“My scent? My dear, I do hope I don’t smell so much as to bring tears to your eyes!” He teased gently with a slight frown.
Isobel laughed softly. “Oh, you!” She swatted at his shoulder with a watery hiccup. “It is just -” She paused, unsure how to explain. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters if it upsets you so,” Peter replied, aware that Dominic had moved to sit upon the chair beside them.
“The clothes that I used on the night that I ran from Rupert’s, were yours,” she began quietly. “They smelled of you. It gave me the strength to do what I needed to do, to get away from him.”
Peter hated to see the haunted look in his sister’s eyes. It was in such stark contrast to the cheerful person she usually was. “Then I can only be glad that I do smell,” Peter replied with a gentle smile. “Although, running away as you did gave us all cause for significant worry, even if it did save your life.”
Isobel nodded as tears continued to flow.
“Can you tell us more?” Dominic asked quietly, watching the maid deposit a tray of tea pots and pastries on the small table beside them.
Isobel shook her head regretfully. “I shall one day, but not today,” her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.
“It would help if you could confide in us my dear. We need to know exactly what Rupert said to you through the time you were with him,” Peter replied, hating to push her when she was so clearly upset, but he knew that if they were to seal Rupert’s fate once and for all, they had to get as much detail as possible. That unfortunately meant that Isobel had to remember, and tell them.
“Please, not right now,” Isobel pleaded in a stronger voice. Shaking off the melancholy thoughts with a shrug of her shoulders, she wiped at the remaining moisture on her cheeks. “Now about that tea, is anybody going to pour?”
“I shall,” Dominic said, rising to do just t
hat. “We do need to speak to you. Peter and I have been making plans, and they involve you.”
“Oh?” Isobel’s brows rose questioningly at Peter. She didn’t like the idea of them plotting anything.
“My dear, you have indeed been thoroughly compromised.” Peter moved to stand before the fire, his hands clasped behind his back. He reminded Isobel so much of her father, she almost felt as though she had been naughty.
Well, you have, she chastised herself with a swift glance at Dominic, who sat nonchalantly sipping his tea and staring at his boots almost too intently.
Isobel shifted uncomfortably and waited. “Dominic has offered for your hand,” Isobel’s heart lurched but she wisely remained silent. “I strongly urge you to accept his offer.”
“And if I don’t?” Isobel asked, watching Peter scowl at her.
“There really is no question that you must. Although you were ill at the time, the Ton will not react well to any gossip that you have lived, unchaperoned, in Dominic’s house – alone – for six whole weeks. Much less that most of the time, you were actually residing in his master suite!”
“I don’t care what any of the Ton thinks,” Isobel snapped defiantly, carefully placing her teacup back on the table. “I will not be forced into matrimony because of mealy-mouthed gossips.” She was fully aware Dominic hadn’t taken his eyes off his boots.
“I know but it has ramifications for all the family,” Peter began, knowing his sister well enough to read the stubborn tilt of her chin for what it was. Abject defiance.
“What family?” Isobel replied quickly. “I – we – hardly have anyone left!” Isobel moved toward the window before turning on her heel to glare at her brother. “We have buried our parents,” she checked off her fingers. “We don’t have any other relations other than an uncle in Scotland whom we have never met, and Aunt Elspeth, who cannot be trusted not to gossip, and hasn’t moved in Ton circles for years, and Rupert, an insane despot who thinks more of his purse than us!” Isobel fought down the coughs that rasped in her throat as her temper bubbled.
“What about Peter?” Dominic asked softly, finally drawing his eyes away from an intense study of his boots and raising a querying brow toward Isobel.
“What about him?” Isobel gasped, her cheeks flushed with fury. “Whatever I do won’t have any impact on his choices.”
“Won’t it?” Dominic argued. “Are you sure Isobel?”
Isobel huffed. “It is widely known that any indiscretion women make is scandalous enough to provide fodder for the gossips of the Ton. She is shunned from society and cast as a harlot. Any man’s indiscretion is widely ignored, and rarely casts him into any disrepute whatsoever.” Isobel glared at both men in turn. “I don’t have any intention of moving within Ton circles, and I don’t care what they think of me. Where were they when I was out on my own? Who was there for me to turn to when I needed shelter when the weather turned cold?” She was aware she was practically shouting, but couldn’t stop the tide of despair that flowed through her. “Who was there to protect me from Rupert’s fists day after day?”
She stopped, suddenly realising what she had just revealed. Stunned silence settled over the room. She stared at them in horror for several moments before she turned and fled from the room, unable to stand the sight the appalled shock on their faces. A wave of humiliation swept through her, pushing her legs to move.
Dominic rose to follow her only for Peter to raise a restraining hand upon his arm. “Leave her. Let her go. She won’t thank you for your presence right now.”
“He hit her,” Dominic snarled, and reluctantly resumed his seat. In reality, he wanted to hit something, namely Rupert. His stomach roiled with tension as he turned to his friend. “Goddamn it, the bastard beat her.”
“You are a soldier Dominic. Don’t allow your anger to get in the way of the main battle.” Peter cautioned, fighting his own fury.
“How in the hell can you be so remote?” Dominic snarled incredulously, glaring at his friend in disgust.