She allowed herself to relish the feel of his strong arms around her for a few moments, drawing strength from his nearness.
Swallowing, she began, proud that her voice was steady as she spoke the words: “When I was a small child, four years old, my mother went mad.”
Trevor didn’t say anything and Isabella was grateful for his silence. She’d only told one other person in her life this story, and Wharton’s reaction had been to backhand her.
“She suffered a great deal with each pregnancy,” Isabella said, fumbling with the buttons on Trevor’s waistcoat so that she’d have something to do with her hands. “After Perdita, the doctors warned Papa that she should not conceive again. But he didn’t heed them. And when Perdita was two years old, she became with child again. Only this time, she had no troubles until after the child, a boy, was born.”
“What happened?” Trevor asked.
“At first nothing. She seemed pleased to have given Father a son at last. But within a week or so she became tearful. She wept constantly. Perdita and I were not allowed to see her. But I could hear her, shrieking, crying, railing. Papa hired a nurse to watch over her full-time. And I believe there was talk of sending her to Bedlam. But at the time I didn’t know about that. I was simply a child who wanted her mother.
“One night, a few weeks after my brother’s birth, she left her chamber while her nurse was sleeping and stole into the nursery.” Isabella spoke, but it felt as if someone else were telling the tale. “I later learned that she’d been having visions of the devil telling her that my brother, her baby, was his child and that she had to kill him or he would destroy the world. So, my mother, in her madness, smothered the baby. Then drank a bottle of laudanum.”
“Christ,” Trevor said vehemently. Isabella tried to pull away, but he would not let her. “You were only a child. How did you come to find about it? I cannot think your father told you.”
“Hardly,” she said, grateful for Trevor’s protective arms. “My godmother told me when I’d been married for a year or so. Papa managed to hide the truth of things. He put it about that Mama and my brother both died from a fever.”
“I am sorry, Isabella,” Trevor said, stroking her back. “More sorry than I can say.”
“I will consent to an annulment if you wish it,” Isabella said softly. “Wharton was livid when he learned of it, and rightly so. Madness does run in some families.”
“You can hardly control what traits your parents give you,” Trevor said, ever reasonable. Isabella was beginning to wonder if he possessed a temper at all. “Besides, our marriage was a matter of honor. I could hardly have compromised you and refused to marry you. That would be the behavior of a blackguard.”
“Not many men would see it that way,” Isabella said, unable to look at him. “Wharton certainly wouldn’t have done so.”
“I believe I have made my opinion about your first husband known,” Trevor said, his voice clipped. “I suppose he beat you when he learned of it.”
Her face buried in Trevor’s chest, Isabella nodded. Knowing she had to tell the whole story while they were speaking of it, she said, “I was with child, and … I lost the baby.”
Trevor cursed and got up from the bed to go stand by the window.
Isabella felt bereft, but she could hardly blame him for wishing to have some space after hearing such a tale. She had known she’d have to tell him the story sooner or later but had cravenly hoped that it could wait until they’d been married for longer.
“It was wrong of me to wait,” she said, pulling her knees up to her chest so that she could hug them to her. “I waited until I was with child to tell Wharton and he was understandably angry. I wanted a baby so much, but I knew I had to warn him, in case…”
“In case you went mad like your mother did after you gave birth?” Trevor asked, not turning away from the window.
“Yes,” Isabella said. “I will do whatever you wish, Trevor. I will consent to an annulment or I will return to London. Whatever you wish to do.”
He turned from the window to stare at her. “I do not want an annulment. I have already said that marrying you was a matter of honor and I meant it. You will be no less compromised by me if we annul the marriage.”
She tried to read his expression, but it was unusually blank. “All right,” she said.
“Whoever sent that package knew about your mother,” Trevor said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Isabella nodded, and moved slightly back so he would have room. “Yes, they had to have known the story.”
Turning onto his side to lie facing her, Trevor watched her, his gaze intent. “Then we need to determine who might have known. Have you told anyone other than Wharton?”
