Holding her hair against his chest he rolled into the space she had occupied, breathing in her scent, his face wet with tears of shame and loss. Something clinked against his shoulder. He slid his fingers down the severed braid and found her betrothal and wedding bands tied to the ribbon.
Isobel could not have made things clearer. She had gone—his lovely young wife had left and he didn’t blame her. He buried his face in her pillow and his shoulders heaved. For the second time in his life he’d lost the woman he loved and this time it was entirely his fault. His brutality had driven her away.
The stench in the bedchamber made his stomach roil. Unsteadily he swung his legs to the floor and attempted to stand. The pain thumping between his eyes was worse than he could ever remember. He deserved to suffer, deserved to be horsewhipped for what he’d done. How had he come to this?
He tottered through the communicating door and back into his own rooms. The long braid bounced behind jingling as it hit the boards, the sound a reminder of what he’d destroyed. His misery deepened. She was cutting him out of her life in the same way she’d cut her lovely hair.
How was he going to live without her? The death of his wife and two daughters had all but killed him, made him frightened to love again. He’d been given a second chance to find happiness and had ruined it by his base behaviour. Last night had been the culmination of his callousness. She had offered him nothing but love and support over the past year and he had spurned it, treating her as if she were of no importance to him. He had remained aloof because he had fallen in love with his wife and was fearful of being hurt again.
There was no need to send out a search party. She would be with the Watkins couple, in the cottage on the edge of his estate. Isobel believed this to be a secret from him but nothing happened at Newcomb undetected. Initially he’d intended to confront her, but after considering carefully he’d decided to leave her servants where they were. She needed a bolt hole.
As he splashed his face with cold water he began to feel less anguished. Maybe matters were not as bad as he feared. After all, Isobel was his wife and she had promised herself to him. If given time to reconsider she would realise her responsibility and come back. He would allow her day or two to recover and then ride over. He would not demand she return immediately but suggest she visit one of his estates in the north. There she could live in seclusion untrammelled by responsibility for a few weeks.
His spirits lifted a little. He had behaved unforgivably but he would change, become the man she deserved. She might hate him now but she would love him again in time. Isobel would return for the seasonal festivities— and what a time of celebration that would be. However much she loathed and despised him now she was his wife and, and unlike himself, would not shirk her duties.
He rang the small, brass bell that stood beside his bed, then ramming his arms into his bedrobe he waited for Duncan to answer his summons. The click of the dressing room door heralded his arrival. “Duncan, I require a bath, and a jug of coffee.”
“At once, your grace. Mr Foster has asked me to inform you all your guests have departed.”
Alexander raised his hand in acknowledgement and wandered to the window to stare morosely across the park. Usually the magnificent stand of oak trees in their autumn glory and the ornamental lake and the rolling vista he’d paid a small fortune to have constructed by Brown, filled him with satisfaction. But this morning it meant nothing. What was the use of having so much when he had no one with which to share it? Until Isobel was back where she belonged he would gain no pleasure from this view.
“What do you mean the place is uninhabited?” Alex glared at his man of business, William Hill, who he’d sent to check on the cottage.
“The place is deserted, your grace, the shutters up and the stable empty. I reckon it’s been like that for a day or two.”
“Thank you, you may go.” The man bowed and retreated.
Alexander wanted to hurl the nearest object through the window. This was an unmitigated disaster. Why hadn’t he had the place checked immediately? He gripped the edge of his desk forcing his anger back— never again would he let his temper rule him. Isobel’s disappearance was no more than he deserved. He had driven her way. He sank into the nearest chair dropping his head in his hands in despair.
He would not relinquish the search until he was certain she was well and had sufficient funds to live comfortably. He prayed the scandal never reached the outside world. With luck no one, apart from the staff at Newcomb, would know she had gone. She rarely joined him in London and there were no close acquaintances to make enquiries.
Perhaps her disappearance could be kept secret? He was certain the unfortunate chamber-maids who had been obliged to clear up the mess he’d made, would not risk their position by gossiping. He would let it be known Isobel had gone to Norfolk to be with her ailing mother— no one would dare question his word. His fingers clenched. What was he thinking of? Let the scandal mongers say what they like—he’d willingly sacrifice his good name if it would bring his wife back to his side.
But where would she go? He would not mount a full-scale pursuit but send out a few discreet enquiries. They should not be too difficult to find despite having had two days start. A gig containing two large black dogs along with a beautiful young woman and her maid, was bound to be noticed when they trotted through a village or town.
The thought of Isobel being tossed about in that ancient vehicle filled him with remorse. He’d never drink to excess again and would immediately root out the bad influences in his life. From this moment forward he would be a better man. Perhaps when he found her she might be prepared to forgive him. He intended to spend the rest of his life making amends. He would not take her for granted again if she ever consented to return.
He’d never considered the notion of bringing her back by force. If she wished to remain estranged then so be it. He would retire from society. Now the wretched war was over he could travel abroad and leave his heartbreak behind. Ten years ago he’d been a different man. This mausoleum had been a happy place filled with the laughter of his little daughters and his beloved Eleanor. He’d taken due interest in his tenants, paid attention to his friends and was not the arrogant, hedonistic bastard he’d become.
Small wonder those that used to be his intimates had over the years begun to refuse his invitations. To fill his loneliness he’d surrounded himself with toadies, sycophants and people not worthy of his attention. Into this hellhole he’d brought his innocent bride and tainted her by association. Look what this degeneracy had led to?
He strode to the door and roared down the corridor. “Foster, have Hill return immediately. I shall wait for him in my study.”
His butler must have been lurking in the shadows for he stepped forward bowing obsequiously. “You haven’t taken breakfast again this morning, your grace. Shall I have something sent to you?”
Alexander was about to refuse for he’d had little appetite these past two days but he needed his strength, he could not afford to become unwell. “As you wish— I want coffee served with it.”
His study was the one place where he was comfortable. Eleanor and the children had never entered here so it wasn’t linked to their deaths. He’d no idea if Isobel had investigated this room in his absence; he hoped she had for then he could feel closer to her.
The thought of what Isobel had endured since their marriage almost unmanned him. He’d kept her cloistered like an inmate of an asylum. Her wardens had been his too attentive staff. He had been so immersed his own selfish affairs he’d never considered how unhappy she must be with no friends or family to support her.
Hill arrived at the same time as his breakfast and on impulse he invited his man of affairs to join him. They sat and munched together and Alexander was surprised how hungry he was. “I want you to select three discreet and reliable men, have them ride out and make enquiries as to the direction my wife has taken. They are not to make themselves known, merely follow. When she’s settled they can send word to me.”
“My lord, might I suggest we send the men in pairs? That way one can come back with news whilst the other continues his surveillance.”
“Good man, arrange that if you will. I intend to wait two weeks and then close Newcomb. I shall take the staff and move permanently to Town. Make sure these men are aware of my movements and that they don’t report here when I’m gone.”
“Do you wish me to remain in your absence, your grace? Or shall I accompany you to London?”
“Come with me, set yourself up somewhere. God knows, there are enough rooms in Grosvenor Square.” He reached into his desk and withdrew a wallet filled with paper notes. He added a substantial bag of coins and the matter was settled.
