“Isoline?”
Her eyes flew open at the beautiful sounds of her own name. She heard the door to the parlor open and footsteps as someone entered the room.
“Isoline?” the man said again, and she recognized it instantly.
“Auberon!” she attempted to yell with her muffled mouth.
Quicker than she could blink, Auberon was standing over them. Tristan looked up, but before he could move from atop her, Auberon grabbed him by the collar and pinned him against the fireplace.
“What is the meaning of this?” Auberon roared at Tristan.
“Come now,” Tristan said with a nervous chuckle. “We were just…things were…just getting a little passionate…”
Isoline scrambled to her feet and spat the handkerchief from her mouth. She ran to the bell cord and pulled it furiously. “He was trying to force himself on me!” she cried. She suddenly felt sick in her stomach and sank into a nearby chair. It had happened so quickly. If Auberon hadn’t…
Auberon snarled at Tristan and slammed him into the mantle. “You bastard!”
“Ah! Ah! Hot! Hot!” Tristan yelled as the flames from the fireplace nipped at the back of his legs.
“Get used to it!” Auberon yelled. “There will be lots of flames where you’re going!”
At that, James and Talbot rushed into the room. Talbot pulled Auberon away while James attended to Tristan.
“This is no way for gentlemen to behave,” Talbot scolded.
“Tristan is no gentleman!” Isoline said, her senses returning. “Auberon was only protecting me.”
“Protecting?” Talbot asked, confused. “What is going on?”
“What is the unholy racket in here?” Bellamira demanded as she entered the parlor, followed by her own maid and Bess. “Mr. Dracoia? Tristan? Explain yourselves.”
Bess went to Isoline’s side and helped her stand from the seat. She was shaking so hard she didn’t think she could support herself on her own steam.
“I found him…assaulting Miss Isoline,” Auberon explained as he paced, trying to calm down.
Bellamira’s hand flew to her chest. “What? In my own home? Tristan, explain yourself!”
“It is not as simple as Mr. Dracoia suggests,” Tristan tried to rationalize. “I am in love with Isoline.”
“And that gives you the right to…to what?” Bellamira asked, her whole body quaking.
“I was giving her one last chance to marry me,” Tristan said, pleadingly turning to Isoline. “I was trying to help her salvage was little is left of her good reputation.”
“By trying to…to…” Isoline hesitated as her eyes surveyed the room. She hated to use such plain language, but she was so shaken, she needed everyone to know just how terrible the whole ordeal had been. “By trying to rape me?” she finally forced out.
Bess screamed and held Isoline tightly. James and Talbot audibly gasped in horror. Auberon tried to grab Tristan again, but Talbot shook off his shock quickly enough to restrain him. Bellamira herself collapsed onto a sofa, her maid holding her arm tightly.
“Is this true?” Bellamira whispered harshly at Tristan.
“I caught him pinning her to the floor,” Auberon answered before Tristan could try and worm his way out of the situation.
“A moment of passion—” Tristan tried to say.
“With his handkerchief stuffed into her mouth to keep her from screaming for help?” Auberon interrupted, his eyes flashing in anger.
“I told you—” Tristan attempted again, but Bellamira spoke up.
“Get out, Tristan,” she ordered. “Talbot.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Talbot replied, no further orders needed. He attempted to grip Tristan by the arm, but Tristan pulled free. He then straightened his jacket and ran his fingers through his hair. Finally, he briskly headed toward the door, Talbot on his heels.
Once the sound of the front door shutting reverberated through the house, everyone exhaled a sigh of relief.
Isoline could restrain herself no longer. She ran to Auberon and cried into his chest as he held her in his arms.
“Auberon!” she cried. “If you hadn’t come when you did…” She couldn’t bear to finish.
“When you didn’t show up today, I had a feeling something was wrong,” he said, petting her hair.
“Louise,” Bellamira said, turning to her maid. “What is happening here?”
“I don’t know, my lady,” Louise said.
Isoline wiped the tears from her eyes and forced herself away from Auberon’s protective embrace. “Oh, auntie,” she said as she tried to keep herself from crying more, but she hung her head in shame. “I believe Tristan was motivated by jealousy. I…I have found myself falling in love with Mr. Dracoia.”
“Found yourself?” Bellamira asked incredulously. “Quite by accident, I presume?”
Isoline chuckled at her aunt’s words. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “I have been seeing him regularly. But always publically! I never wanted to bring shame on you or risk my reputation.”
“And how does Mr. Dracoia feel about this?” she asked, turning to him.
“I too have strong feelings for Miss Isoline,” he said with a smile as he brought Isoline’s hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Isoline felt the warmth of his lips rush through her body. She felt comforted in his presence. Safe. Something she sorely needed at the moment.
Bellamira pressed her lips and seemed to give this some thought. Isoline held her breath, afraid of what her aunt would say. While she was clearly upset with Tristan, would she also be disappointed in her niece? Was she to lose the only two kin in her life in one moment?
“So much for never wanting to marry, I suppose?” she said to Isoline with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“I never intended to mislead you,” Isoline said, rushing to her aunt’s side. “When I came here, I only wanted to be your companion. I never imagined that, here, so far from my home that I might fall in love.”
