Page 86 of The Betrothal

“It would be three weeks today.” I did the maths for her.

“He called me?” She sounded confused.

“Yes, this morning.”

She scowled at me and I realised what she was thinking.

“Jesus, Isabelle. I got a voice message because I missed his call. I didn’t keep it from you,” I clarified.

Her frown softened but didn’t disappear. “What did he say?”

“Seven days.”

“That’s it?” she pressed.

“I can play it for you when we get home.” Home. I swallowed and continued. “The gist was seven days, no overnight arrangements. Midday at meeting point two. I assume that means something to you then?”

I watched her for a reaction, the words registered and the tension in her shoulders dropped, just a little.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “Okay.” The second time it was a little louder, a thread of determination to it. “Right.”

The last word was suddenly entirely unconvincing. Were her eyes watering?

“Right,” I echoed her words. “Let’s go inside.”

“Uh-huh,” she whispered.

I unlocked the back door to the main house, turning to see that she hadn’t moved.

“Isabelle?” She didn’t reply to my calling her name. “Izzy!”

She snapped free of her thoughts. “Yes?”

“Izzy, let’s go,” I urged gently. The anger was quickly draining from me after the nightmare that was today, and I wasn’t willing to be a big enough dick to press her further. Not right now, anyway.

She was just pushing the food around the plate in front of her. I’d prompted her to eat several times already but it made no difference.

Had Seb been here, or Ben, I had no doubt that they’d ask and she’d immediately acquiesce, but not for me. I didn’t have that effect on her. The only reaction I could rouse from the woman was anger and irritation.

“Come on.” I stood and she mutely followed.

The house was freezing so I offered her the coat I carried, the one she had shed in the kitchen, but she didn’t take it.

I accepted the uncomfortable silence, Izzy following me up the wooden staircase and across the hallway to one of the smaller bedrooms.

Dust-sheets covered every single thing in the property, with the exception of this room and the small kitchen.

I swung the door inwards, waiting for her to follow then securing it closed behind us and switching on the space heater.

It would take a while but the room was liveable with the heater on.

I opened the en-suite door and ushered her inside. She watched me warily.

“Disposable toothbrushes are in the vanity, the towel is almost entirely clean, I don’t have spares,” I admitted. “I didn’t think to bring them.”

Nice work, Alex.

“Anything else you need should be in here.” I opened a cupboard to show combs and toiletries and left her.