Page 106 of The Lover's Eye
“When she first came to me with the news, that she was—um, with child,” Pemberton said, eyeing Marriane uncomfortably, “she had suggested going to see the witch.I managed to talk her out of the scheme, but I realized then the chit had been slipping around, still planning to go through with it.”
“She owed you nothing,” Isobel snapped.“Do not speak as though she did.”
Pemberton scowled at her, but settled back into his chair and continued.“I confess to losing my temper.I told her Trev was only marrying her to save her virtue, and I wouldn’t let her fleece him.I was to have Dr.Dunn examine her, make sure she hadn’t taken some cursed tincture.”
Giles sighed beside Isobel, muttering an oath.“Christ, man.No wonder she was in a fit of rage when she came to see me.”
Marriane’s small hand worked methodically over her handkerchief.Her cheeks were flushed with hot, feverish color.“Martin, when did you begin your liaison?Did you truly decide I wasn’t enough, so early into our marriage?”
“No,” Pemberton said, leaping up to sit at her bedside.“It was an arrangement of longstanding.I—I hadn’t intended for it to continue, but it was a habit, a …”
Isobel looked away, feeling her and Giles’s place in the room was finished.She still despised Pemberton, thought it likely she always would, but there was urgent earnestness in his voice and mannerisms now.And in Marriane’s teary eyes?
A sister could never mistake that lost, swimming look: unconditional love.
“What a fool I am,” Pemberton whispered, rubbing his hand over Marriane’s.“And this has been your ailment, all the while?Have you truly worried yourself sick over me?”
“We shall give you your privacy,” Isobel said, exchanging a meaningful look with Giles.The couple did not break their hushed conversation, as if they hadn’t heard her at all.
Giles grabbed Isobel’s hand and pulled her into the corridor and down the stairs.They let out a unified sigh when they reached the quiet entry hall, shoulders sagging.
“Well then,” she said.“Shall we wait on them to dine, or …?”
Giles wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him.“Or what?”
“I thought you might wish to take me home.”
“Oh, I wouldloveto take you home, my sweet Isobel.”He leant down to kiss her forehead, the tip of her nose, her mouth.His kisses were sincere and intense, parting her lips until she felt the scrape of his teeth nibble her lower lip.
“Giles!”she giggled, putting a sliver of space between their faces.Her gaze darted to a nearby footman, who she hadn’t noticed wavering in the corner until now.It was the same man who had first aided them in passing notes.
Giles turned to meet his gaze, giving the young man a knowing nod of recognition.The footman returned the gesture, breaking his stoic expression to grin approvingly at the happy couple.
In the next instant, Isobel was being swept into her husband’s arms and carried out the door.He tossed a sovereign into the footman’s hand as they crossed the threshold.
“Thank you kindly,” Giles called, jogging down the steps and toward the waiting carriage, Isobel giggling in his arms all the while.
Epilogue
Eight months later
January 1815
“I think we’ve conjured bad luck.”
Isobel jumped at the warm, masculine voice tickling her ear.Its timbre was coarse and lush, achingly familiar.She generally didn’t like surprises, but Giles sneaking up behind her?
She turned into him with a sigh, nuzzling against his front.One of his arms came around her, and he laid a kiss to her forehead.
“Why do you say that?”she asked, looking out over the sea of warm faces in their dining room.For two people who thrived in solitude, they had outdone themselves with celebrations for the New Year.“They look rather joyful to me.”
Even though Isobel had put herself at a distance, leaning on the door casing to observe the scene, it was done out of appreciation.It wasniceto see Cambo House filled with life.Every clinking glass was its own celebration, every plate emptied of roast beef and plum pudding a nod to fellowship.
“It’s not their enjoyment in question, my love.Finch purchased enough strong beer to assure that wouldn’t be an issue.”
Isobel chuckled, her eyes locating the old butler in the corner of the room.It had been nearly a week since he’d received his Christmas present, and still he toted it around, gleefully showing anyone who cared to listen.He extended the black and gilt teapot to Abigail now, extolling her with details of the masterful replication.
“What is it, then?Don’t hold me in suspense,” Isobel said with a grin.
