Whispers of Light

by Monroe, Jennifer

  “I am married,” she said quietly, “to you. That is all that matters.”

  “Then why do you hide from me?” he asked. “We are to take the smallest of steps in this relationship, and I am willing to do so. However, besides taking meals with me, you either escape out here or retire to your room.”

  Isabel wished to explain to this man the roiling feelings within her, yet how could one put them into words? And yet, the agony she felt at being unable to articulate what was on her heart only increased her overall melancholy.

  “I do not escape from you,” she replied finally. “You must believe that.”

  Laurence sighed. “I do not believe you an outright liar, but I cannot help but believe you are not speaking the full truth. That day we went riding together? Before we were married? I know you enjoyed that outing. I just find it odd you do not wish to do so again.”

  Isabel placed her hand on his. “If you wish to join me tomorrow, I would be happy to go riding with you.”

  “I only wish you to be happy,” he said, pulling his hand away. “I am doing what I can to make that possible, but I cannot do it alone. I need your help.”

  The pleading in his eyes tugged at her heartstrings, and at this moment, she wanted nothing more than to please him, even if it meant doing something she did not wish to do. “Tomorrow, then,” she said with a smile, “you shall teach me to paint. Unless you no longer wish to? I would not blame you if you did not. I know I have been…difficult.”

  “You do not need to do that just to appease me,” he replied. “And you have not been difficult. Our marriage was sudden, and you clearly did not want it, but I will do whatever it takes to please you.”

  Why this man tried so hard to make her happy, she did not know, but she could not help but recognize how exceedingly gracious he was to her. If he wished her to paint, then she would allow him to teach her. Not only would she learn, but she would appear to find great joy in doing so.

  “I do wish to learn,” she replied with a smile. “I must admit, it was your paintings that kept me from agreeing before.” When he gave her a confused look, she added, “You are a gifted painter. How will I ever compare?”

  He laughed. “I am no great master, but I believe you have the capacity to be.”

  “Is that so?” she asked in surprise.

  “Indeed. You have a strength about you, a strength that can be transferred from the brush and onto the canvas.”

  “In that case, I look forward to it.” What he was doing for her was more than she could have ever expected, and a desire to do something for him rose inside her. “I have a favor to ask of you, as well.”

  “Whatever you desire,” he replied.

  “An invitation came today to a party my mother is planning for Juliet on Friday. She will be eighteen—a very important age—and friends and family are coming together in order to celebrate.”

  “That is wonderful,” he said. He hesitated, his hand moving to his leg. “I wish I could attend, but a prior engagement for business has been arranged for some time now…”

  Isabel took his hand in hers and smiled. “No one will judge you, I promise. Certainly not I nor my sisters.” She could see the reluctance in his eyes. “Attending a party for one’s birthday is much like painting.”

  “Oh?” Laurence asked with clear amusement.

  “Indeed. You must take the strength from within and transfer it when you appear among the guests. And you, my husband, have that strength. I believe you will be the most welcomed of guests.”

  This made Laurence laugh, and Isabel felt a sense of relief wash over her when he agreed to attend the party.

  And as they continued to talk as the sun lowered in the horizon, Isabel found that her worries were not as great as they had been before Laurence had joined her for that glass of wine.

  ***

  For the first time in a month, Isabel returned to Scarlett Hall. As she stood looking at the building that was her childhood home, she found it all the more magnificent than ever before. The sun shone, its rays warming the dark gray stone and gleaming off its many windows. She closed her eyes and imagined her father returning home from one of his many business trips and she, as a young child, rushing out the front door to throw herself into his waiting arms.

  He always returned bearing gifts, as well. A small trinket, a sweet known only to a local village, and although she always cherished whatever he brought her, it was seeing him again that lifted her spirits.

  However, her father was dead, and she was no longer a little girl.

  “Isabel?” Laurence asked, interrupting her thoughts, and she opened her eyes once again. “Is everything all right?”

  She went to respond, but the front door opened, and her sisters burst through, squealing as they bounded down the steps to greet her. Juliet was the first to wrap her arms around Isabel, followed by Hannah.

  “Oh, we have missed you so!” Juliet cried.

  “I have missed you both, as well,” Isabel said with a laugh. “And the most happiest of days to you,” she added as she brushed back a curl that had fallen from Juliet’s many hairpins.

  The door opened again, and Isabel thought she would faint when she saw who stepped out.

  “Nathanial?” she gasped. Where was the young boy who would follow her around the house? In his place stood a young man of thirteen, his wavy blond hair and perfect smile staring back at her. Then he rushed down the steps and into her arms. “I cannot believe you are here! I have missed you terribly. How is school?”

  He laughed as he stepped back from her embrace. “School is going well enough,” he replied. “And I missed you, too.” He glanced around at all of his sisters. “I have missed all of you. It is so good to be home.”

  “Are you not enjoying school?” Isabel asked as she threaded her arm through his. “They are not mistreating you, are they?”

  “Oh, nothing like that,” Nathanial replied. “I just miss being home is all.”

