“Goodness no,” Celine said, looking aghast. “I will have a household to run. My Lord can keep his concerns to himself until I have the time to deal with them.”
Diana giggled. Her sister was so determined to make a striking lady of the house. She knew, without doubt, that within weeks, the household would love Celine and she have them all wrapped up, ready to serve, and that would include her husband.
She wondered what her own household would be like, whether she would enjoy running it or not. As the oldest girl at Estnell Estate, she had taken on some of the duties of running the house, after her mother had died. But the housekeeper had taken on most of it, and she had only taught Diana a little.
Perhaps there will be a kindly housekeeper who can help me at Gallonon Hall, too.
Of course, there would be. She shook her head at her own nonsense.
“Are you scared?” Celine asked, whispered conspiratorially and pulled Diana out of her reverie.
“Scared? Whatever for?”
“For…you know—”
Diana blinked and looked at her blankly. She had no idea what her sister was referring to, and Celine huffed.
“What happens after the wedding. It is something I would love to talk to Mother about, but—”
“Oh,” Diana said, raising her eyebrows and laughing. “I’m not sure this is proper conversation,” she said.
“No, of course it is not. But we are alone, Diana, and I have no idea what will happen. Should I be scared? I am sure you know more about this than me.”
“I don’t know how you suppose that,” Diana said with a shrug. “But from what little I do know, I would say no—do not be scared. The wedding is your declaration of love, in the eyes of God and in front of witnesses. What happens after…well, that is a celebration of that love, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“Really, Celine,” Diana said, leaning over and patting her hand. “I have as much experience in that area as you do, but I am pretty certain that if it was anything to be scared of then generations of ladies before us would not have taken part. If it turns out to be a terrible thing, I should certainly warn my daughters against it. Wouldn’t you?”
Celine sat back in her chair, her brow creased with thought, her teacup still in hand.
“You know, Diana,” she said. “You make an excellent point.”
“I know I do,” Diana said, chuckling. “Follow your heart, dear Sister, just as I will, and all will become clear.”
Chapter 30
“I heard you were back,” Thomas said as he sauntered into the drawing room, his arrogance pouring from him.
Isaac was reading, the book flopped open over his crossed legs, a glass of whisky in hand.
“I have been back for two days,” Isaac said without looking up from his book. “And yet you were nowhere to be found. Where have you been, Thomas?”
“What business is that of yours? You have disowned me, remember?” Thomas asked, slouching onto the sofa and sighing. Isaac looked up and stared open-mouthed at his brother.
“Of course it is my business. You are my Brother, and this is my house. And I have not disowned you, but you are no longer a child, Thomas, and I believe it is time you grew up.”
Thomas snorted with derision, but Isaac continued to stare at him.
“You have not changed your mind then?” Thomas asked. “You are still intent on marrying the girl and living happily with your Father’s killer?”
“No,” Isaac said slowly. “I have not changed my mind. I have also not changed my mind about you needing to find your own accommodation and some way of supporting yourself. The Earl of Estnell has—”
“The Earl of Estnell?” Thomas said, his voice high with disbelief and disrespect. “You talk of Father’s murderer with respect now! How low you have sunken, Brother. You will be calling him Father next, and the man will have won everything he ever wanted.”
“The Earl of Estnell,” Isaac repeated, ignoring Thomas’ stinging words, “has extended my invitation to stay. Until the wedding. I shall take him up on the offer and in the meantime, you can find a solution to your situation. Once I am married, however, Lady Diana and I will be living here—without you. If you have been foolish enough not to resolve your situation by then, I am afraid will you be out on the streets.”
“You cannot be serious?” Thomas asked, but Isaac could see the mixture of fury and fear in his eyes.
He is finally seeing this is not a mere argument.
Isaac said nothing but looked up at his brother with a blank, serious expression.
“You will regret this, Brother,” Thomas said, then he pulled himself from the sofa and stormed out of the room.
Isaac raised an eyebrow after him but soon returned his attention to the pages on his lap. He didn’t believe Thomas would do any real harm, not now he had been threatened.
Later that night, Isaac settled himself into his room at the Estnell Estate. He had taken a brief dinner but then, wishing to be alone, he had retired.
He worried for his brother, even though it was he who had set this final path in motion. No matter what he thought of Thomas, of his plans and his cruelty, they were still—and always would be—brothers. Isaac wished him the best, but he wished it in such a way that it did not include himself.
He sighed and pulled off his cravat then shrugged off his waistcoat. He groaned with weariness as he sat on the edge of his bed. Lady Celine’s coming out and the night he had met the beautiful Diana seemed a lifetime ago. His thoughts and feelings were entirely different now, filled with love and desire instead of bitterness and hatred. He leaned down and pulled off his shoes, wiggling his toes with their new-found freedom, then he lay back, sighing.
