Secrets of a Viscount (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Isabelle wasn’t sure when the last time she’d cried herself to sleep had been—naked no less.

She rubbed her fingers over her swollen eyes and wanted nothing more than to go right back to sleep. But she couldn’t. Now that Sebastian had made his announcement that they were still married, she had no choice but to end things with Simon. Not that she minded so much. Sebastian was right, his interest in her wasn’t very strong if Giles just being in the same vicinity could distract him so much. But it still didn’t make it any easier. Especially if Simon decided to start asking questions.

With a grimace she got out of bed, threw on her chemise, rang for her maid and stared at that offending blue nightrail until Tilde came to help her dress. She never wanted to see that scrap of fabric again and would have tossed it straight into the fire if she were sure it’d burn to ashes before Tilde arrived.

An hour and a half later she was dressed in a pink morning gown that had white lace around the cuffs and hem and she was gliding down the stairs, choking down her growing discomfort with each step.

“There you are, dear,” Mrs. Finch greeted, sailing out of the breakfast room. Her face fell. “Isabelle, is something wrong?”

Isabelle wanted to say no, but she couldn’t. Instead, she tried to force a wobbly smile. Unfortunately it didn’t stay.

“Come, let’s go talk.”

That was the last thing Isabelle wanted to do, but it looked like she might not have much choice.

“Isabelle,” Edmund called from down the hall—both relieving her and setting her on edge.

Beside her, Mrs. Finch went rigid. “We were just on our way to have a chat. Privately.”

Edmund came toward them. “I’d like to talk to Isabelle, it won’t take but a moment.”

Isabelle didn’t know if this was a good thing or not, and the hard expression on Mrs. Finch’s face only made her more unsure. What did they already know?

“Please,” Edmund said quietly.

“
All right,” Mrs. Finch allowed. “Shall we go to the small library?”

Edmund nodded and opened the door on the opposite side of the hall.

Isabelle tamped down her irritation that neither had actually addressed her specifically about wanting to hear what Edmund had to say and walked into the room. She blinked. Had she not been told this was the library she’d have never known it. There were shelves that lined the walls of course, but not a single book on any of them. Instead, there was a whole array of unusual trinkets and baubles. Vases of different sizes and mediums. A small collection of miniatures that were in lopsided stacks or fallen piles. Stray or broken items here and there: an ivory chess queen, an embroidery hoop, a broken hand mirror, a two-string violin, a ripped painter’s canvass with a brush that appeared to be stuck to the front, a partially shredded notebook, an earscoop, a torn playing card, a horribly neglected and trampled wig, an iron, a few loose matches and keys, a bent spoon, a slipper... The items were endless.

“
This must be Lord and Lady Cosgrove’s collective,” Edmund remarked. He bent down and picked up a half smoked cigar. “This could still be used.” He sniffed it then suddenly stopped when he locked gazes with Isabelle. He tossed the cigar down and ran his hands along the fabric of his breeches. “Isabelle, can we talk a moment?”

Did she have a choice? “I suppose.”

“I’ll just be over here...looking at things,” Mrs. Finch said, giving Edmund a hard look.

He nodded to her once, then smiled at Isabelle. “How about we sit over here on these chairs?”

Isabelle threw a glance behind her to the chairs he’d indicated. They were threadbare in places and literally ripping at the seams in other places. Under each of the feet were the books that should have been on the shelves of the library—all of which were of a different thickness.

“
I think I’ll stand.”

Edmund waved her off and went over to the closest chair. He gripped the back and gave it a little shake. “It’s sturdy.”

Just then, a small rodent scampered out from the hole in the side of the chair! Isabelle would have shrieked had she not been stunned into silence.

“
Was that?”
she asked breathlessly, her toes curled up inside her slippers almost to the point of pain.

“
A baby mouse,” Edmund confirmed. “Best we not sit.”

“
Perhaps we should go to another room,” Isabelle suggested.

“
No, I think he’s gone now.” Edmund rubbed his hands together. “I suppose the mystery surrounding the identity of Giles Goddard has been solved,” he said quietly.

“
Yes, it has.” Was it just her or was there a palpable tension in the air? Why? She’d spent a considerable amount of time in Edmund’s company over the past few years. Why did it seem so awkward just now? A memory from the other day when he’d tried to flirt with her under the table came to her mind and she shuddered.

“
Isabelle, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“
Yes, I’d surmised as much when you said you wanted to talk.” She sent up a silent prayer he’d find her statement slightly rude and decide not to propose they marry again. She knew without any uncertainty now she couldn’t marry him.

Edmund smiled. “That’s the Isabelle I know.” He sighed. “My aunt reminded me again this morning at breakfast that I haven’t been as honest with you as perhaps I should have been.”

She almost choked on her own laughter. “That makes two of us.” She shook her head. It wasn’t her fault she’d been dishonest, it was
his
. Sebastian’s, to be clear.

“
I don’t consider your flirtation with Simon Appleton to be dishonest, Isabelle,” he said softly. He flashed her a quick smile. “Nor your feelings for Lord Belgrave.”

She felt her eyes widen and her chest squeeze. He knew?

Edmund raked a hand through his hair. “I think he’s the better match for you.”

“
You mean instead of Simon?” she asked.

He nodded. “And instead of me.”

Not that Isabelle had been entertaining such a thought, she felt the need to try to offer him at least a little compassion to make him feel better. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of what to say.