  Isabel knew how he felt. She remembered spending time at Mrs. Downs’ School for Young Ladies when she was Nathanial’s age, and she could not wait to return home. Hannah and Juliet had been lucky enough not to be forced to live away from home after their parents realized that they could teach their daughters what they needed to know themselves without the extra cost of a boarding school. Isabel did not hold any grudges for being forced to spend time away from her home and family, but it had taken her several years to recover from her annoyance her sisters did not have to go through what she had been forced to endure.

  A clearing of a throat made them all turn to where their mother stood at the top of the stairs. “We have a guest; behave accordingly.”

  Isabel gasped. How could she have forgotten Laurence? Shame washed over her as she turned and smiled at him. “I am sorry,” she said. “I suppose I have missed my family more than I had thought. Nathanial, this is my husband Laurence Redbrook, Duke of Ludlow. You remember him, do you not?”

  Nathanial gave Laurence a deep bow. “I do. Congratulations on your marriage. I’m sorry I was unable to attend; I had exams.”

  Laurence gave a hearty laugh. “I remember those days,” he said merrily. “I understand that you are attending Eaton; that is the same school I attended in my day. Is Master Greenbriar still teaching mathematics there?”

  “He is,” Nathanial replied with a grimace. “As a matter of fact…”

  Isabel smiled as the two conversed about their school experiences, and soon everyone made their way into the house. However, when her eyes met those of her mother, Isabel’s smile faded.

  “I am glad you came,” her mother said. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

  Isabel nodded. She had nothing to say to this woman, so she went to move around her, but her mother placed a hand on her arm. “I know you are angry with me. Please do not be.”

  “Today is Juliet’s birthday,” Isabel replied, her voice rimmed with ice. “There is nothing more to discuss beyond that.” It pained her to s
peak to her mother in such a manner, but the hurt inside was too great to push aside. If they discussed what her mother had done, it would not be today, for to do so would only ruin Juliet’s day, and Isabel was not willing to allow that to happen.

  If it makes you feel any better,” her mother said as they stepped into the foyer, “all the debt was paid off yesterday. Scarlett Hall has been saved, and you are the person who saved it.”

  Isabel narrowed her eyes. “Then see to it that you do not bring about ruin again,” she snapped. “Unless you plan on selling either Hannah or Juliet in order to cover those debts, as well.”

  Her mother winced, and Isabel felt a sense of satisfaction. However, the sensation was short-lived, for regret replaced it almost immediately. To be so hurtful was not in her nature, and she knew she should apologize to her mother.

  Before she could do so, Nathanial called out to her. “Isabel! Please hurry. I want to have a piece of cake, but Hannah won’t let me.”

  “I am coming,” she said. She took one last moment to glance at her mother and then hurried to the drawing room, leaving her mother—and the bad memories—behind.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As a duke, Laurence was expected to be an articulate speaker, an avid conversationalist, and the man others held in esteem. However, despite these expectations, he could not help but feel intimidated as he stood in the drawing room of Scarlett Hall surrounded by the dozen or so guests, most much younger than he and with whom he had never been acquainted. They laughed and whispered amongst themselves, and in those hurried words, he feared they spoke about him, of how he was half a man because he could not walk upright with pride and honor. Of the fact that he lacked the attributes that made him a duke.

  Perhaps they wondered how a woman as lovely and outspoken as Isabel could agree to marry a man such as he. His reply could have been it was because she loved him, but that was simply not the truth. She had married him in order to save her family home, a marriage of convenience, and although it was not uncommon to marry for this reason, somehow it felt odious, for he had always wished to marry for love. For so many years, he worried that women only saw what was in his coffers and not what he had to offer, and, in the end, that is exactly what he received. Life was certainly ironic.

  The fact of the matter was that Laurence could not recall many of the peerage who had married in love. Although that emotion had eluded him and Isabel, Laurence believed that one day they would at least gain a mutual affection for one another.

  Isabel stood beside Nathanial, and Laurence had never seen her smile so broadly or laugh so gaily. Perhaps they should have the boy over for dinner some night while he was home from school, for if he could make her smile where Laurence was unable, it would be worth the time spent.

  Isabel laughed once more and then turned. Their eyes met, and Laurence could not stop his smile from growing. It had been the power of her smile that had captivated him that day of their outing, that drove away the fear that had gripped him moments before, and he silently swore that he would do what he could to make her happy. No expense was too great. No request too outlandish.

  A moment later, she whispered something to her brother and then joined Laurence. “I apologize for leaving you alone,” she said with a smile. “I was so absorbed in my conversation with Nathanial that I am afraid I neglected you.”

  “No. He is your brother, and I would expect you to spend time with him. I imagine you have much to discuss since he has been away at school.”

  “Indeed,” she replied. “Mother sent him off much too young, in my opinion. He has attended Eton only two years, and he returns home three times a year; however, it seems he has been gone much longer. For as long as I have been gone from here…”

  Her voice trailed off, and Laurence had a better understanding of how much she missed Scarlett Hall. Then a thought came to him, one that he suspected would please her immensely.

  “How long will Nathaniel be here?” he asked. Juliet and her cousin Annabel laughed in the corner, and when their eyes fell on him and they giggled once more, a flicker of fear went through him. Worry began to knot his stomach, and he worried he would sick up what little he had eaten.

