Chapter 19
Isabel held her breath, waiting for Rian to make the first move. Only a moment or two had passed but they moved with agonizing slowness. Keeping her face a carefully controlled picture of concern, she couldn’t believe her good fortune. Catherine’s unexpected appearance had been a gift, a treasure far beyond Isabel’s wildest expectations. Finally Rian stopped staring down at the floor and lifted his head to look at her.
“Rian, I am so sorry,” she said softly, her voice carrying just the right degree of pathos. “I had no idea Catherine would come into your room uninvited—”
Her words were rudely cut off as the bedroom door opened once more. This time a little more forcefully as a highly agitated Liam burst into the room. He dismissed her with a single glance, but his opinion made no difference to Isabel. That he had seen her was enough.
“Catherine was here?” Liam barked at his brother. Rian jerked his head in the affirmative. “Where is she now?”
“I don’t know,” Rian said, his entire being now suffused with shame.
“You damnable fool!” Liam snapped before turning on his heel and slamming the door behind him as he left.
After carefully wrapping the sheet around her, Isabel came to him. “Rian, I am so sorry, I had no idea. After last night…” Her voice trailed off.
“Don’t blame yourself, Isabel. That burden is mine to bear, and mine alone.” His voice matched his expression, and both were grim. Begging her pardon, he retreated to the relative safety of the washroom, and the door click closed behind him.
Isabel hugged herself triumphantly, allowing a jubilant smile to lift her lips. She couldn’t have planned this any better. The events of the morning were totally unexpected, but so completely satisfying, she could only congratulate herself on her good fortune. Watching both Catherine and Rian intently during the encounter, she’d quickly realized the depth of feeling between them was stronger than she had anticipated. It was a lucky thing for her such feelings had not yet been acted on, or her plan to resume her role as Rian’s lover would in all probability fail. Had Catherine already given herself to him, Isabel suspected no temptation she could offer would induce Rian to return to her bed.
But Catherine was young and, luckily for Isabel, inexperienced in the ways of men. She shared her feelings with the world, wearing her emotions on her sleeve with an almost childlike innocence. Isabel had known from the first time they’d met in the townhouse that Catherine was desperately in love with Rian, even if, at that time, she herself was not aware of it. The cut she now felt at finding another woman in his bed had quickly turned into a gaping, bleeding wound. His betrayal was unforgivable.
As for Rian, he was a matter she could deal with. All she had to do was be patient and wait until this temporary madness passed. It did not matter that his regard for her had never been as strong as what he felt for Catherine. What was important was the role she would play now. Isabel would be the one to restore order to his life and give him a sense of purpose. If the physical chemistry between them was strong enough, and she knew it was, then an emotional bonding would surely follow. All in all, it was an extremely gratifying situation to be in.
The faint sound of splashing water coming from behind the closed door refocused her attention, and Isabel knew the next few moments were crucial. It would determine whether or not her heart’s desire would be fulfilled.
Coming back into the bedroom, Rian found Isabel struggling with the back of her gown. He went to help her. She thanked him with a small smile saying, “Dressing a woman is not a skill most men possess. Though they seem to have no trouble in removing a woman’s clothes, the opposite action is not something they are adept at.”
“Most men are not adept at dressing themselves. It is fortunate I can boast some practice with both.” His efficiency tying her laces supported his claim.
Sitting down at the dresser, Isabel attempted to repair her hair but finally gave up. Instead she finger-combed the raven locks, securing the heavy tresses at the nape of her neck with the length of ribbon Rian normally used to tie back his own. He made no comment about her thievery, concentrating on dressing himself. Surreptitiously Isabel watched him in the mirror, waiting for the exact right moment to speak.
