Page 15 of Revisit the Past (Society of Swans #3)

C aleb gasped. “Why are you here?”

Isabel almost laughed. The scene that met her eyes was too bizarre, the surrounding situation too large in her mind, to permit such levity just yet. She could hardly believe what she was seeing or what she had just overheard.

“I believe I am the one who should be posing that question,” she replied in quiet awe.

Caleb gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing and cheeks reddening. He blinked his beautiful, sweet eyes at her.

“Yes, of course. This is your home and your father’s study. Of course you should be here. Forgive me, please.”

The sensation his familiar voice inspired in her hollow chest forced Isabel to turn her face away quickly. Its depth and warmth spread through that hollow space like a well-worn blanket being unfurled and laid down with care.

Just hours ago, Isabel had begun the work of resigning herself to the possibility that she may never again hear it, or see that inquisitive, sincere gaze or those enchantingly vivid, red waves.

Yet here Caleb Smythe stood, baring his soul to her father and asking for her hand. It was all too much. It was all too…wonderful.

Isabel inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut. When would she awaken from this unfairly convincing dream?

She felt his presence instinctively before she opened her eyes. No other sense but that of her heart would ever be necessary to know the man she loved—had always loved and could never stop loving—was near.

“Isabel…”

Cautious hands hovered just over her bare arms. Isabel could no longer resist. She allowed herself to look at him.

What she saw in his stare made her heart soar. She could feel her lips parting in astonishment and desire and was powerless to stop them.

It had never been more clear. Caleb loved her. He was devoted to her. Isabel could feel that truth in her bones.

Yes, he had loved her in the past, yet the missing years had given a profound depth to the appreciation in his expression. It assured her that she could entrust him with her heart once more…forever.

A gruff cough from the other end of the room distracted the young pair only just enough. Neither of them jumped or removed their focus from the other. They merely turned their heads slightly in acknowledgement.

Mr. Abbott chuckled. “I am touched to have been involved in this sweet moment, but please continue it in the drawing room with your aunt and friends, I beg you.”

“May we walk about the grounds instead?” Caleb asked.

“Keep within view of the house,” answered Papa.

There, in the most unexpected place, her father’s study in sleepy little Bainbridge, Caleb grinned and offered his arm to Isabel as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Isabel grinned back and accepted. It was the most natural thing in the world.

They walked leisurely through Woodruff Hall, assured of finally having all the time together that they desired.

“Here they come!”

“Are they smiling?”

“But I cannot see—”

“Careful, you stepped on my foot!”

“Please do not cry, sweet Mary!”

Eager voices and a shrill whine spilled from the drawing room as the couple approached. They beamed at each other and laughed quietly to themselves. Without exchanging a word, Caleb and Isabel agreed that they wished to revel in their delightfully obvious secret for a while longer.

“It was so thoughtful of you to bring my friends to me. Poor Lord Wrighthall might be experiencing a bit of a shock.” Isabel giggled, imagining the amusing scene unfolding behind the wall.

Caleb chuckled. “I thought you might need them today, either way. But it is all thanks to your aunt for convincing their mothers to allow it, particularly Lady Eldmar. Do not worry on Wrighthall’s account, however. He will manage well enough. You should see the packs of ladies Wrighthall’s mama throws at him.”

When they swept past the open door of the drawing room, five heads peeked out and watched them go with what Isabel assumed was nearly unbearable curiosity. A sixth countenance hovered in the doorframe just behind them, ever watchful and ever hopeful.

The feeling of being by Caleb’s side once more, of knowing that her place would always be by his side, was so sublime that Isabel nearly floated down the grand split staircase that led to the foyer.

“This way, to the back. We shall have better access to the grounds from there,” she said when they’d reached the bottom step.

She also silently hoped that, since the windows in her father’s study and the drawing room faced different directions, no one would come searching back here for a better view of their wanderings.

The gentleman stopped, forcing Isabel to stop alongside him. She looked up, her curiosity growing when she saw the shine in his eyes.

“First, there is something I wish to show you just outside the front doors.”