  “Another week,” Isabel replied. “Why do you ask?”

  Laurence swallowed back the bile that rose in the back of his throat and made a pretense of taking a drink of his wine. “Perhaps you should return for a visit before he leaves,” he said when he was certain he would not be sick. “On your own, of course. Or he is welcome to come to Camellia Estates if you’d like.”

  The twinkle in Isabel’s eyes told him her response before she spoke the words. “Oh, that is a wonderful idea!” she said. “Thank you. I will come to visit for a few days before he returns to school. Oh, he will be so pleased.”

  Suddenly, Laurence had a strange urge to kiss this woman. She was giddy with excitement, and her face glowed with pleasure, and all he could do was wonder what it would be like to press his lips to hers at this very moment.

  The thought left him as Lady Lambert approached. “I hope you are enjoying yourself, Your Grace,” she said.

  “I am,” he replied. “Although, I believe that it is Juliet’s enjoyment of the day that is of consequence, not mine. And by her gleefulness, I would say you have exceeded her expectations.”

  Lady Lambert nodded. “I do not mean to burden you, but may I speak to you in private for a moment?”

  “Certainly,” Laurence replied curiously. Then he turned to Isabel. “I will return shortly.”

  “I will be with Nathanial,” Isabel replied, although she shot her mother a strange glare.

  Laurence followed Lady Lambert down the hallway to the study that had once belonged to Lord Lambert. The baroness closed the door behind them and then went to the dark sofa, offering him the seat beside her. “I wanted to thank you for all you have done,” she said. “To know that Nathanial will have a home to inherit, that my daughters will one day…” her words trailed off, and she removed a kerchief from the sleeve of her dress and dabbed at the corner of her eye.

  “I assure you,” Laurence said, “the arrangement has been rewarding to both of us. I find my time with Isabel engaging, and I believe she does, as well.”

  “That is wonderful news,” Lady Lambert said with glee. “I did worry…not that Isabel does not care for you, for I believe she does. Just a mother’s worry is all.”

  Laurence studied the woman for a moment. “Is everything all right? Do you have other concerns?”

  “No,” the woman replied before giving a heavy sigh. “You spoke of being willing to help me in the matter of business. Our adviser, Mr. Patrick, has gotten on in years, and I am afraid to say that he has become quite senile over the last few months.”

  “I see. Are you in need of a budget drawn? Or advice on your current business holdings and future investments?”

  “I am afraid I am in need of assistance with everything,” she said as she raised her hands as if in defeat. “I do not know what to do. I am afraid all will be lost if I do not do something soon.” The worry she wore on her features matched that of her voice.

  “You have nothing to fear,” Laurence replied with a warm smile. “Have your ledgers sent over to me at your convenience, and anything else you wish me to review. I will look over everything personally and then search out a new adviser who I trust to take over the accounts.”

  She sighed with relief and rose from the sofa. “I do not know how to thank you!”

  Laurence also stood, and a bolt of pain shot down his leg, and he was forced to grab a nearby chair for support.

  “Your Grace!” Lady Lambert said as she hurried over to him.

  “I am all right,” he said, straightening his back, although his leg still pained him. However, the burning of his cheeks hurt more, by far. “It tends to give me problems from time to time. I suppose standing for so long has not helped.”

  “Would you like to rest? I am sure we can set you up in one of the guest rooms
or you are welcome to use the sofa if you would like.”

  “No,” Laurence said all too quickly. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “I appreciate your offer, but I believe it has passed. Let us return to the party.”

  “If you are certain…”

  “I am.”

  He followed the baroness back out into the hallway, doing everything in his power not to reach down and massage his leg despite the fact that the pain increased with each step he took. On most occasions, if the pain was this harsh, he would be forced to lie down for several hours until it subsided, but he could not—no, he would not—do that now.

  And as they reentered the room, it was as if every eye fell on him, and his embarrassment grew tenfold, for he could not keep himself from limping more than usual. He searched the room for Isabel and was surprised when he could not find her. He felt his humiliation deepen and his anger rise. He had not asked much from his wife, but the fact that she chose to leave him alone with a group of people he barely knew was uncalled for.

  He searched the room for a chair, but the closest would force him to walk through the crowd of people. Therefore, he forced a smile, hoping Isabel would return soon. However, as the seconds turned into minutes, his anger only worsened, and all he wanted to do was return home.

  ***

  Isabel had never been happier to be back home. It was as if she had never married and was still living at Scarlett Hall, and she listened intently as Nathanial spoke of his days at Eton School.

  “The headmaster is strict,” Nathanial was saying. “I must admit he is fair. I don’t find myself reprimanded as often as other boys.”

  “That is because you are a good young man,” Isabel said. She ruffled the boy’s hair, and he grimaced and pulled away. “It has been truly wonderful to see you again. I wish you did not have to return to Eton just yet.”

  “But I must,” he said in sudden seriousness. “If I am to take over the dukedom and all of Father’s businesses, I must return and finish my studies.” At times, the boy was as serious as their father had been, which made Isabel want to weep with joy. Coupled with his innocence, he was truly a remarkable young man, even at the age of thirteen.