“Rian—”
“Isabel—”
“No, please allow me,” she begged. “There is something I need to say before my courage fails.” He raised a brow, acquiescing to her plea as she turned on her seat to face him. “Last night was a mistake, as was the night I slipped into your house after your brother’s wedding. I know I have already told you this, but it is important that you hear it again. I make no secret that my hope was to rekindle a change in your affection toward me, but now I see that you are resolute. I accept that nothing I can do will change your feelings. Another has claimed your affection, but it isn’t just my pride that is wounded. I do care a great deal about you.”
She turned her head to the side, and Rian thought he heard her gulp down a sob before she was able to look at him once more. Her lower lip was trembling, and for the second time in less than an hour, Rian was looking at a woman on the verge of tears. This time the eyes were a brilliant emerald green instead of cornflower blue. He sighed unhappily as Isabel continued.
“It’s not easy for me to let you go, and though I have lost you as a lover, I don’t want to also lose your friendship. Lord knows you are one of the few men who has always treated me as an equal, and asked nothing of me. I don’t have many friends of either sex that I trust. But I count you among the few.”
She was begging his forgiveness, and pleading for his understanding. Rian came over and gently pulled her to her feet before taking her in his arms. Still reeling from the impact of Catherine’s words, he did not have the strength, or will, to fight with another woman, no matter who it was or which of them was at fault.
“I wish it could have been different between us,” he said softly before letting her go. Seeing her head jerk, he lifted her chin, noting the tears spilling down her cheeks. Pretending to make an effort to regain her composure, Isabel was disappointed that Rian was proving to be no different from the rest of his sex. Ridiculously easy to manipulate. Thankfully he had other attributes that she had not yet tired of. Giving an audible sigh, she dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I think it would be best if I left now,” she whispered.
“Can I help in any way?” Rian offered.
“No, thank you. I must do this by myself.”
“Of course.”
She walked to the door. Everything was all falling into place perfectly. It really wasn’t fair. She held a winning hand while Rian didn’t even know the cards he had been dealt. “Please give my apologies to Liam and Felicity,” she said, her voice reflecting the proper amount of sincerity and regret. “It really was a lovely celebration.”
She looked away, unsure how much longer she could disguise her true emotions, and then, as she opened the door, Isabel played her trump card.
“Rian…?”
“Yes?”
This was the hardest part. Conveying the right amount of compassion so he would believe her. “I am confident that Miss Davenport will forgive you. She’s young. All she needs is time.”
* * * *
Rian was sitting on the chaise in his mother’s—now Catherine’s—room with his head in his hands, miserable and wretched when Liam found him. Pulling up a chair, he sat and waited until his brother looked up.
“Have you seen her?” Rian asked, his voice lifeless.
Liam shook his head. “I do not think she can presently tolerate any member of our sex, but I do know where she is, and you can take comfort knowing Felicity is with her.”
A spark ignited. “I must go to her. I need to explain—” He half rose out of his seat, but Liam’s restraining hand held him back.
“Did you not hear me, man? What possible explanation can you give that would justify the presence of Isabel in your bed, and you half naked?” The misery on Liam’s face said he suffered for his brother. “Where are the words that will explain that?”
“Damn it, I don’t know!” Rian brought a fist crashing down on the small painted table before him, but the delicate spindle legs were not made for such abuse and the wood splintered.
“My wife was fond of that piece,” Liam sighed. “Tell me what happened, brother. How did this come about?”
Rian looked at his sibling. It was a look quite unlike anything Liam had seen before, and he raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“I don’t think I know what happened,” Rian started. “Well, of course I know what happened, but it feels like it happened to someone else.”
“You aren’t making any sense,” Liam rebuked gently.
“Believe me, no one knows better than I how ridiculous I sound, but Liam, I swear I don’t remember taking Isabel to my bed.” Rian ran his fingers through his thick hair, his frustration evident.
Narrowing his eyes, his brother studied him. He had never seen Rian like this. He was shaken, and badly. The torment he was putting himself through was of monumental proportions and it carried with it something Liam had never thought possible. His brother, always so confident and self-assured, was now plagued by uncertainty and doubt.
