Page 14 of A Widowed Earl’s Chance at Love (Whispers of Regency Love)

Chapter 14

Henry watched as Isabelle’s wrist slowly slipped from the man’s hand. The angry look in her betrothed’s eyes hardly intimidated him as he pulled Isabelle into the middle of the floor. Placing his hand on her waist, he gripped her fingers and stared into her eyes as he waited for the string quartet to start.

The air seemed loaded with anticipation as they both waited to see what would happen next.

Soft music filled the air as they began to move easily and effortlessly, as if they were walking on clouds.

“You came,” Isabelle whispered almost breathlessly, her cheeks filling with colour as she gazed into his eyes.

Had she been anticipating his arrival even though she had said goodbye in a letter?

“I found your note at the Evergreen.” He pulled her slightly closer, holding her gently out of fear of hurting her delicate frame. She felt like a feather in his arms, soft and gentle, susceptible to the slightest breeze.

Her lips parted slightly when he spun her around and brought her back in. Their eyes spoke a thousand words without the need for more. He wondered what she was thinking and if she regretted sending the note.

He wasn’t even sure what he had been thinking when he put on his finest suit. The emerald fabric shone in the shimmering light of the chandelier as they moved. All he knew was that he had felt the need to get to Isabelle before the cad she was about to marry snuffed out the flame in her soul.

Hurried whispers reached his ears above the music as he tightened his fingers over hers.

“Who is that?”

“Isn’t that the son-in-law of Lord and Lady Fitzgibbon?”

“It can’t be; he hasn’t left home in years.”

The hushed words meant nothing to him as he felt Isabelle tightening her grip on his hand.

What is she thinking?

He looked deep into her eyes, feeling his pulse race when she took a deep breath. She was more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. Despite the hideous colour of her dress, her cheeks were flushed with colour while her eyes sparkled magnificently. She was like the diamond in the rough after an endless day of digging in the dirt.

Their breathing seemed to be in sync as their movements matched in perfect synchronicity.

Tearing his gaze away from hers, he looked to her betrothed, violently whispering to the man he assumed was Isabelle’s brother. His hands flailed about in the air as if he were expecting the man to stop the dance mid-song.

The baron looked intently at them, watching their every move as he seemed to be putting things together in his mind. He looked so much like Isabelle that Henry wondered if he was anything like his sister.

He didn’t seem fazed at all by the man at his side but rather mesmerized by what his sister was doing.

“Why did you come?” Isabelle drew his attention back to their dance. Her voice carried a note of confusion amidst the soft lilt.

I could listen to her speak for a thousand years.

He moved his fingers over hers, feeling the softness of her skin.

“I wanted to see you again. I didn’t like the way the story was ending.” He wanted more than anything to pull her against his chest and tell her that everything would be fine.

He wanted to say he would protect her from the evil prince, but how could he when he wasn’t even a side character in her main story?

“There isn’t anything that I can do about that.” Her voice quivered slightly as she sighed. The fear and panic in her eyes tugged at his chest. If what he had seen was a preview of the rest of her life, he didn’t blame her at all for being scared.

Flexing his fingers on her waist, he spun her around, pulling her back as the rest of the ton faded into the background. “Let’s not think about that right now. Just focus on the dance.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla.

Nothing was more beautiful to him than the delicate way she moved in his arms. She was like a breath of fresh air after a cool summer shower.

Her eyes locked on his gaze, conveying a silent understanding as they danced their troubles away. Nothing needed to be said anymore as both of them got lost in the richness of the waltz.

Time and rationality stood still as everything else in the world lost its meaning. Two hearts melded as one, reaching out to one another in a desperate plea for absolution.

He was just about to lean in when Isabelle shut her eyes, tilting her head slightly to the side as she took a deep breath.

The music ended, bringing with it a moment of clarity as Henry blinked back the thoughts in his mind.

What am I doing?

Isabelle opened her eyes, widening them in shock, when she realized what had almost occurred between them. Her pulse beat a little faster beneath his grip as she held her breath.

Henry suddenly became all too aware of the fact that a hushed silence had fallen on the room. Stepping away, he cleared his throat and watched as Isabelle cast her eyes to her feet, allowing her naturally long lashes to brush against her cheeks.

“Isabelle …” her brother suddenly spoke up, reaching for her hand as he pulled her away.

Her eyes remained on Henry as she allowed herself to be dragged from the ball. Fear and longing mingled with the same confusion that Henry felt within his soul.

All eyes were on him now as Isabelle disappeared, leaving him alone in the middle of the floor to face the hordes.

What have I done?

He suddenly felt anxious as his gaze fell on the man arguing with Isabelle. His bright blue eyes darkened with rage as he clenched his jaw and stood up straight.

Taking his cue from the deathly silence, Henry set out towards the exit, walking with ease as the crowd parted like the sea before him.

Everyone treated him like a lepper, taking at least five steps away from his path. Judgement loomed heavily in their eyes, following him closely out the hall.

He hadn’t been planning on interrupting Isabelle’s evening, yet he hadn’t been able to contain his rage when he saw how she was being treated.

The man carried on as if she were a possession rather than his bride. He had been paying close attention to everything until the man had gripped her wrist and held her back.

Every fibre of his being had wanted to knock some sense into him but doing that would only have caused Isabelle more harm than good. Instead, he’d moved her away from him as quickly as he could.

The look of surprise in her eyes had made his chest ache. She had been so relieved to see him that he had almost taken her hand and ran for the door.

What then? he asked himself as he stepped into the cool evening air and began to walk. He wouldn’t be able to sweep her away to the country and offer her a sanctuary to live, not without marrying her first …

The thought stopped him in his tracks, and he froze. Never in a million years did he think he would ever get married again, and that hadn’t changed. Shaking his head, he headed straight towards the gentlemen’s club. At least, there, he would be able to clear his mind.