Isabel arched a brow and followed her dear Caleb silently into the golden late afternoon sunlight and down the front steps. He untangled his arm from hers when they reached his carriage and opened the door.

“Caleb!” She gasped, covering her mouth with a hand, only allowing the barest hint of a tease into her voice.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, spinning around on his heels, a rectangular package clutched to his body. Despite being almost half Isabel’s height, the thing didn’t seem terribly heavy in Caleb’s strong grip.

She pressed her other hand over her heart, reveling in this playful familiarity she’d once thought they would never share again.

“My lord, you cannot simply whisk me away just yet. We are not married. In fact, we are not truly engaged. But I suppose you have intentions to rectify that?”

The handsomest, most animated grin spread across Caleb’s face. “I have every intention to rectify that and much else, miss.”

Without thinking, Isabel’s hand shot out and grasped his forearm. She felt his surprised inhale as his gaze darted down to the spot where she touched him.

“I do not wish for you to spend the remainder of your days kneeling before me, you know. Have we not revisited the past enough? Can we not look forward to the future now? Our future?”

As the words spilled from Isabel, her grip tightened. Perhaps she would simply never let go. It felt too good to have no distance and no barrier between them, not even a glove.

With a soft smile, Caleb angled his face lower until their foreheads almost touched. His eyes held her as a willing captive, enveloping Isabel in a depth of love that mirrored her own.

“I know, sweet Isabel. It is yet another reason you are an angel descended from heaven. But nothing would bring me greater joy than to bring you joy in any way I can. On that note, may I?”

He adjusted the unwieldy package in his arms and Isabel quickly led them around the spacious house to the nearby garden fountain. Warmth radiated through her body when they sat upon one of the firm, stone benches that surrounded the fountain, their backs to the house.

The vibrancy of the world around her fell into perfect harmony with the sheer elation within. Caleb’s hand slowly reached across Isabel’s lap and took hers, threading their fingers together. The feeling of their palms pressed tightly, their thighs and shoulders brushing, took her breath away.

They sat like that for some time, savoring each moment, until eventually Caleb remembered his mysterious gift propped against the end of the bench. He said nothing as he untied the twine and removed the plain, brown paper at what Isabel considered to be a cruelly relaxed pace.

When he caught her angling her head this way and that for a better look, he narrowed his eyes at her over the gift in a playful warning that required no words. Isabel giggled, without tempering her volume or covering her expression.

She was at home, with the man she loved and to whom she would soon be betrothed—if he ever finished unwrapping that thing. Why should she hide this bliss away?

Finally, Caleb dropped the remainder of the brown paper, only to reveal the back of a canvas.

“This here is the only portrait I attempted to paint during my travels—and by far my best work. I met a newly married couple in Scotland, and upon observing me at work in a public square for some time, the husband commissioned me to try a portrait of his wife.”

He turned the canvas to face Isabel. Eyes wide and mouth ajar, she took in the beautiful portrait. Each lovingly made detail was a testament to the skill of the artist…and his fascination with the subject.

“In the end, the couple chose not to take it. It did not bear a strong enough resemblance to the lady, you see.”

Unable to remove her gaze from her own visage, Isabel laughed and shook her head. “Did she bear any resemblance to me?”

Caleb smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Her hair was black, I remember. And her eyes were…blue? Hazel, perhaps. I am sure she was longer of face as well.”

“In short, she may have barely resembled me from a distance,” Isabel summarized, another wonderfully light laugh bubbling up and spilling out.

She took the portrait from Caleb and propped it up on her lap. From this close, she could see each brushstroke and where the oils effortlessly blended together. Layer upon layer, built over time, after much careful study and reflection. It had been a labor of love, indeed.

“I know you heard the majority of what I shared with your father, but I hope you will allow me to echo myself in some fashion, as I believe some points bear repeating.”

Isabel set the portrait back in its wrappings and returned her full attention to the man seated beside her. Her heart swelled and hummed with anticipation as Caleb pressed himself even closer and took both her hands in his.

“I hope this may be proof to you—as it should have been to me—that no matter how far I went, there was no corner of the world where I could live in peace while knowing you still existed somewhere out there without me. I saw you in everyone and everything because I wished so desperately that you were there experiencing it all with me.”

