If You Were Mine (23 page)

“
Could you not try and find her?” Isobel asked. “I am sure
that between us, we can put out enough inquiries to try to find her
current residence. Is she from Oxfordshire?”

“
No, she was from Cornwall, but living in Derbyshire. 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 inquiries myself.”

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

“
She isn’t a lady of quality Isobel. She was a servant in
Dominic’s uncle’s house. There is far more to the story than I can
go into now, but needless to say, she told me a secret and asked
for my help. I agreed, because it was linked to my past. Despite
the dangers she faced, we fell in love - well, I fell in love with
her, and I thought she had some feelings for me,” 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,
although didn’t come from a background of service.” 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 inquire 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. “I simply cannot
close off my affections for Jemima.”

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 and
pouredouring herself a small measure of brandy and resumed her
seat. “You must give me the details of what you have found so far,
and when you 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 that
she would accept his decision so readily.

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 realize what censure I would bring to the family,
should anyone ever discover that I spent several weeks living as a
pauper on the streets?” Isobel raised her eyebrows and looked at
her older brother as one might look at a naughty child. “Let alone
spending the first month of residence in a single man’s house lying
in 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. Even if you ignore Rupert’s latest
machinations, with aunt Elspeth’s ranting, she has no doubt
informed half the
Ton
I have been kidnapped by my own uncle and married off to a
pox-ridden despot. 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. Despite their intimate conversation,
she was still unwilling to allow Peter to see her inner thoughts.
“I knew there was a chance neither of you would come back, although
I fully understood that you both felt it was something you had to
do. There wasn’t a day that passed, 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 when he told me that Dominic had returned hale and whole, and
married someone else -” she shook her head solemnly at the pain
caused by Rupert’s lies.

Isobel
stood, tossing back her brandy in an almost manly fashion that
brought a brief smile to Peter’s face. “Tis a harsh world out there
Peter. Although you have been to war, and have no doubt experienced
far 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. Someone you know that you can
never be with, but are unable to 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 was 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 fighting to return to you, it drew out a
ruthless side of him that I had never seen before, even on the
battlefields. I know he will love you and honour you the way a man
should adore his wife.”

If only he could love her,
Isobel
mused silently to herself.

“
I will do everything in my power to make him happy, Peter,
but you deserve that same happiness. 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 married another. Wherever she is, whatever she is doing, we
will unearth her whereabouts.” Isobel’s voice held an undercurrent
of determination. Her own memories of the desperation to survive
were still painfully raw. Her knight in shining armour had been
Dominic, whose 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.

If Peter
was desolate at being unable to find Jemima, then it was down to
Isobel, and Dominic, to help him find the happiness he
deserved.

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
instructed.

Isobel
ignored him, and was two steps behind him when she entered the
hallway. She gasped when she saw the large bundle of rags lying
motionless on the floor. Dirty. Torn. There was, what appeared to
be, a trail of water and blood behind it. Isobel’s stomach dropped
and instinctively she knew this was the cause of her earlier
disquiet.

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

“
Isobel, get back to the library now!” Peter ordered in a
voice that brooked no argument, but Isobel was made of sterner
stuff.

Senses
screaming, she ignored Peter’s protests, and pushed his hands away.
She fell to her knees besides the sodden bundle and already 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 superfine wool of Dominic’s cloak. She
could vividly recall the soft dampness beneath her cheek when she
had ridden before him on the day he had found her.

“
Dominic?” Isobel whispered. Her voice echoed around the
cavernous main hall and did little to break the stunned silence
that had settled over everyone.

Easing
back the opening of the cloak, Isobel studied the bloodied mess
that was her husband with tearful eyes.

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. 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.

“
Oh God, Peter!” Isobel gasped, eyeing the bloodied mass of
her husband. His white shirt was stained pink with blood. It was
obvious, even through his dirty and torn shirt, that he was covered
in numerous cuts and bruises, and most probably had broken bones
they couldn’t see. Placing a gentle hand upon his chest, she
swallowed a sob and heaved a sigh at the gentle rise and fall of
his chest. “He’s alive,” she declared softly, her voice trembling
with relief. “He’s alive!”

Swiping
at the tears from her eyes, she turned towards Manvers. “Go outside
- whatever you do take someone with you, and check to see if
Dominic’s horse is there. If it is, bring any bags back to
me.”

Manvers
eyed the mistress warily. She had the look of a warrior goddess
about her that was a sight to behold. Personally he had had his
doubts that she had survived all alone for two months with very
little to her name - her being a lady of quality and all that, but
seeing the cold, battle-hardened determination on her face, he had
no hesitation in her ability to handle such a dire circumstance.
This wasn’t a woman who would collapse into uncontrollable sobs;
this was a woman who would stand up and fight. He could see why she
had captured the master’s heart so thoroughly. Abruptly making his
decision, he led two armed footmen out of the front door, to do as
his mistress ordered.

“
We have to get him upstairs. Have we got a door, or
something, to carry him on?” Peter raised a brow to Sebastian, who
quickly dispatched two men were sent down to the cellars to fetch
anything suitable.

Isobel
carefully cushioned the door that appeared with an array of
blankets, issuing brisk orders to Mrs Holcombe, and the maids,
before following her husband to their suite of rooms.

Dominic
had insisted upon her sleeping by his side at night, and had
instructed the lady’s rooms to be stripped, just in case Isobel
took it in mind to move in there when she was angry with him. As a
result, the master suite had become softer and held several
feminine touches, and had become the main suite for the Lord and
Lady of the house.

The men
carefully eased Dominic down onto the bed, taking the opportunity
to remove his sodden cloak from beneath him. As they worked,
neither Isobel nor Peter needed to question who was responsible.
They knew exactly who had done this. Rupert.

Rage
poured through Isobel with a fiery fury that caused her hands to
tremble.

“
Are you alright?” Peter asked, eyeing her pale cheeks as she
began to strip the shirt off her husband.

Teeth
clenched, she nodded brusquely, and continued to tug and pull until
the top half of her husband’s chest was laid bare.

“
Maybe you should leave him to us; we can strip him and get
him into bed.” Edward said, gently trying to ease Isobel toward the
door.

“
No!” Isobel shot him a fiery look of temper, warning him not
to argue. “He is my husband. There isn’t anything here that I have
not already seen before.” Her teeth were clenched to stop them from
chattering. At that present time, it was helping her considerably
to hold on to her anger. She could collapse into uncontrollable
sobs when Dominic’s needs were seen to, and she had seen for
herself the full extent of his injuries.

“
We don’t know how bad he is, Isobel,” Peter said, staying her
hands as they worked on the fastenings of his cuffs.

“
It isn’t anything I haven’t already seen before,” Isobel
repeated, glaring across Dominic’s unconscious body toward her
brother; willing him to understand that she had seen, and
experienced, her fair share of bruises and grazes to be able to
assess just how bad Dominic’s were. “Now let us get these clothes
off him, preferably before he catches a chill on top of his
injuries.” She shot her brother a hard look, “Are you going to help
me or not?”

The men
seemed to know when they were beaten, and silently set to work.
Between them, managed to strip Dominic bare and were just tucking
the sheets around him when Mrs Holcombe arrived with two maids:
bowls and towels at the ready.