***

The dimly lit room calmed his nerves as Henry settled in his favourite chair. Hardly anyone ever chose the spot in the corner. The hustle and bustle mainly centred around the middle of the room, where a large billiards table took up the bulk of the space.

He called her a whore.

Rage filled his mind as he thought back on the events of the evening and how shamefully her betrothed had treated her. Men like Lord James should never be granted the option of taking a wife. If he had his way, he would have all like-minded men locked in the prisons where they belonged.

Henry was about to call for a footman when his name rang out across the room.

“Hey! Look who it is! It’s my old pal Henry Montague!”

Henry sighed when Lord Hampton came stumbling towards him with a drink in his hand. Large drops spilled over the rim of the glass as he ambled forward, creating stains on his suit as well as the carpet underfoot.

“Where the devil have you been man? You left so abruptly the other night that we hardly had a chance to speak.” Alfred hiccupped, falling into an adjacent chair and sloshing amber liquid over his suit.

The heavy scent of spirits filled Henry’s senses, making him wince as he spoke. “I take it you haven’t left?” he asked irritably, drawing his lower lip into his mouth.

Laughing uproariously, Alfred threw back his head. “If I had things my way, I would never leave,” he finally managed to say through his laughter while shaking his head and swallowing the remnants of his wasted drink.

“And what of your bride to be. Will she be happy with your presence here?” Henry snapped, clutching the armrests of his chair. The weight of living in an unfair society where women were nothing more than mere commodities was beginning to wear on him.

Frowning deeply, Alfred seemed to sober up slightly. “Do you think I am a terrible man, Lord Henry?” he asked in a somewhat more even tone.

Regarding the man’s drinking in a new light, Henry cocked his head to the side. “That depends, Lord Hampton. Do you think of yourself as a bad man? It matters not what I think but what you think of yourself.”

The man blinked a few times as he struggled to focus his eyes. “Sometimes I honestly can’t tell. Do I want to marry the young lass with her golden locks and abundant innocence? No, I can’t say that I do. I have been forced into a corner by her father. I am to marry his daughter or lose the chance of improving my finances.” Alfred shrugged, catching Henry off-guard. “And if I don’t, he will just fob her off to the next sorry excuse of a man who comes along.”

Henry had been resenting the man under the assumption that Alfred wanted to marry. It had never occurred to him that the man who had become an acquaintance had more difficult circumstances than he realized. “I would not marry the girl unless I could provide her with everything that her heart desired. And if I found myself with little to no choice in the matter, I would at least spend the rest of my life ensuring that I make her happy, in part if not fully. She’s already at the mercy of her father; there is no need for her husband to do the same.”

Tears suddenly welled in the man’s eyes as he placed the glass beside him on a small table. “You are a good man, Henry. I wish I were half the man that you are. I let myself get sucked into the business proposition of a lifetime, but since I saw you the other evening, I can’t help thinking how evil I am being. Even if I wanted to call things off now, the girl’s reputation would be ruined.” He hung his head in shame, speaking more clearly as if he had been putting on an act.

It took Henry a moment to realize that he’d judged the man a little too harshly the last time they had spoken. Unlike himself, Alfred had never longed for a life spent in solitude, but that didn’t mean his actions were justified.

“What should I do?” Alfred looked up with a sorrowful look in his eyes, seeming more lost than ever before.

“You go back home. Sober up and stop drinking to numb the pain. It’s too late now to back out by your own admission; you will ruin the girl if you don’t go through with the agreement,” Henry answered as honestly as he could, watching the man closely to see if he were taking any of it in.

The man seemed inebriated, but not so much so that he wasn’t able to control himself. “And after that?” Lord Hampton seemed to be sobering up as they spoke.

What happens after that?

Henry found himself thinking of his own predicament and the choices he had made. If he could have gone back in time, he reasoned with himself that he wouldn’t have done anything differently. The look in Isabelle’s eyes when he had saved her meant the world to him.

Taking a moment to consider his position, Henry looked him in the eyes. “You try and be the best husband that you possibly could. Speak kindly to her and listen to what she has to say. Never hurt her in any way, physically or otherwise. She has been thrust into this situation against her will. You can either be a blessing or a curse on her life; choose to be a blessing.”

He couldn’t help thinking that he had been the curse in Isabelle’s life when all he had wanted to be was the blessing.

The best of intentions can sometimes lead to the detriment of others.

A strange look that closely resembled understanding flashed across the man’s face before he stood. “Well, I think you have given me a great deal to think about. I had better get home and sober up.” He ran his hand over his tired face while wobbling a little.

Henry nodded, realizing he had made more of an impression on the man than he had even realized.

“I will see you again, Henry.” Lord Hampton waved over his shoulder as he ambled from the room.

At least I could help one young girl.

The scared look in Isabelle’s eyes flashed across his mind as he gestured for a footman to bring him a glass of brandy. He had tried to be a good husband to his late wife, yet she had rejected his affections.

At least he knew now that he could try and make the world a better place for one young girl, even if it wasn’t Isabelle Sutton.

Chugging the brandy, he stood before handing the empty glass back to the stunned footman who watched him leave.

Nothing good ever came of drinking a person’s troubles away. Lord Hampton was a sterling example of that.

He left the club and ambled towards his home, hoping to find even a shred of clarity in the cool evening breeze. There wasn’t much that could be done about the evening – that ship had sailed.

People would spread the gossip like wildfire before the sun had time to rise in the morning. He would need to decide what his next plan of action would be.

Leave the ton and Isabelle forever or stay and fight to keep her friendship.