.
Perhaps it made him think of Grace. Had Grace been like that? Isadora almost asked, but then Nicholas put his hand on hers and squeezed, and the question died on her lips.
Not now. Not when they seemed as though they might have overcome the worst of the distance between them.
“Shall we go home?” he asked after a sigh.
Isadora smiled in relief. Finally, a place that was hers, and that felt like home. “I would love to.”
Isadora’s peace remained until it came time for them to retire to their chambers that evening. She had not expected Nicholas to join her, not precisely—that would have been too much to ask of their fragile, tenuous relationship. But she had expected more than to listen to his footsteps creeping down the hallway and away.
Once again, he was going out.
Caroline’s words came back to her. You have a lot of freedom as a married lady, you know. Perhaps you could try using some of it.
Shedidhave a lot of freedom. And Nicholas had a lot of secrets.
Caroline was right about another thing, too: she did like him. More than liked him, perhaps. She wanted a true marriage one day, a home filled with children, and a husband who entrusted her with his heart as readily as he offered his protection.
Nicholas treated her with respect. At times, when emotion overcame his formidable restraint, he revealed a possessiveness that thrilled and unsettled her. But he kept the deepest parts of himself sealed away.
No longer.
Isadora slipped from her bed, belted a robe around her waist, and opened her door. A familiar lamp bobbed away down the corridor, and she silently set to follow.
If he rode into the city again, she would ride after him. Yes, she had promised him she would not do this again, but nor was she willing to resign herself to becoming a long-forgotten relic of Winchester Manor and never amounting to anything more.
No, that was unfair. She was finished with veiled truths and unfinished confessions.
She would have her marriage. Or she would lose it. She would not sit idly by and let it crumble.
Ahead of her, Nicholas descended the stairs and drifted through the house like a spectre. She followed, placing her feet carefully. Although she had expected him to make for the stables, he instead made his way through the foyer until he came to a side door that led through to a small gravel path. Opening it, he walked through.
