If You Were Mine (8 page)

“
Worried?” Isobel queried, turning her gaze back to his. She
had so many questions to ask; so many things she wanted to say, but
at that moment couldn’t form the words.

Suddenly, she realised where she was. “I should not be here,
I must leave at once,” she gritted her teeth, and tried desperately
to raise herself from the bed only to have Dominic immediately push
her back down, a fierce glint of reproach in his eyes.

“
You are not going anywhere,” his voice was firm. “Where would
you expect to go anyway?” He was curious, but determined that she
wouldn’t be leaving the bed anytime soon, at least until she got
her strength back.

“
I don’t know,” she whispered feeling tears begin to well.
“But I cannot stay.”

Misery
swamped her. It was so wonderful to be close to the man whose
memory was now burned into her very soul, but the joy was marred by
the pain of being so close to someone who could never be
hers.

“
Why not?” Dominic asked, gently sitting down in the armchair
beside the bed. He smoothed a few stray strands of hair away from
her face, pleased when she didn’t flinch under his touch. Her
distress was clear and he wondered what had caused it.

He
quickly scanned the room, looking for anything amiss that would
upset her so. Moments ago she had been quite relaxed. Muddled, but
at ease. Now, she seemed so uncomfortable Dominic wouldn’t have
been surprised if she had jumped out of bed and ran straight out of
the room.

“
How long have I been here?” Isobel looked towards the window.
A fine blanket of snow covered what she could see of the ground
outside. The last time Isobel could remember being outside it had
been windy and raining, certainly too wet for snow to
settle.

“
You have been here for a week now,” Dominic replied, smiling
softly at her startled gasp. “It has been a very eventful week, I
can tell you,” he chided softly, watching her almost guilty
surprise.

“
I’m sorry,” Isobel tried once again to get out of the bed.
“I’ve imposed on your good nature long enough. I must leave.” She
tried desperately not to show just how weak she was, and wondered
how she would manage to get out of bed but felt she had to
try.

“
My good nature!” Dominic repeated with a frown. “What do you
expect me to do Isobel? Leave you out in the cold?” His voice was
incredulous.

“
I don’t want to cause you any more inconvenience.”

“
Inconvenience?” Dominic lurched to his feet, and stood beside
the bed as his temper rose. “What do you mean inconvenience? You
are not some bloody vague relation happening by.”

“
I’m sorry, I don’t mean to anger you. I just don’t want to
cause you any problems given our past -” Isobel glanced around the
room at a loss to find the right words, “- association.” She ended
weakly, and watched nervously as his temper rose.

“
Association?” Dominic shook his head once in stunned
surprise, knowing he sounded dense by keep repeating her sentences.
“We were lovers Isobel!” He hated to be so blunt, but they couldn’t
hide the fact that they had been far more than mere ‘associates’.
He felt irked that she could so blithely put him into that
category.

“
I just don’t want to make things awkward for you. Your wife
wouldn’t like me being here. This is your room, is it not?” Using
every ounce of courage within her, she ignored his bristling anger,
dropping her gaze to the coverlet across her knees. She began to
pluck randomly at the soft material as she continued. “I am sorry
for any discontent my presence here has already caused, if you
could get my clothes I shall leave forthwith.”

Once
again she tried to roll over, only to find herself firmly grasped
by the shoulders and pushed backward until she was lying upon the
bed. Reluctantly she gave in, and with a deep sigh flopped down on
the sheets, exhausted.

“
My what?” Dominic’s voice was deadly. His gaze captured and
held hers, anger clearly evident on the harshness of his features.
Everything within the lavishly decorated room seemed to pause. No
sound could be heard other than the wheezing rattle in her
chest.

“
Y-your wife,” Isobel replied, trying hard yet failing to keep
the quiver of hurt from her voice. She knew she should be angry,
but couldn’t seem to find a way through the hurt that flowed
through her veins like molten lava.