“Dearest Caleb,” Isabel whispered.

She did not know when his face had come close enough that she could feel the heat of her own breath reflected off his skin. One of Caleb’s hands came up to cup her face.

“I have finished with running. I attempted that method and somehow still ended up here before you in the end.”

He paused and let his forehead rest against hers again.

“We were always meant to be here. Together. The vastness of miles and time could not prevent us from finding our way back to each other. I shall always, always cherish your forgiveness in the deepest part of my heart and look ahead with wonder to all that awaits us. Still, I shall always regret being the cause of such sadness.”

“I am not sad now,” Isabel said under her breath. “I can hardly remember that sensation. The contentment you have brought me these past several weeks—excepting the mishaps of the most recent few days—has completely erased all ills of the past. I promise.”

“You are an angel, indeed. You shone your light through my darkest times even when I hid myself as far away as possible.”

Soft, sweet, welcome lips pressed just above the space between Isabel’s brows, often furrowed in thought yet perfectly relaxed now. They remained for a long moment. Isabel breathed into the kiss, into this sliver of time that belonged only to them. When Caleb pulled away, he looked into Isabel’s eyes with an endearingly hopeful resolve.

“If it would be agreeable to you, I hope to share not only my griefs and continued education in the art of healing with you, but my joys as well—which I believe will quickly become innumerable if I am able to secure my chief joy. For none others may exist without it…without you. You are essential to my being.”

Every inch of Isabel’s body sang. Her spirit soared into the bright-blue sky above.

“It is not simply agreeable to me. Nothing could be more perfect. Nothing could better satisfy my greatest dream and most ardent desire since the moment we met at Hyde Park.”

Isabel felt Caleb’s smile. He pulled her closer.

“I love you so very much, Isabel. Always.”

“I love you, too, Caleb. Forever.”

“Will you do me the honor of spending the rest of time with me as my wife?”

Tears flooded Isabel’s eyes. The moment she had been waiting for these four long years had finally arrived. Everything had fallen into place.

“Of course I will.”

With the hand still cradling her face and the other around her waist, Caleb tilted Isabel’s chin up and crushed her to his chest in one fluid movement.

His mouth found hers, a heavenly match. Isabel’s arms slipped around his neck, her fingers into his hair.

Their kiss was slow, deliberate, exquisite. They had no need to rush. It was only their third kiss, yet Isabel marveled at how perfect and natural it already felt. And one day, hopefully soon, she would lose count of them entirely.

Soon the need for air compelled them to break apart, though their arms remained secured around each other in a comfortable hold. Isabel and Caleb smiled at each other, both aglow in resplendent sunlight and unshakable certainty.

They had done it. Despite every indication otherwise, they had weathered the storm and discovered a beautiful future awaiting them as the clouds broke.

“I suppose there are a number of people back in the house on the verge of going mad from anticipation,” Isabel said after another moment of silent enjoyment.

Caleb chuckled and glanced at the looming shape of Woodruff Hall behind them. “I thought I saw some curtains fluttering suspiciously just now.”

Arm in arm, Isabel’s head occasionally coming to rest on Caleb’s shoulder, the newly engaged couple returned to the house at a pace that proved too leisurely for their anxious companions. The eyes of their best friends and beloved family, including Lewis and Maria, flew to Isabel and Caleb.

“Finally, there you are! Will someone please inform us of what is happening?” demanded Felicity the moment they’d stepped foot in the drawing room. She even managed to shoot to her feet in indignation, wobbling for only the briefest second before finding her balance, a hand on her stomach.

“Sister, please be seated and allow them an opportunity to speak.” Mercy groaned from the chair beside her twin.

Before Felicity could decide if she would obey or argue, a hushed gasp rippled through the room. Isabel’s and Caleb’s hands had become intertwined, their expressions no doubt revealing much.

“Thank you all for your patience, and for all you have done in aid of our happiness,” Isabel began. Everything inside her tingled with excitement.

“‘ Our happiness?’” Clara repeated with a squeak.

