Page 99 of A Night of Forever
A tear slid down her cheek. How did a woman know if a man loved her? Or if he loved her enough? She’d trusted Arend with her suspicions. She’d trusted him with her body. And now she longed to trust him with her heart.
As the drugs and pain mingled, Isobel tried to think through the fog in her head. What had Victoria said about Mademoiselle Boldier? That Arend had been her lover. That he’d killed her.
If Arend wanted to have a life with her, he would have to share his past.
She fell asleep knowing that a life without Arend would be empty and lonely, but that a life with only part of him would leave her devastated.
—
Her throbbing arm woke her. It hurt like the devil. She needed more laudanum.
When she forced her eyes to open, it was to find her father sitting by her bed. He looked as though he’d aged years in the eighteen months since she’d seen him last.
He handed her a small vial of blessed laudanum. “I thought you might need this about now.”
He helped her sit up enough to drink the sickly sweet liquid.
Once she was settled back in the bed, her father lowered his head into his hands. “I’m so sorry, my dear child. This is my fault. I let that woman into our lives. But I swear I had no idea she would plot to kill your friends.”
Isobel agreed, but she had to be just. “If Victoria hadn’t used you, she would have found another way to hurt the Libertine Scholars.”
His head jerked up. “I don’t care about the Libertine Scholars. I care about you. You would not have been involved. You would not have had to agree to an engagement with Lord Labourd.”
She could not argue with that part, and her father’s shoulders slumped further as they sat in silence. She didn’t know what else to say.
Yes, she did. “Why, Father?”
His eyes turned bleak, and his head dropped into his hands once more.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Victoria? If I had known that you were unhappy with her as your wife, I would have tried to help.”
“It was too dangerous for you to know.” His knuckles turned white, and his jaw clenched and unclenched. “Look what happened to Taggert.”
“That’s not the only reason, is it?” She thought of Arend and his shame about those five missing years. Her father was ashamed.
“How could I tell you that I’d gotten myself into this situation by being a fool? I got so deep into debt I saw no way out. She bought up my notes. All she asked in order to forgive my debt to her was to make her my wife. To give her a title, a place in society, seemed very little to pay to keep us from debtor’s prison. I had no idea of her grand plans for revenge,” he said quietly. “If I had, I would have found another way.”
“I would have given you my dowry money.”
“How could I tell you? You looked up to me. You were all that was good in my life. I was afraid I’d lose you if you found out how flawed I was, learned of my mistakes,.”
What was wrong with the men in her life? Did all of them think she was some kind of judgmental monster? “You didn’t trust me enough to be understanding. I would not have judged you. I would have helped you.”
“I—I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk losing you. You’re all I have.” His eyes came back to her face and settled there, full of tears. “Have I lost you?”
She took his hand and squeezed. “Of course not. I don’t—didn’t—expect you to be perfect. I just wanted you to love me.”
He blinked. “I do love you,” he said. “But have I lost your respect? I couldn’t bear you to look at me with pity or derision, or—God forbid—have you despise me.”
He paused for a moment before adding, “Then there was another consideration. If society found out what I had done, the truth about who I had married, you would have been ruined. I could not let that happen. So I played the doting husband even though she made my skin crawl.”
Isobel looked at her father, the revelation having shaken every part of her body and taken her breath away. It was all very well to expect people to share their past, their mistakes, and to bare their very souls, but it could—and would—change everything. If someone wanted the right to know the bad things in a person’s past, that person had to be willing to be there to lend support. They couldn’t judge or blame. That wasn’t fair.
Everyone was flawed. No one was perfect. What was important in life was that the people around you loved you. Cared about you. Would give up their world for you. Were they good at heart and trying to make a decent life for themselves and those they loved? She loved her father and always would. Nothing would change that.
Her future relationship with her father would change. It would be deeper, more honest, because now she saw him as a man, not a saint who could do no wrong. Her hero-worshiping eyes had been opened, which, she decided, was not a bad thing. She didn’t want perfection. She wanted something real.
Even though her father had married this evil woman, she admired him for trying to protect her from his mistakes.