Isaac started when he heard a knock at the door, causing his heart to race unnecessarily. He jerked into a sitting position, suddenly alert.
“Come in,” he called, his lips pressed together in a thin and unamused grimace.
“Thank goodness you’re awake,” the butler gasped as he rushed into the room. He could barely catch his breath and his cheeks were an inflamed red. Panic flashed through his eyes.
“What is it, Miller?” Isaac asked, rising from his chair. “What has happened?”
“It’s Lady Diana, You Grace,” Miller said, swallowing. “She’s gone.”
Isaac felt something heavy and unpleasant drop within him and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe or move or do a single thing.
“Gone? What do you mean gone?” His breath quickened and he glared at Miller, willing him to give him the answers he needed. Willing him to admit it was all a jest, nothing more.
“I mean gone, Your Grace. We believe she has been taken from her rooms, but she is nowhere to be found.”
Isaac ran, pushing past the unsteady butler and through the corridors. He pounded up the stairs to Diana’s room and he burst in, not knocking, not caring, only wanting to find her, to verify for himself that she had gone.
“Diana! Where are you?”
He blustered through the room and then into her bedroom, where her bed lay unmade, but she was nowhere to be seen.
“Diana!” he screamed as he flew back down the stairs, past the first floor where his rooms lay and down towards the entrance hall. “Diana!”
“She’s gone,” Celine wailed, raising her hands to her face and crying out for her sister.
“She can’t have gone,” Isaac growled. “Where would she have gone?”
Celine stood in the center of the entrance hall in her night-rail and slippers, and already she had tears running down her cheeks.
“Then where is she?” Celine snapped, turning on Isaac. She screamed, loud and wild. “Where is my Sister? There is no place she would go—not on her own. She must have been taken.”
“The gardens!” Isaac said, the idea rushing through him. Diana had a habit of hiding in gardens. Why should tonight be any different?
“I will send the servants out to search the gardens,” Miller said
, his words competing with his pants as he lumbered down the stairs after Isaac.
“She has never disappeared into the gardens in the middle of the night before,” Celine said, shaking her head. “That is something she does to get away from other people, not to get away from her own rooms.”
“You’re right,” Isaac said, his comportment calmer than he felt. “But it is worth checking, all the same.”
And then it dawned on Isaac, solid and heavy and sudden.
Thomas.
“Please, Your Grace,” Miller said once he had returned from sending out a search party. “The Earl is in the drawing room. I informed him first, and he is frantic with worry. But he is not in good health. I suspect consumption, but he will not allow me to call for the physician.”
“Goodness me,” Celine said, a hand to her forehead. “I do not think I can take any more.”
Isaac took a deep breath, his jaw clenched and his fists tight as he thought.
“All right,” he said eventually, nodding his head. “Panicking will get us nowhere. We will meet with the Earl in the drawing room and discuss our next course of action.”
“But who would have wanted to take my darling, beautiful Sister? She is no threat nor enemy to anyone.”
“No,” Isaac said grimly, “but not everyone is as sweet as she.”
Isaac needed only to take one step into the drawing room to know Miller was telling the truth. The room reeked of the stench of sickness, and the Earl’s skin was pallid and moist. His eyes stared into nothing, and he wheezed as he breathed. He tried to turn his head when Isaac entered, but he barely had the energy for that.
“Oh, Papa!” Celine cried, and she pushed past Isaac to run to him. She landed on her knees in front of the sofa and she grasped hold of her father’s hand.
“Celine,” he said, his voice raspy.
“It’s all right, Papa, I’m here now.”
“Where is Diana?” he asked, his lost eyes searching out Isaac.
Celine wailed again and lowered her head until it rested on their clasped hands.
“It seems she has been taken, My Lord,” Miller said.
Isaac shot him a look. He wasn’t entirely convinced that telling the Earl what had happened was for the best. But Henry simply nodded, not seeming to understand. Celine turned to look at Isaac.
“I fear for my Father’s health as much as I fear for Diana’s safety,” she said, her words suddenly calm. Isaac couldn’t help but feel impressed at this young lady’s ability to handle herself in a crisis. “We must do something. Sitting here is doing neither of them any good.”
“Yes,” Isaac said. “I am as fearful as you, and I do understand your concerns, My Lady. Believe me, I do. But we cannot act rashly. We must think this through and consider our options before making a decision. That is the only way to ensure Lady Diana’s safe return.”
Celine looked up at him, gratitude in her eyes, and she nodded briefly before turning back to her ailing father.