“Only Perdita,” she said, watching Trevor with wary eyes as he reached out to her. “What are you doing?” she demanded, no longer concentrating on the mystery of who was trying to frighten her.
“I am comforting my wife,” Trevor said, pulling her against him again.
“I thought you were angry with me,” she said, unable to resist the lure of his comforting arms.
“Not with you,” he said, leaning back so that he could look her in the eye. “With Wharton. For what he did to you. Your child.”
The tears came, and this time Isabella allowed them to run down her face unchecked. “You are such a good man,” she said, lifting a hand up to caress his cheek. “I should have known you’d react to the tale by reiterating your reasons for marrying me in the first place.”
He took her hand and kissed the palm. “You have had little enough experience with decent men,” he said. “I hope that you will begin to expect goodness rather than dishonor. Not all men are as your father and your husband were.”
“Once we find the person who is trying to frighten me,” she said, tucking her head under Trevor’s chin, “perhaps then I will be able to expect more from the men around me.”
“And in the meantime,” Trevor said, kissing her, “I will endeavor to raise your expectations on my own.”
Seventeen
“You know that I’ll do whatever you need me to while you’re gone,” Lucien said, his affable countenance tight with unaccustomed gravity.
Trevor had ridden over to the other man’s estate as soon as he awakened. Long after Isabella had fallen into a restless sleep, Trevor had lain awake pondering what his next move must be in the cat-and-mouse game that her mysterious correspondent was playing. Trevor had little doubt that while he and Isabella were in Yorkshire whoever the person was would continue to become more and more dangerous. Though there were not as many people in the countryside as there were in London, the sheer vastness of the moors made it easy for whoever this was to remain hidden. Not long before he’d thrown off the bedclothes and dressed for the day, Trevor had decided that what might be called for was a change of scenery. Clearly this bastard had little enough trouble terrorizing Isabella at Nettlefield. Perhaps a return to London, where the incident that had set all of this chaos in motion had occurred, would bring matters to a head.
“I know you will,” Trevor said to Lucien. “Though I do apologize it comes so close on the heels of our trip to Scotland.” He smiled despite his somber mood. “I had not thought to turn you into a nursemaid.”
“You are a font of hilarity,” Lucien said with a scowl. “You needn’t worry about me, however. That Miss Nightingale of yours is as efficient as any I’ve seen.”
“That she is,” Trevor agreed. “And I don’t mind telling you how relieved I am to finally have a governess for my sisters who spends more time thinking of them than she does of me.”
“For what it’s worth,” Lucien continued, turning the conversation firmly back to Trevor’s problem, “I think you’re doing the right thing. I’m just as fond of the countryside as you are, but there is something very unprotected about it. There’s nowhere to hide. And for all that this fellow might be able to blend into the crowd better in London, I have little doubt that Ormonde House is like a bloody fortress.”
“That’s it exactly,” Trevor said. “Here I feel like we’re simply waiting for him to make the next move. And security is hardly something that I’ve spent a great deal of time emphasizing at Nettlefield. There’s never been a need for it. But Ormonde House is as tight as a tick.”
“You speak of it as if you’ve been there,” Lucien remarked, his face impassive but his eyes revealing his suspicions.
Trevor shrugged. “I might have paid a visit to it on a trip to London once or twice. Though I made damned sure to keep it a secret from my family there.”
“While your father was alive?” Lucien asked, brows raised. “I cannot imagine that he would have been pleased by that.”
“God no,” Trevor said with a grin. “He would have skinned me alive.
“But,” he continued, “there was a time, not too long after he died, that I found myself curious about what it was he’d been cut out of. I have to admit to being astonished by the sheer power of the place. It’s huge, Lucien. It rivals St. James Palace in size. And I have little doubt that the dowager rules over all of it with an iron fist.”
“What do you think she’ll do when you descend upon her, wed to the woman she sent to lure you back, and seeking shelter from a madman?”
Trevor was blunt. “I don’t give a hang what she’ll do. It’s my house, and though I know it’s been her greatest wish that I go to London and allow her to turn me into her pawn, she’s going to be greatly disappointed to find that I haven’t the first intention of allowing that to happen.”
