To Have and to Hold (31 page)

“I’m sorry
Peter,” Isobel murmured making a valiant attempt to shake off her inner
worries.
 
“I am afraid I am not very good
company this evening.
 
I shall try to do
better,” she smiled ruefully at her elder sibling.
 
In addition to the healthy bronzed tone to
his skin, there were already smatterings of grey hair appearing at his temples
and creases appearing around the edges of his startling blue eyes.
 
Extremely handsome in appearance, his
jet-black hair was styled loosely as was the current fashion.
 
Tall and broad at the shoulder, he was a
sight set to bring many a flutter to social occasions Isobel had attended with
him.
 

“Why have you
never married Peter?”
 
Isobel wasn’t
aware she had spoken out aloud until Peter looked across the room at her, brows
raised in surprise.
 
      
Glancing thoughtfully into the fire, a
long silence settled between the two until Isobel wasn’t sure if he was going
to bring himself to answer her.
 
 

“There was
someone once.”
 
He murmured softly,
clearly lost in memories. “Her name was Jemima.”
 

“Jemima”, Isobel
murmured with a sad smile.
 
“That’s a
nice name.”
 
She was bursting to ask
questions but instead sat in silence allowing Peter time for his memories.

“She was
stunning with dark blonde hair and gorgeous chocolate brown eyes.”
  
Sadness suffused Peter’s features moments
before it was replaced with a bleak look.
 
Swiftly, he took a long drink from the goblet in his hand.

“What
happened?”
 
Isobel couldn’t recall any
Jemima in all of their acquaintances.
 
Certainly, the Lady in question couldn’t have been Ton.

“I made a
horrendous mistake and lost her.”
 
Peter
murmured with a shake of his head. “I was going to ask her to marry me, but she
left before I could.”
 
Swiftly, he stood
up and moved towards the fire to rest one booted foot on the fender in a stance
so very similar to Dominic’s it gave Isobel a brief flash of pain and longing.

“Could you not
trace her?”
 
Isobel murmured.
 
“I am sure between us, we can put out enough
enquiries to try to find her current location.
 
Is she from Oxfordshire?”
  

“No, she was
from Leicestershire. Near here actually, which is why I don’t mind spending so
much time here.
 
Apart from spending time
with you and Dominic, it gives me the opportunity to make some enquiries
myself.”
           

“You haven’t
found her yet then?”
 
It wasn’t a
question.
 
Isobel knew the answer even
before Peter sadly shook his head.

“She isn’t a Lady
of quality Isobel.
 
She was a servant at
Dominic’s Uncle’s house.
 
There is far
more to the story than I can go into now, but needless to say I discovered her
secret and despite everything, we fell in love.”
 
Peter’s voice hardened and he lapsed into silence,
clearly waiting for her censure.

“I should be
shocked and appalled.
 
A servant, are you
sure?”
 
Isobel couldn’t fathom why, after
all the beautiful and powdered women who have made their availability known to
Peter, why he would eschew them all and take up with a servant.
 

Peter’s cynical
laugh was brief, “Yes I am sure Isobel.
 
She was a servant.”
 
He wiped a
hand down his face wearily, wishing he hadn’t answered her initial question and
started all of this, but it was inevitable that at some point during their
lives she would enquire why he had never married.
 

“At some point,
I suppose I shall have to marry and set up my nursery, but I simply cannot bear
the possibility of marriage to a woman I do not love.”
 
He shot her a hard look.
 
“Despite which I cannot close off my
affections for Jemima, and she wouldn’t be my mistress even if I could find
her.”

Isobel sat in
silent contemplation for several moments.
 
“Then if we are successful in finding her, you must marry her.”
 
Ignoring her brother’s startled look, she
rose and refilled his glass before pouring herself a small measure of brandy
and retaking her seat.
 
“You must give me
the details of what you have found so far and when you have to return to Willowbrook,
I will continue the chase for you and help in any way I can.”

“You’ll
help?”
 
Peter turned to stare at her,
astonished at what he had just heard.
Isobel scoffed and shot him a chiding look.
 
“Of course I will help you.
 
If
this is the woman who holds your affection, then you must marry her.
 
Servant or not, you deserve to have a chance
at happiness.”

“Are you certain
you know what you are saying?
 
Do you
have any idea of the censure it will bring upon the family if I did marry
someone of such lowly status?”
 
Peter
didn’t mention what Dominic would say.

“Do you realise
what censure I would bring to the family, should anyone ever discover I spent
several weeks living as a pauper on the streets.”
 
Isobel raised her eyebrows and looked at her
elder brother as one might look at a naughty child.
 
“Let alone spending the first month of
residence in a single man’s house lying on his bed in the master suite!
 
Illness or not, I have broken more than
enough rules to bring scandal and ruination upon the family name for years to
come, notwithstanding Rupert’s latest machinations.
 
With aunt Elspeth’s ranting, she has no doubt
told half the Ton I have been kidnapped by my own uncle nonetheless.
 
