If You Were Mine (Cavendish Mysteries 1) - Page 39

Night times were the worst. She hated climbing into the big bed in the master suite, so suited to Dominic’s masculine tastes, without him beside her. Many times during the night she found herself turning over, seeking the comforting warmth of his muscled chest and the reassuring band of his arms around her. She had not forgotten the many nights she had spent crying into her pillow, aching for his loving kisses, only to eventually wake up in the morning feeling tired and ill-tempered.

Tonight she felt distinctly on edge, but could not fathom why. Her day was usually peaceful and mundane. Almost too mundane! Since her last encounter with Rupert, things had gone suspiciously quiet, and she hated it. A small part of her almost wished he would make an attempt to do something; anything but this awful waiting - for something.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Isobel said, making a valiant attempt to shake off her inner worries. “I am afraid I am not very good company this evening. I shall try to do better,” she smiled ruefully at her elder sibling.

In addition to the healthy bronzed tone to his skin, there were already smatterings of grey hair appearing at his temples and creases appearing around the edges of his startling eyes so very similar to hers. He was extremely handsome; his dark brown hair was styled loosely in the current fashion. Tall and broad shouldered; he was a sight set to bring many a flutter of excitement to the young misses at many social occasions. He just didn’t seem to realise it, or if he did, didn’t really care.

“Why have you never married Peter?” Isobel wasn’t aware she had spoken out aloud, until Peter looked across the room at her, his brows raised in surprise.

Glancing thoughtfully into the fire, a long silence settled between them, until Isobel wasn’t sure if he was going to bring himself to answer her.

“There was someone once,” he offered softly, clearly lost in memories. “Her name was Jemima.”

“Jemima,” Isobel repeated softly with a small smile. “That’s a nice name.” She was bursting to ask questions, but instead sat quietly, allowing Peter time for his memories.

“She was stunning with dark blonde hair and gorgeous amber eyes.” Sadness suffused Peter’s features for several moments, before being replaced with a bleak look that made Peter seem to very sad. Swiftly, he took a long drink from the goblet in his hand.

“What happened?” Isobel couldn’t recall having met a Jemima. Certainly, the lady in question couldn’t have been Ton.

“I made a horrendous mistake, and lost her,” Peter replied with a shake of his head. “I was going to ask her to marry me, but she left before I could get around to it. She was in trouble, and needed my help, but I failed her.” He stood up, and moved towards the fire to rest one booted foot on the fender in a stance so very similar to Dominic’s, that Isobel felt a brief flash of pain and longing for her husband.

“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.

Tags: Rebecca King Cavendish Mysteries Historical
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