Isaac paced the room, and as he did so, he tried to clear his thoughts of the accusations, the guilt and the anger at himself. This was his fault, he knew, for arguing with Thomas. Had he not, Thomas would never have dreamed of doing such a thing.
It was his doing, payment for his part in this grotesque plan that now, he wished more than anything he had never agreed to.
Although had I not, I would never have met my beautiful Diana.
But he knew he couldn’t think like that. As true as it might be, he needed to act, not merely fill himself with self-pity and self-hatred. He needed to find Diana before reflecting on his part in this ugly game of his brother’s.
“Shall I call the Constable?” Miller asked.
“No,” Isaac said, altogether too quickly, and all eyes turned on him in surprise. Isaac calmed his voice. “We do not want anyone to know of anything that might possibly cause a scandal,” he said. “Or worse—sully Lady Diana’s good name.”
Miller leaned heavily against the back of a chair, still breathless, still red-faced. Isaac wondered briefly how he managed to complete his duties while being in such poor health himself, but then he pushed the thought away.
“He’s right,” Henry wheezed, the scratch in his voice making it hard to distinguish. “We must fix this ourselves or risk Diana’s innocence.”
“But how?” Celine asked. She remained on her knees, looking from one man to another. “We do not know where to start, or who to blame.”
“Who would do such a thing?” Henry asked.
“I don’t know,” Isaac said, the lie bitter on his tongue. “But I will find out, and I will get her back.”
Chapter 31
“Isaac,” Henry rasped, and Isaac looked worriedly over to him. “Promise me, won’t you?”
“Yes, Lord Estnell, I promise,” he said, his brow creased. He didn’t make eye contact with the Earl—he couldn’t, not when he knew he played a big part in this disaster. But his promise was truer than any other word he had spoken. He would save Diana, even if it cost him his life.
“My legs…” Henry said, reaching vaguely toward the lower half of his body, “I would help but—”
“No,” Isaac said firmly. “You need to rest. I will find her.”
“Yes, Papa,” Celine cried. “You rest. Miller, can you fetch Father’s valet? He needs special attention.”
“Of course, My Lady,” Miller said, before scuttling from the room to call the valet. Isaac was surprised he had not already done so, given the state Henry was in, but he supposed the shock of the event affected them in different ways.
Isaac felt as though something was closing in on his chest, a heavy weight that caused his breath to pant, weak and shallow. His mind raced, the time sped past—too quickly. He had to do something.
And yet, at the same time, each moment seemed to last a minute, each minute an hour. With his senses heightened, he noticed each tiny movement, each breath everyone in the room took. It was as though time had slowed to help him solve this puzzle, while his heart raced to encourage him.
Henry groaned again, and Isaac whipped around to look at him. The Earl looked old and gray, his flesh withered from his bones, his skin sagging from his face. His face was lined with pain, both at Diana’s disappearance and at the pain that wracked his body.
“Please Papa,” Celine cried, his hand to her forehead still. “Please get well again. I cannot lose you as well as Diana.”
“You have not lost Diana,” Isaac snapped angrily. “To think that way will not help.”
He saw Celine shake in response and he felt an instant guilt.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his chest heaving with regret and sadness, with worry and fear. “But she is not lost, she—”
“It’s all right,” Celine replied, her voice barely a whisper. She tilted her head to look at him. “We are all frightened. I did not mean to suggest Diana would not come back to us.”
“She will return,” Henry said.
At that moment, the valet came rushing in, still dazed with sleep and hair that had refused to do as it was told. He went first to the drink cabinet and then to the Earl, a tot of brandy in hand.
“Here, My Lord,” he said. “Try to sit up if you can. I suspect the brandy will help your concern if not your body. Shall I call the physician?”
“No,” Henry said at exactly the same time as Celine said, “Yes.”
The valet looked from one to the other, open-mouthed, but then he said, “As you wish, My Lord. In that case, let me tend to you. I am here for anything you wish. Are you comfortable enough?”
“Yes,” the Earl croaked.
Celine scowled at the valet, although in truth the valet could have done little else than obey his master.
“Have there been any developments?” Miller asked as he re-entered the room, clearly in such shock that he had forgotten his place. “I mean, is there anything I can do to help?”
“No,” Isaac said, tight-lipped. “Not yet, at least. Please stay in
the room, however. Your services may be required.”
Miller nodded and then took a step back, as was his habit. Out of the melee of action, but still within easy reach.
Isaac paced the room, his thoughts racing to the accompaniment to Henry’s groans of pain and Celine’s cries of despair. He had to do something, he had to find a way of getting her back.
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