“Tell me precisely the last thing you do remember, and leave nothing out. Even the smallest detail might prove significant.”
Rian grimaced. “Do you think I am on the first step to the madhouse?”
“No, far from it.” Liam’s response was confident and reassuring. “But I do believe that something seems quite odd, and if Isabel is involved in any way, then it bears examining.”
“Where do you want me to begin?”
“Tell me everything that happened after we said good night.”
And so Rian relayed all that he could remember from the night before. He omitted nothing, giving a self-conscious smile as he described Catherine’s somewhat inebriated state and the liberties he’d allowed himself to take with her because of it. While his brother did not censure him for his behavior, the look in his eye said neither did he approve of it. However, Liam’s mood noticeably darkened as he listened to Rian’s account of finding Isabel in his room, and what he could recall taking place between them.
Liam suddenly stood up, pushed back the chair, and headed for the door. “You say you shared a toast?”
Rian nodded, a vertical line forming between his brows as he followed his brother out of Catherine’s room. “I can’t for the life of me tell you what we were drinking to, but I do know whatever it was had one hell of a kick!”
“Possibly too much kick for brandy alone?” Liam suggested.
Reaching Rian’s room, Liam began looking around, searching for something. He peered behind the dresser and under the bed, even going so far as to shake out the heavy bed curtains. Hearing his brother curse, Rian gave him a questioning look.
“She must have taken it with her,” Liam told him.
“Taken what?”
“I was hoping to find either the bottle or the glasses, but I think Isabel must have taken them with her. Now why do you suppose she would do that?”
“I have no idea,” Rian replied as Liam’s suspicions began to sink in. “Do you really think she would do such a thing?” His brother simply shook his head in disgust. “But, in God’s name, for what reason?” A strange feeling of revulsion crept over him.
It’s only a dream.
Unaware of his sibling’s discomfort, Liam gave him a glum look. “I’ve told you before, Rian, Isabel doesn’t like to lose. Ever.”
“But we can’t know for certain that she is guilty of anything wrong.”
“No,” Liam agreed, “we can’t. But when was the last time you drank anything that knocked you out so completely?”
“I don’t recall it ever happening before,” Rian admitted, “but without the bottle, it’s all just supposition.”
“True, but it does raise a lot of questions, doesn’t it? I mean don’t you find it just a little odd that Isabel would show up so unexpectedly last night?”
Rian sighed and scrubbed a hand wearily across his face. His legs felt stiff from sitting too long and he paced. Stopping by the window, his eyes fixed on some distant point. “She’s not going to let me see her, is she?”
Knowing he was no longer talking about Isabel, Liam shook his head. “I don’t think so, not just yet. You must understand, Rian, from what you told me about your flirtation in the library, Catherine feels confused and betrayed.”
“And you don’t blame her,” Rian finished for him.
“She needs time, that’s all. A little time and she will forgive you. I am sure of it.”
“Really?” He gave a snort of derision. “I wish I had your confidence. What in God’s name possessed her to come into my room in the first place? What was so important it could not wait?”
“You don’t know then? Catherine didn’t tell you?”
Rian shook his head. “No, I think she was trying to, but then she saw Isabel and, well—” He spread his hands in a gesture of futility.
“Felicity managed to trick Catherine into remembering her family name.”
“Are you serious?” Rian grabbed his brother’s shoulders in a sudden rush of excitement. “How?”
Liam explained the earlier incident in the dining room. “I have no idea what prompted Felicity to ask the question. It was all very natural and unforced, so perhaps that is why Catherine was able to remember.”
“And what is her name?”
Liam looked slightly abashed. The most important point of the tale and he was forgetting to reveal it. “My apologies, it’s Davenport. Her name is Catherine Davenport.”
The smile on his face froze as he watched Rian stagger back. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”
“Oh yes, Liam, something is very wrong,” he said, grabbing his brother firmly by the arm. “If Catherine only just remembered her name a few hours ago, how is that Isabel already knew it?”