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He started pacing the floor, unwilling to go to Millicent just yet because he knew he would frighten her in his current disposition.

Isabel stood still, following him with her gaze. “Don’t you think I blame myself?” she asked quietly.

“Not enough,” Rhys growled.

He was being cruel and insensitive. But deep down, he knew that all his rage was not directed at his wife. Instead, it was directed at himself.

He was the one who had the final say in the matter of a governess. He was the one who left his daughter at the manor as he went to another estate. He was the one who had failed his daughter yet again.

With a roar, he swept the dishes from the table. Isabel squeaked and jumped away from him. Her eyes were filled with terror.

After the brief episode of violence, Rhys’s blood had cooled. He ran a hand through his hair. “I shall go see Millicent now.”

“Rhys—”

“Not now!”

Rhys exited the room and slammed the door shut.

* * *

Isabel stood, shaking, in the aftermath of her husband’s rage. She had never seen him this way, and she hoped to never see him like this ever again.

Isabel had never been a coward, but she was frightened out of her wits at the moment. She had not anticipated such a severe reaction to the news. She had not expected him to be so angry.

She took a deep breath, took in the destruction caused by her husband, and silently exited the room. Footmen stood outside, hiding their gaze.

Isabel walked past them as if nothing was the matter.

She found the housekeeper, asked her to send someone to clean up the breakfast room and load a basket with food and salted almonds, and went to her room to change.

She would not be waiting for her husband to yell at her more. She would not be cowering in the house either. She needed to get out, and she needed to do it now.

Chapter 24

Isabel left home on a beautiful and sunny afternoon.

The sun twinkled high in the sky, and there was nary a cloud on the horizon. Usually, Isabel would have been joyfully galloping, letting the breeze hit her face, but now she cantered along, glowering at animals who dared cross her path and irritably swatting at dragonflies.

It was rather annoying when the weather didn’t match her mood. On the rare occasion when England decided to grace her with wonderful weather, the rest of her life seemed to be in chaos.

Her husband hated her and blamed her for all sins.

To be fair, she blamed herself, too.

Rhys had trusted her judgment. He had said that a few nights ago, warming her heart, and she had betrayed his trust in the most awful way possible.

Isabel only hoped that Millicent would forget the incident rather quickly.

Governesses had not been exactly gentle with Isabel and her little sister Sam either. They were strict and occasionally punished them with flogging. But they used a thin stick on the rear and never with a cane.

What kind of a monster strikes a little helpless child with a thick cane?

Isabel swallowed the torrid memories. And Millicent had tried to tell her. She had told her that the governess was strict. She had said that she had disliked her. She probably could not put into words what that monster had actually done.

What more did she do?

Isabel squeezed her eyes tightly.