I can only hope some of them think she is
ready for the asylum, for if they believe her, half of the Ton may already
consider me wed to DeLisle!”
 
Taking a
sip of her own drink, she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and
looked steadily at her brother as he absorbed his sister’s unconditional
support.

“I loved Dominic
before he left for Norfolk, you know.”
 
She looked steadily into the fire, unwilling to allow Peter to see her
inner thoughts.
 
“I knew there was a
chance neither of you would come back but also that it was something both of
you felt you had to do.
 
There wasn’t a
day that went past that I didn’t pray for your safe return.”
 
Tears began to thicken her voice.
 
“I didn’t think my grief could get any worse
when Rupert told me you had been slain, but then to be informed that Dominic
had returned hale and whole and had married another –“ She shook her head in
disbelief at the pain caused by Rupert’s lies.
 

Tossing back her
brandy in an almost manly fashion that brought a brief smile to Peter’s face
and a rueful shake of his head, Isobel stood.
 
“Tis a harsh world out there Peter.
 
Although you have been to war and have no doubt experienced worse
horrors than I could ever consider, I have seen the mean side of life in this
country.
 
I know what it is like to live
life loving someone who is with another, whom you know you can never be with,
but cannot stop loving.
 
The
pain...”
 
A single tear slowly trickled
down her face.
 
“It is indeed a miracle
to be given a second chance at happiness.
 
There isn’t anything I won’t do to help you and Dominic find, and keep,
the happiness you both deserve.”

“I have never
seen Dominic as content as he is now.” Peter replied softly.
 
“He was as devastated as I when we were
informed you had died.
 
To be led to your
grave and look down on that mound of earth was horrendous enough for me, but to
Dominic who had spent weeks battling to return to you, it drew out a ruthless
side I had never seen before.
 
I know he
will love you and honour you in the way a man should adore his wife.”
 

If only he
could
love her Isobel mused silently to
herself.
  
To Peter she said, “I know, and
I will do everything in my power to make him happy.
 
But you deserve that same happiness
Peter.
 
I have seen what a life of
depravation can do to a person, and your Jemima shouldn’t be living in
servitude if she can be by your side making you happy.”
 

“Jemima might
already be married to another.” Peter’s own voice sounded choked as he
considered the horrible possibility.

“Then that is
something we should cross when we get there.
 
But if she loves you as much as you love her, then she will not have wed
another.
 
Wherever she is, whatever she
is doing, we will unearth her whereabouts.”
 
Isobel’s determination was set upon this task.
 
Her own memories of the desperation to
survive were still painfully raw.
 
Her
knight in shining armour had been Dominic.
 
His generous warmth and loving embrace had given her the strength and
support she yearned for.
 

If he had been
married to another and well and truly out of her reach, she would have remained
on the streets and would have almost certainly have died of cold and hunger.

BANG!
 
“What the?”
 
Peter shot a startled look at Isobel, before drawing his sword from his
scabbard resting upon the table by the door, pausing briefly to shoot a warning
glare at Isobel. “Wait here!”
 
He
ordered, clearly expecting her to do as he bade.
 

Isobel was two
steps behind him and gasped as she entered the hallway.
 
Inside on the floor lay a bundle of
rags.
 
Dirty.
 
Torn.
 
There was, what appeared to be a trail of water and blood behind
it.
 
Isobel’s stomach dropped.
 

“Jesus Christ!”
 
Peter swore before shouting for Manvers,
Sebastian and Edward to come quickly.
        
           

“Isobel, get
back to the Library now!”
 
Peter’s voice
commanded and brooked no argument, but Isobel was made of sterner stuff.
 

Senses screaming
she ignored Peter’s protests and pushing hands, shoving back hard enough to
loosen his hold and fall to her knees besides the sodden bundle.
 
Already she knew without removing the
clothing who it was.
 
           

A sob locked in
her throat she was vaguely aware of the pounding of running feet answering the
urgent summons as she eased back the cloak.
 
She knew it was the super fine wool of Dominic’s cloak.
 
She could vividly recall the soft dampness
beneath her cheek as she had ridden before him the day he had found her.

“Dominic?”
 
Isobel’s voice was a whisper echoing around
the stunned silence permeating the cavernous main hall.

Easing back the
opening of the cloak tears pooled in her eyes as she saw the bloodied mess that
was her husband.
  
Blood trickled through
the congealed mass of cuts and grazes covering his face and upper neck.
 
A long gash along his brow was bracketed by
bruises and welts.
 
His bottom lip was
swollen and torn, oozing blood onto the polished marble of the floor.

“Get the
Doctor!”
 
Isobel’s voice was cold and
hard as she quickly tugged the cloak open further, its heavy weight hampered by
Dominic’s motionless limbs.
 
She was
vaguely aware of Peter and Sebastian dropping to their knees beside her to
help.
 
Once or twice they tried to move
her aside, but she wouldn’t budge.