“
My wife,” Dominic replied dully, staring at her while a
growing lump of dread formed in his chest. “Who told you I had a
wife Isobel?” He tried to keep control of the anger building
within. He already knew the answer, but needed to hear it from her
lips.

His
heart jolted with surprise at her reply.

“
Aunt Elspeth.”

“
Elspeth?” His voice echoed incredulously. “Are you
sure?”

Isobel
sighed with impatience, and glared at him. Her voice rose to a high
squeak as she glared up at him defiantly. “Of course, I am sure!
What do you take me for? She told me she had received word from a
friend in London, who had been – somewhere,” Isobel paused with a
frown, but couldn’t locate the name in her memory. “She said the
source was reliable. Her friend had informed her that a few weeks
after leaving Willowbrook, you had travelled to your father’s
estate in Berkshire, and wed your betrothed in the family
chapel.”

Exhausted, Isobel slumped back against the pillow, her breath
coming in shallow pants as she fought not to cough. Misery swelled
in her chest as the familiar feeling of devastating loss swept
through her. Pride prevented her from allowing him to witness just
how miserable losing him had made her.

She
desperately wanted to cry, to rail at him and beat his chest for
his callous disregard of her. If only she had the strength.
Instead, she lay there and cursed her weakness once again. Despite
everything, she found herself at the mercy of a man who had cruelly
hurt her, the last man on earth she wanted to witness just how dire
her life had become.

“
Isobel.” There was something in the tone of his voice that
commanded her attention, and snapped her out of her melancholic
thoughts.

Determined not to let her tears flow in his presence, she
raised a frosty brow in his direction and waited.

“
I.” He leaned over her menacingly. “Am.” He placed a hand on
either side of her head. “Not.” His gaze locked upon hers. He
slowly lowered his head until his lips were mere inches from hers.
“Married.” He whispered as he placed a gentle kiss upon her stunned
lips.

His
mouth captured the soft cry she couldn’t withhold. His gentle
fingers swept away her tears as his lips worshipped her tenderly
with his lips and fingers, while she absorbed his words.

Could it
be true? He was not married to another? When he did eventually
raise his head to allow her to breathe, his eyes were full of
tender reproach. “How could you believe that I have such little
regard for you?”

“
There is no baby?” Isobel whispered shakily, unable to
believe her aunt could have been so wrong. Was she in cohorts with
Rupert?

“
There may be a baby when we are wed my darling,” he teased
with a gentle smile, sitting beside her on the bed. “But until
then, I can assure you that to my certain knowledge there is no
wife, and no child.” Silence settled between them for mere seconds
before his final words dropped like lead between them. “Not for me
at least.”

In her
fogged state, it took a few moments for the import of his words to
sink in, and she looked at him with a frown. “What do you
mean?”

He could
think of no gentle way to raise the question that was burning
inside him. “Did you marry Bertram DeLisle?” He couldn’t allow her
to see just how much her answer meant, and ignoring her startled
look moved to stand before the window with his back towards her. He
was aware of the crackling tension within the room as his gaze
roamed over the landscaped gardens blankly. All of his senses
locked on her lying so temptingly on his bed. His nerves were
stretched taut as he waited for her answer.

“
Dominic, I promised I would wait for you,” Isobel eyed his
tall frame highlighted so starkly by the sunlight shining through
the window. The surrounding halo of light emphasised his broad
shoulders and lean limbs to stunning perfection. “Nothing Rupert or
DeLisle could threaten me with could coerce me into marriage to
anyone.” Her voice sank to a whisper as the last vestiges of her
strength began to wane. She desperately didn’t want to sleep yet
she needed to continue the conversation. There was much to say, so
much to discover, but somehow it became so incredibly difficult
simply to keep her eyes open.

“
Dominic,” she whispered softly as sleep began to pull her
down. “I wouldn’t marry anyone else.” She was vaguely aware of him
approaching the bed but her eyes were already closed when she felt
the bed dip beneath his weight as he sat beside her. Her hand was
gently clasped between his much larger ones. “I’m so very tired,”
her whisper trailed away as she settled once again into slumber,
feeling more secure than she had felt in a very long
time.

