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twenty-one

I sabella couldn’t stop shivering as she walked to Gloucester House with Lawson.

Patrick was a gentleman. He would marry her even though they weren’t in love. They’d spent a lot of time together, and he was leaving for a long journey. Their sudden marriage wouldn’t surprise anyone. She might go with him to Europe and visit Paris as he’d said. The situation might turn into a great opportunity and a new beginning.

Lawson touched her arm. “You must be strong.”

“Everything is a bit too much.” Her voice sounded different as if it didn’t belong to her.

Lawson shook her head. “What were you—” She fell silent, exhaling. “There’s no point in scolding you now. It is what it is.”

“Trust me, I perfectly understand my situation.”

Lady Mary had impressed on her clearly what her future would be if she didn’t get married.

Lawson knocked on the door of Gloucester House, trembling as well.

“Gloucester House,” Rogers said, opening the door. “Lady Isabella. I didn’t know you were expected today.” He held the door open for her.

“This is an unplanned visit.” As many other unplanned things. “Is Lord Patrick at home? I need to talk to him.”

The butler frowned. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Lord Patrick left for Southampton last night. He had to bring up his departure due to a problem with the railway. He’s likely already on board the ship bound for Cabo Verde. He should have sent you a message, I believe.”

The floor quaked under Isabella’s feet.

“I didn’t get any messages.”

“I’m sorry, my lady. Lord Patrick’s departure was quite abrupt. He might have forgotten.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to another. Her legs threatened to give out. “Thank you.”

“Rogers, I need to send for my secretary—” Anthony came out of a door and stopped upon seeing her.

Her first impulse was to flee the house. He would be disappointed if he knew what she’d done.

Lawson hid a gasp behind her closed fist.

He didn’t wear any mask, his hair didn’t cover his face, and the bright sunlight hit his scar. It was a huge scar. It had the shape of a lily with the petals stretching out under his left eye, towards his temple, and down his cheek, as if someone had tried to open his face by pulling the flesh apart.

She understood Lawson’s reaction but gave her a warning glance. “Your Grace.”

“Lady Isabella was looking for Lord Patrick, Your Grace,” Rogers said. “I told her he left earlier than planned.”

Anthony ignored Lawson and smiled at Isabella. “Please stay for a cup of tea or coffee, Isabella.”

She needed a cup, and his company would do her good. She took a seat at a round table in the sunroom, glad to sit down. Lawson sat on a chair in a corner, tense and pale.

“I believe Patrick sent you a message,” Anthony said as the butler served the drinks.

“I must have missed it.”

“Or he forgot. I wouldn’t be surprised. Anything urgent?”

“Nothing of importance.”

They stirred their drinks in silence. The sound of the teaspoons against the porcelain thundered.

“We haven’t spent some time together in a while.” Anthony smiled but stopped immediately as if regretting having tried. The ruined skin on his left side twitched, making the scar more evident. “I’ve been awfully busy catching up with my work.”

A bitter taste filled her mouth when she sipped the coffee despite the sugar, cream, and cinnamon. “I understand.”

He cleared his throat. “You look upset. Something happened.”

Was it that obvious?

“Is it me?” he asked. “I understand if?—”

“Good gracious, no!” Her voice strengthened. “I’m not upset with you.”

His green eyes brightened. “So what troubles you?”

“Please do not worry.”

The answer saddened him if the way he lowered his eyebrows was any indication. “I can be of help. Or maybe Patrick’s departure upset you.”

“Oh, no. I mean, I’ll miss him, but I’m just tired.” She rubbed her forehead. In truth, she did feel peculiar, and the coffee smelt horribly.

“You’re pale.”

“I walked here. Perhaps it’s that.” The room tilted, and she closed her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them, a dark halo appeared at the edge of her field of vision. She stood up, but her head became light, and her knees buckled.

* * *

Anthony grabbed Isabella before she collapsed. “Isabella!”

“My lady.” The maid hurried to help.

He gathered Isabella in his arms and laid her on the sofa. “Is she sick?”

“No, Your Grace.” Her voice cracked, though. “Lady Isabella didn’t have lunch today, and we walked all morning. Just that. A moment of fatigue.”

“I’ll send for my physician.”

“Not necessary, Your Grace.”

“Lady Isabella needs help.”

Lawson paled. “It’s nothing. Please, trust me, Your Grace.”

Isabella blinked her eyes open. Her cheeks remained pale. She tried to sit up, but he stopped her.

“Lie down. You fainted.”

She exhaled. “I’m sorry to cause you trouble.”

“Not at all. Lawson, ask Rogers to bring a repast. Something to help Lady Isabella feel better.”

“Immediately.” The maid exchanged a glance with Isabella before leaving the room.

He held Isabella’s hand, checking her pulse. “I’ll have a carriage ready to escort you home.”

“I can hail a cab.”

“No.”

She gripped his hand with surprising strength. “Anthony.”

He stroked her trembling fingers. “What is it?”

Lawson returned with a tray of oat biscuits. “My lady, have one.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Lawson insisted. “Only one. You’ll feel better.”

Anthony sat on the chair, waiting for Isabella to finish eating. If he didn’t know better, he would say she was scared. He wasn’t surprised she didn’t confide in him. He’d shunned her for weeks. The relationship they’d built had barely started again.

She chewed the biscuit slowly. “I’m already better. Thank you.”

“You’re still pale, and your pulse is slow.”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

He didn’t know what to think. Something had happened to her before coming here, but he wouldn’t insist.

“Your Grace,” Rogers said, “the carriage is ready.”

“Good.” He helped Isabella up. “I’ll accompany you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. Rogers, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Rogers’s mouth dropped open. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Going out was a shock for Anthony as well. He’d managed to go to the House of Lords a couple of times, but aside from that, he didn’t leave the house.

He’d meant to invite Isabella for a walk after their last encounter at the march, but work had truly overwhelmed him.

She leant against him as he walked her out. He hesitated outside the door. The usual grey London weather had been swapped with an unseasonably bright day that had no mercy on him. The sunlight was determined to expose all his ugliness. But he had no intention of leaving Isabella alone. He could ask a footman to escort her, and Lawson was present, but he wanted to do it himself. He ran a hand through his hair to let the curls fall over his scar.

He lowered the curtain of the window once in the carriage, blocking the ruthless sun.

“It’s not as scary as you think,” she whispered.

He smiled ruefully. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“I truly mean it. It doesn’t bother me.”

Aside from Grandmama and Patrick, she was the first person to tell him that. Many people were scared of making any comments about his face. Others showed their disgust in their stares. But she was the first one who gave him her opinion without fear. Her honesty and consideration were some of the best things that had happened to him since the incident. No, since ever.

He helped her out of the carriage when they arrived. She slid her hand into his, and he gripped her fingers for a moment too long.

“I hope to see you soon,” he said. “Have tea with me tomorrow.”

Isabella looked down. “I will.”

He watched her enter the house. Once again, she’d addressed his fears and told him to pull himself together with the simplicity that belonged to her only.

And once again, he was utterly charmed.