Bellamira nodded. “No, I supposed you had no way of knowing such a thing before you came here,” she said. “But you realize your father will never approve.”
“I know,” Isoline said with a sad nod. “I don’t know what the future holds. I do not know if I will marry Auberon or not. If we did marry, could I be happy living in a cottage with an artist who has no desire for more in life? I don’t know. But I do know that my feelings for Auberon are real, and they deserve to be explored.”
Bellamira reached over and squeezed Isoline’s hand. “Your words would surely be able to move even a heart of stone.”
“I do not believe you have a stone heart, aunt,” Isoline said with a small laugh. “I believe you have a gentle one you only try hard to protect.”
Now it was Bellamira’s turn to laugh. “No one has ever dared to accuse me of having a kind heart. The only woman with any softness to dwell within Thronrush Manor for two centuries has been you.”
Isoline’s heart swelled at her aunt’s words.
“But be careful, my darling,” Bellamira said. “There are many who would prey on a sweetness such as yours.”
“I had no idea Tristan would turn out to be such a…a blaggard!” Isoline dared to say.
“Tristan is only one of many,” Bellamira said. “Though Mr. Dracoia is not one of them. He is truly a gem among the pebbles.”
Isoline looked at Auberon, who had stood politely quiet as the two women spoke.
“I believe he is one of the good ones,” Isoline said proudly.
Bellamira nodded and stood, her maid holding her arm. “Then I give him permission to call on you in a more formal capacity,” she said. “Though we shall keep your father in the dark for a little while longer.”
“Oh, thank you, dear auntie!” Isoline said, rushing over and giving Bellamira a hug.
Bellamira patted her niece on the shoulder but then shrugged her away. “There, there. No need for such an outpouring.”
Isoline released her aunt from her grip. Aub
eron approached and gave Bellamira a bow.
“Thank you, your ladyship,” he said.
Bellamira sucked in a breath, as though she might cry. But she waved him off as she turned away. “Just keep everything above reproach,” she admonished.
“We will, auntie,” Isoline said as Auberon took her hand and kissed her cheek. “We promise.”
Chapter Fourteen
Isoline watched the scenery pass through the carriage window as it whizzed toward town. She took in a deep breath of fresh air and felt the sun warm her face.
“You seem to be in a good mood,” Bess observed.
“I am,” Isoline said with a smile. “For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel…” She paused as she tried to put a finger on this new feeling of contentment. There had been days since she came to Thornrush Manor when she felt happy. But this was new. This was stronger. This had permanence to it. For the first time, she could imagine the future beyond tomorrow.
“Safe,” she finally settled on. “I feel safe, secure. My life is not just here and now, but I feel like I can finally plan for the future.”
“Even after what happened with Mr. Tristan?” Bess asked, concern knitted on her brow. “You feel safe after that?”
Isoline did feel a twinge of queasiness in her stomach at the memory of Tristan and what he had tried to do. But she shook her head to dispel the memory.
“Tristan is gone,” she said confidently. “We don’t need to worry or fear him. Auntie has banished him and Auberon would do him great harm if he tried to come near us again.”
Bess chuckled. “I believe that’s true,” she said. “He had a monstrous fury in his eyes as he held him to the fireplace. He’d do anything to protect you.”
Isoline’s cheeks warmed at the knowledge. She had never known such protection, such devotion from a man. Even her own father would sell her down the river if he thought it would benefit the family. She sighed and shook her head.
“Let us have no more talk or worry of men,” she said. “We are going to have a lovely day.”
She admitted to herself that she was a little nervous that Tristan might be attending church that day as well, but she knew that he couldn't hurt her. If he even tried to approach her, Auberon would find out about it. Isoline had asked Auberon to attend church with her, if for no other reasons but to put rumors to rest that she had been courted by Tristan. But he laughed at the prospect. “The whole world is my church,” he said. “And I worship whatever I see.” She had seen the way he admired the view and knew his words to be true.
But she had also sent a note the previous day to the vicar and requested they have luncheon together with his family. She hoped the opportunity would arise where she could correct any ill-conceived notions about her and Tristan. She would probably avoid mentioning her relationship with Auberon as well. No need to alert the community about something that was only just beginning. Should they become formally engaged, she be so happy she would alert the newspapers herself. But until then, she preferred to keep her new romance private.
They arrived only a few minutes before the service began—by design, so that Isoline wouldn’t have to associate with Tristan should he make an appearance. But as she surveyed the congregants, she was glad to see he was not among them. Once again, she was warmly greeted by the vicar and his wife, but the rest of the parishioners kept her at a cool distance. She tried to not take this indifference personally. After all, they didn’t know her or how long she would be in town. Was she merely a treasure hunter or a valuable member of the community? They probably thought it best to observe her for a while before reaching out. Hopefully, her luncheon with the vicar’s family would convince everyone that she was someone worth welcoming into the fold.
As she made her way into the church and to a seat, she kept a warm smile on her face in the hopes that she would appear friendly and welcoming. A few people gave her polite nods in return, which was at least more than she received on her last visit to town.