Isabel offered her elated smile to each of her loved ones in turn, brimming with so many delightful feelings, it proved impossible to distinguish one from the next. Wrighthall, flanked by Isabel’s curious siblings, watched in content stillness. The young ladies clung to each other. Papa and Aunt Matilda did the same. Isabel could not tell which of them was more eager.

“Yes, Caleb and I are engaged!”

Happy tears blinded her as their audience engulfed the pair in resounding congratulations. The world spun too quickly for Isabel to catch her breath. Or perhaps she had Maria, grasping her by both hands and twirling her in circles, to thank for this splendid dizziness. In any case, Isabel did not mind in the least.

Nor did she mind as their brother interrupted to gently pinch her cheek. “Well done, you. It’s about time you remembered that you have a heart and not only a brain,” he said with a teasing chuckle as he stepped aside for Papa.

“Congratulations to Lord Murfield and the future Lady Murfield!” cheered Papa as his strong arms squeezed a giggle from his daughter. The others applauded their hearty agreement.

“I am so thrilled for you, darling. As is your mama, I am sure,” he added in a whisper meant only for Isabel. He tightened his grip around her once more and released her into the care of her five dearest companions.

They swallowed her in a sweet embrace, their arms entangled around each other with Isabel securely in the middle. She received the outpouring of their lifelong love and support with still more tears.

“Thank you, my girls,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “Now that I think of it, I do not know how I will manage without you all so near. If only you and your families could come with us to Berkshire.”

Lydia, to her right, rested her temple against Isabel’s. On her left, Mercy did the same. Clara burrowed her sniffles in Ellen’s neck as the others pulled in even closer, as close as they could manage around Felicity’s growing figure.

“No matter how far apart our paths take us, we shall always be part of each other’s lives,” said Lydia quietly.

“And now we are more tied together than ever thanks to a certain writer,” added Felicity.

Clara lifted her head. “That makes the three of you. Some of us are still waiting on our letters.”

An idea struck Isabel. She pulled away just enough to take a proper look at each of her friends’ beautiful faces. They stared back, curious.

“The rest of you will receive them, I am sure of it. But are we not already our own little club? Like a…society. A society of swans.”

Delight dawned upon five pairs of eyes.

Before any of them could speak, a familiar hand landed upon Isabel’s shoulder. The girls released her. She turned to that gentle touch.

“What a truly wonderful day,” said Aunt Matilda with a proud smile as she returned baby Mary to her mama.

“Thank you, my marvelous aunt, for the role you played in this day, which I intend to hear more about later.”

Aunt Matilda waved a hand. “You give me too much credit, my lovely niece. I am of the firm belief that I merely expedited matters—and not by much, surely.”

The dowager countess paused and looked to the sofa in the middle of the room where Caleb had settled beside Lydia, introducing himself to little Mary. If such a thing were possible, Isabel felt the size of her heart increase tenfold.

“He would not have given you up this time. I always knew he would come for you.”

Isabel eased her hand into Aunt Matilda’s. “I am glad you held to your faith when mine had all but disappeared.”

Happy lines appeared at the corners of Aunt Matilda’s eyes as she chuckled softly and leaned in with a whisper. At that moment, Caleb looked up, perhaps sensing Isabel’s gaze. He excused himself from his conversation with Lydia and Mary, offered his seat to Ellen, who eagerly accepted, and crossed the drawing room. Aunt Matilda excused herself as well.

Isabel’s future husband took her hands and brought them to his chest, holding them against his heart. “What wisdom did your aunt impart on you just now?”

As it did so often when Caleb was near, the rest of the world fell away. She cared not for who might see as she tucked her head under his chin and melted against him.

“There will be times in life when we need those closest to us to keep the faith we cannot. So long as we remember that, we shall never be lost.”

Caleb hummed thoughtfully. “I wish I could marry you today with those very words.”

“As do I. But it shall be worth the wait, I promise.” Isabel laughed and burrowed a little deeper, allowing herself to become a little heavier.

Perhaps, in some small corner of her heart, Isabel had always known that truth. She was right where she had always belonged—in Caleb’s arms, sharing a life and all the discoveries to come.

Yes, it had been worth the wait.