“That’s the spirit, old boy.” Lucien grinned. “Just don’t be surprised if she proves to be reluctant to go quietly.”
“I have little doubt that she’ll fight me at every turn.” Trevor grinned back. “But if she pushes me too far, I’ll simply have her installed in the dower house. It is my prerogative as the duke, after all.”
His grandmother, he thought, should have been careful what she wished for.
* * *
“So soon? But what about your sisters?” Isabella demanded once Trevor had finished telling her of his plan. “I thought you weren’t planning to leave for another week at the earliest. And surely London will be a much easier place for this person to escape detection.”
“My sisters will be well looked after by Miss Nightingale and Lucien,” Trevor said, taking her hand in his. They were in the morning room that Isabella had taken as her personal study. He had leaned back against the mantle while he explained the gist of his plan, but as soon as Isabella began her objections he’d taken the seat next to her on the settee. Once she’d have felt crowded by his closeness, but now she only felt comforted by his presence.
“And I see no reason for us to delay our departure,” he continued. “It seems arbitrary to wait simply for the sake of waiting.”
Isabella bit back a sigh. She supposed he was right. It was a surprise to her just how quickly she, who had spent her entire life in the city, could become accustomed to the slower pace of country life. She missed London, of course, but she would miss Nettlefield when they left it. “You don’t think we should bring Eleanor and Belinda with us?” she asked. “I should like to show them the sights. I think Belinda would adore it.”
He rubbed his thumb over the back of Isabella’s hand. “Not this time, my dear. For one thing, if the dowager proves to be more of a handful than I expect then I don’t wish for them to be caught in the cross fire. I have yet to meet her in person, but from what you’ve told me, she can be quite ruthless. And I do not wish for them to be harmed.”
“I wish there were something I could do,” Isabella said, standing up and pacing the small space between the settee and the fireplace. “It is infuriating to know that this person knows so much about me, but I know so little about them.”
“We will fix that,” Trevor said, his blue eyes focused on her face. “I promise you that once we are safely ensconced in the Ormonde town house I will make it impossible for this bastard to get to you. And I will find out who they are.”
But Isabella had difficulty believing him. “Have you even been to London before?”
If he was stung by her question, he didn’t show it. “As a matter of fact, I have. It’s true that I am not acquainted with my family there, but I spent a little time there when I was at university. I went home with school friends and even attended a few
ton
functions.”
Isabella tried and failed to hide her surprise. “But you made it sound as if … I had assumed that—”
“I know what you assumed,” he said with a slight smile. “And I might have allowed you to think it without correcting your misapprehension. Especially when you first arrived at Nettlefield. But the fact remains that I am quite familiar with London and I am not entirely ignorant about Ormonde House. I have, after all, been corresponding with the duke’s—I suppose my—personal secretary about the place for the past year or so.”
“I did know that, actually,” she said with a sharp nod. “But it sounds as if you have no need of me for this trip at all,” she said, knowing she sounded hurt and frustrated but unable to keep her emotions from her voice.
But before she could say more, Trevor was up and at her side. “I need you because you are my wife,” he said, slipping his arms around her. “Surely the fact that I’ve been handling the Ormonde estate business doesn’t erase the fact that you know the dowager and all the rest of the Ormonde family far better than I do. And I didn’t marry you because you are some sort of golden ticket that will open the doors of London society for me.”
“No, you married me to preserve my reputation,” she said with a frown. “And because you needed someone to help you with your sisters.”
She focused on the knot of his cravat. She had been married for all those years to Ralph, who had tormented her in every possible way, but she’d never felt as vulnerable with him as she did now with Trevor. If this was what it meant to give your he— She stopped herself before she could complete the thought. Better not to travel down that road.
“I married you,” Trevor said, bending his knees so that he could look into her downcast eyes, “because I wished to. Not because either of our reputations was compromised. And certainly not just to have someone around who could deal with my sisters. Though I will admit that to be an added bonus.