After the sermon, she once again waited in line to thank the vicar and his wife.
“I heard she broke his heart,” a voice behind her said, and Isoline new instantly they were talking about her and Tristan.
“He can hardly leave his home for the shame of it,” another woman said.
“Ungrateful and cruel,” another voice said. “If I could hook a handsome, respectable lord like that, I’d snatch him up without a second thought.”
Isoline could not stand by silently this time and turned to face the gossiping ninnies.
“Then I wish you would,” Isoline said. “Then maybe he would finally leave me alone.”
For a moment, the women stood shocked into silence. But then they laughed.
“I suppose a great heiress like you doesn’t have to worry about the feelings of a man like Tristan,” one of the women said snidely. “Just string him along and then cut him loose when it suits you.”
“I never strung him along,” Isoline said calmly. “I made it clear from the first day that I would only ever think of him as a cousin.”
“And what about Lord Crowden?” another woman asked with a raised eyebrow. “Did you tell him he could be a cousin too?”
Isoline started for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Of course the ladies, and everyone else in town, would know about Cyril. She just hadn’t expected the incident to be thrown in her face so cruelly. It was certainly uncouth.
“Lord Crowden is a good man,” Isoline said. “And I wish him the greatest happiness.”
The ladies’ mouths gaped like fish. They certainly had not been expecting that response. Isoline’s options of what to do next flashed through her mind. Should she continue to correct them? Call them out for their nasty behavior? Offer an olive branch?
“But if you would like to know the truth of the matter,” Isoline continued, “please call on me at Thornrush Manor. I’d love to host you for tea.”
The ladies released a collective breath Isoline didn’t realize they had been holding. They too must have been anxious about what her next move was going to be.
“In all my years, I’ve never seen the inside of Thornrush Manor,” one of the women said as her face softened into something of a smile. “I would love to call on you, Miss Beresford.”
Isoline offered her hand to shake. “Please, call me Isoline,” she said.
The other ladies introduced themselves with the names Bess had told her on their previous trip, but she, of course, didn’t bring up the unpleasant rumors about them she had been told. She wasn’t sure how her aunt would respond to having the women in her parlor, but she would be sure to let her know in advance that they were coming so it wouldn’t be a shock.
After Isoline made her way through the receiving line, she waited outside until the vicar and his family were ready to take her to their home for lunch. No one else approached her, but she watched as the ladies she had spoken to made their way around to the other parishioners, whispering what little they had learned to their friends and husbands, who then looked at Isoline and gave her a smile that was friendlier than previously. She hoped that when she returned the next weekend, the community would be more anxious to get to know her.
“Nothing dispels rumors more quickly than the truth,” Beatrice, the vicar’s wife, said as she bounced a little girl on her knee.
“Perhaps,” Isoline said as she finished the fish that had been served for luncheon. “But sometimes letting people believe what they want is easier than exposing old wounds.”
“You don’t want people to know about Lord Crowden?” Beatrice asked.
Isoline shrugged. “They will know,” she said. “But I don’t want to have to explain it for the rest of my life. I’m ready to move on.
The vicar and his wife laughed.
“I think that people will continue to enjoy the gossip of many subjects long after the rest of us wish they were forgotten,” the vicar said.
Isoline shook her head as a housekeeper cleared a
way her plate. “That is surely truth,” she said. “The last time I was here, those women were gossiping about Aunt Bellamira, and she hasn’t left her house for ages.
The vicar poured himself and Isoline a small glass of port, but Beatrice declined.
“Your aunt is a unique matter,” the vicar said. “People will always wonder about the Grande Dame living in the mansion on the hill.”
Isoline nodded and sipped her drink. “I do suppose that is true. I can’t blame people for being curious.”
“Curious, no,” Beatrice said. “But unkind, certainly. You did a lovely thing by inviting them to tea.”
“I only hope they genuinely want to be friends and not just come to gawk at my aunt and her home,” Isoline said.
“I think it may start out as the latter,” Beatrice said honestly as she exchanged one child on her lap for another. “But let us pray it then becomes the former.”
“It might take a great deal of patience on your part, Isoline,” the vicar said, “to cultivate friendships in such a small community. I dare say even we struggle to find true companions.”
“You must be joking,” Isoline said. “I would think the vicar’s family would be the social center.”
“Alas, no,” the vicar said. “I grew up here, it is true, but I was gone for many years to university. And I returned dragging Beatrice in tow.” The two of them looked at each other adoringly. “My father…well, let’s just say he had quite a reputation in town that I have yet to quite overcome.”
“How do you cope?” Isoline asked. “Feeling like outcasts in your own home?”
“We do have some very dear friends,” Beatrice said, taking over for her husband. “But they took many years and much patience to form. It may take a lot of work for you to be accepted here, but it will be worth it in the end.”
“Marrying a local man would be the easy route,” the vicar said, but his quick laugh reassured Isoline he was only speaking in jest.
“Martin!” Beatrice shrieked. “You are terrible!”
“I…I am not completely against the idea of marrying one day,” Isoline said, looking deep into her goblet. “I only don’t want to be pushed into it with someone I detest.”
Dangerous Passions Page 14
