What You Deserve (Anything for Love 3)

His throat was so tight he could barely speak. “I loved you. Why would I have wanted any of those things?”

Time stopped momentarily.

A heart-wrenching cry burst from Isabella’s lips. “No! Please Lord, no.” Her knees buckled; her legs gave way, and she crumpled to a heap on the floor. “Please, it cannot be true.” She bowed her head, her body shaking as she sobbed uncontrollably.

In his dazed state, it took him a few seconds to react. He knelt down, put his hand on her shoulder. Damn, he could not stop the water welling in his eyes.

“Come,” he said knowing he had to remain calm for both their sakes. “Let me help you to your feet. Let us sit and talk.”

Despite the painful emotions, vengeance flamed to life in his chest. Someone would pay. At this precise moment, he didn’t care who.

He cupped her elbow, brought them both to their feet. She fell into his arms as her legs struggled to support her weight. For a time he held her there, rubbed his hand over her back in small circular motions until her breathing slowed.

“Tell me it is not true,” she muttered into his chest. “I can live with loss but I cannot live with this.” She pulled away and looked up at him, her puffy red eyes revealing the extent of her sorrow. “Do you know what hurts me most of all?”

“No.” The word was quieter than a whisper.

“You went away believing I did not love you.”

He sighed as he brushed a lock of ebony hair from her face. “I was told you had made a mistake. I woke to find you gone, soon discovered you had married.”

She closed her eyes briefly as another tear fell. “And so … so you ran away to France. You’ve spent five years believing I abandoned you to marry another. I can understand why you did not want to come home.”

He would have done anything to avoid seeing her again. He should have had more faith. “Mr. Chandler told me that illogical behaviour often stems from a misunderstanding. I would have questioned your motives for leaving had I been given more time.”

“Then I am the one to blame.” She shook her head vigorously. “I should have come to you. I should have demanded an explanation before running off into the night. My only defence is that I was vulnerable, a young girl without family, a young girl so easily manipulated by those she thought she could trust.”

“We are not to blame,” he said firmly. The guilt was not theirs to bear. “Someone ruined our lives for their own purpose, and I will not rest until I discover the reason why.”

She gave a weak smile. “Then know that I feel the same way. But all is not lost. We have salvaged something from the wreckage. You came to my aid when I needed help even though you were convinced I had abandoned you to marry another. That is the sign of a true friend, Tristan. Whatever wickedness was at play here, they have not succeeded in their effort to keep us apart. Despite all we believed to be true, we were able to put our differences aside and come together.”

“And together we will find the answers. We will discover the truth.” He glanced at the drinks tray, at the amber liquid calling to him from the decanter. “I’m in need of a drink, and then we shall sit down and relive the painful memories of that night.”

“Then I shall join you,” she said dabbing the corner of her eye with the pad of her finger. “We must be honest with each other now, though I know it will hurt.”

He poured himself a glass of brandy, her a sherry, remained silent through the process for his mind continued to recall the gut-wrenching moment his mother told him Isabella had married Lord Fernall.

“These things are for the best,” his mother had said. “The girl obviously doesn’t care for you.”

Those words had been a lie.

Someone had written the letter on his behalf. While the motive for such an evil betrayal eluded him, there were but three people with the opportunity to deceive. His father and brother were dead. With only his mother left to question, he had to accept there was a possibility he would never discover the truth.

“I keep replaying the events over in my mind,” Isabella said as he handed her the glass of sherry before sitting in the chair opposite. “I find myself forced to question Andrew’s motives for being so kind to me these last few years. And I do not want to think ill of him when he is not here to defend himself.”

“Based on what we know, it is fair to say that at least one member of my family was involved in the deception.” He swallowed his brandy, let the wa

rmth of the spirit soothe him. “Andrew was spoilt, often jealous. It would not surprise me to learn he acted out of spite. He was the only person who knew of our elopement. He expected us to leave Kempston in the dead of night, which was why I chose to hire a carriage and leave at noon.”

“You meant to give us a few hours start?”

“I knew he would not think to alert my parents until we failed to come down for dinner.”

She smiled. “You never mentioned any of this at the time.”

He inclined his head respectfully. “As the gentleman, it was my responsibility to ensure I planned for every eventuality. The mistakes I made were foolish when I think back now. Marcus would chastise me for my naivety. But I was just a boy, desperately trying to be a man.”

“We were young and in love, of course we were naive and foolish.” She took a sip of her sherry. “Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like had your father not discovered us at the coaching inn?”