“
As it would happen,” he continued a moment later. “My heart belongs to another.” A light blush stole over his cheeks. “And while I cannot marry her, I also cannot
not
continue to see her.”

“
Cannot not continue to see her?” Isabelle repeated slowly, trying to make sense of his unusual statement. She reached forward with intent to pat his arm to assure him it was all right, but before she could, she retracted her arm and offered him a weak smile. “I’m not asking you to.”

“
You’re not?” His voice held an edge of excitement, then his face fell and he shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“
Do what?”

“
Turn a blind eye to me and Lady Vessey.”

Isabelle blinked. What was he talking about this time? Only a blind person could have missed the flirtation between the two over these past few days. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Edmund. I have no intention of turning a blind eye to anything so obvious.”

“But you have no interest in joining?”

“
Joining?”

He flushed. “I assumed by your lack of response to my flirtations while playing Whist that you weren’t interested in a relationship with the both of us.”

“The both of you?” she asked, aghast.

He nodded. “I can’t give her up, Isabelle. It’d just be easier if you embraced what I’m suggesting. Then I won’t have to choose.”

She absolutely would not! Besides that it was indecent, she had no such feelings for either Edmund or Lady Vessey. “Edmund, you’re not talking any sense.” Then again, he’d talked a little out of her range of comprehension on many occasions.

He sighed. “Don’t you understand, Isabelle? I cannot marry her. I need an heir and she is too old. But I cannot give her up.”

“And you don’t have to,” Isabelle said pointedly. “I know you’ve offered marriage to me before, but I’m not holding you to it.”

“
Then who will you marry?” His tone dripped with disbelief.

“
Apparently, I’m still legally married to Sebastian.”

His expression hardened, then softened, then turned to one that said he was torn between shock and outright confusion. “I take it you just learned of this last night.”

“Is it that obvious?” she asked, trying to keep her forced smile in place.

“
It is now.” He twisted his lips and drummed his fingers along the top of the backrest of the chair recently vacated by the mouse. “I assumed by your face that there had been some sort of trouble between you and at least one of your suitors. I also found it very odd that they both left the party early this morning. Now, I know why.”

“
Excuse me, they both left the party?”

Edmund nodded. Lord Belgrave left before the sun came up and I saw Mr. Appleton’s coach pulling away while I was in the breakfast room.”

Isabelle’s mind spun until she was almost so dizzy she needed to sit. Almost. There wasn’t anything in this world that would make her want to sit
anywhere
in this room. She should have been the one to inform Simon. Not that she was positive he knew, he might have left following another disagreement with Giles. “It was because they both left that you decided to approach me about this...” She waved her hand through the air, words failing her. “Development. You thought both of my potential suitors had abandoned me—” she tried not to snort at the idea of referring to Sebastian as a suitor, he was the furthest thing from it, especially now— “and you thought to explain the circumstances of what a marriage to you would entail?”

“
Something like that.” He picked at the cracked leather on the chair with his thumbnail. “My aunt thought you needed to know of my feelings for Lady Vessey and let you decide if you could live with the arrangement. But now I don’t think it’ll matter to you.”

“
No,” she agreed numbly. There was still so much to take in: both Simon and Sebastian had left without a word to her of explanation. Not to mention whatever unusual relationship Edmund had just suggested to her. She covered her face with her hands and tried to make sense of it all.

“
If it helps, I think Lord Belgrave will make you a fine husband.”

Isabelle dropped her hands and straightened. “He’s a liar.”

“Well, that’s true,” Edmund conceded. “Did he say why he lied?”

She shook her head.

“Did you ask?” he pressed.

She shook her head again. “Why should I? He lied and if that wasn’t bad enough, encouraged me to act a fool.”

“By flirting with Mr. Appleton?”

“
Yes.”

Edmund lifted his right hand to his chin and idly tapped his finger against his lips. “I’m probably not going to say this right, so please assume the best.” At her nod, he continued. “Your flirtations were wasted on Mr. Appleton. Not to say you’re not desirable, because you are,” he rushed to add. “But he’s not the one to see it.”

“Yes, I know. He’s far too distracted with Giles.”

He blinked. “No, I don’t think there’s anything between those two.”

“Except that they’re brothers,” Isabelle clarified while trying not to laugh. She’d quite forgotten that it might not be public knowledge about Giles and Simon’s relation—especially if very few even knew of Giles’ existence until a few weeks ago. Besides, now that she knew what kind of relationships Edmund was interested in she should have been more clear.

“
That explains more, but not everything.” Edmund swiped his hand through the air. “Isabelle, if he’d truly been interested in you, his brother’s presence wouldn’t have kept him from responding to you. And it certainly wouldn’t have made him seemingly unaware of what was going on between you and Lord Belgrave at the card table. He’d have been jealous and might have even called the man out for what he was doing.” He shrugged. “But he didn’t.”

“
Then why would he have acted so interested in me while we were in London?”

“
Maybe he was then.”

“
And then suddenly he wasn’t?”

“
He might have just realized it was only a passing infatuation and been willing to accept that.”

“
Accept that?”

Edmund lifted his hands in a casual show of defeat or indifference. “Very few marry for love, Isabelle. You know that. When his infatuation faded, perhaps he realized that while his feelings for you weren’t that strong, he valued your friendship and thought that was a good enough reason to marry.”

She nodded her understanding. That’s all she was looking for in a marriage to him: friendship.