“
Rest on my love, we have all the time in the world,” Dominic
declared softly, not sure if she had heard him. He surreptitiously
wiped away the single tear that had gathered in the corner of his
eye and gazed down at her for several moments. She was free, and
that was all he needed to know.

“
Thank God,” Dominic placed a tender kiss on her brow. “We
will be together,” he moved to sit beside her, easing her
slumbering form gently into his arms. Staring out of the window, he
watched the soft flurry of snowflakes gently drift past and began
to plan.

Sometime
during the night, he was woken by a strange noise. Wincing at the
sharp, stabbing discomfort in his stiff muscles as he sat upright,
he warily glanced around the room trying to place the noise. It was
a strange, almost like a rattling noise that whispered hauntingly
through the still night air. Something he had not heard before.
Quickly, he rose and crossed to the window, cursing fluidly at the
heavy snowfall drifting past the window pane.

Drawing
the curtains closed, he crossed to the fireplace and stoked the
fire, shivering at the ferocious sound of the howling winds
outside. By the sound of it the storm was a fierce one. He didn’t
envy anybody caught outside on such a night.

Squatting before the fireplace he paused and considered just
what implications a storm such as this would have had on Isobel had
he not discovered her. Already she was seriously ill, without the
freezing temperatures and dampness of the snowfall. She would have
most certainly succumbed, even if she had managed to find a warm
enough place to wait out the storm, what then?

He
frowned as he listened for the strange noise again. It had stopped.
He went cold all over when he realised what the noise had meant.
Racing towards the bed, he frantically lit the candles on the table
beside the bed, cursing fluidly as their meagre light encased
Isobel in a soft halo of golden colour.

“
Sweet Jesus,” Dominic whispered, his voice laced with horror
as he studied her alabaster features. Placing a palm against her
cheek, his concern rose alarmingly as his fingers touched her skin.
It was like cold, damp marble. She had indeed been sweating but now
was so very cold, despite the warmth of the room.

“
Isobel?” Tugging several times upon the bell pull, he paused
briefly to light more candles before returning to the
bed.

“
Isobel, darling? If you can hear me, open your eyes.” He
hated to acknowledge the fact, but he had witnessed a complexion
like hers many times on the battlefields. Soldiers mortally injured
had become pale and unresponsive moments before succumbing to the
great Lord. Frantically grabbing her shoulders, he sought to awaken
her as quickly as possible and shook her gently. He desperately
needed to see her beautiful blue gaze once more.

“
Isobel!” Shaking her shoulders far harder than he ought, he
watched as her head fell back helplessly against the soft mound of
pillow behind her. “Isobel, please?” His knew his voice was
pleading. Carefully lying her back down on the damp sheets, he
placed his hand in the hollow between her breasts. It took several
moments before his blind panic eased enough for him to feel her
faint heartbeat. “Thank God!” It was weak, but still
there.

Seconds
later, a soft knock upon the door heralded the arrival of a
dishevelled Manvers. “My Lord?” he queried, his face
stark.

“
Go and fetch Mrs Holcombe. Isobel’s taken a turn for the
worse!” Dominic’s voice was brusque. “Quickly man!” he snapped,
carefully tugging the blankets around Isobel and sitting beside her
on the bed. He didn’t quite know what he expected Mrs Holcombe to
do, but she was wise and had readily helped tend to Isobel since
her arrival with a calm matter of fact manner that had instantly
eased Dominic’s fears.

Whenever
anyone was ill in the house, family or staff, Mrs Holcombe always
had a remedy that would set them on to the road to recovery. She
would know what to do about Isobel now. Certainly, they would not
be able to send someone to fetch the doctor until the snow eased.
If the sound of the increasing winds rattling the window panes were
any indication, that wouldn’t be any time soon.