The Wicked Heir (Spare Heirs #3)(52)
“If one finds love, one will find happiness,” she continued on, unaware how out of his depths he was. “There will be no fighting, no hurt. But I’m hurt. Horribly hurt.” She leaned her head against his shoulder and stared ahead into the dying flames of the fire.
Against all he knew was wise, he adjusted his position and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He couldn’t sit by and allow her to be in pain, physical or mental, and do nothing to offer her comfort. She’d called him a friend, hadn’t she? Surely this was within the realm of friendly behavior. Only a second later, she leaned into him as if she’d done so a thousand times before. And he grazed his fingers over the soft skin on her upper arm just beneath the short sleeve of her dress as if it was the most natural, easy action he’d ever made. It was so simple, so easy, and that made it that much more dangerous.
This is not the way to keep her at a safe distance, Fal. But he ignored the warning.
“I always thought love would be the golden light that daydreams are made of. It would shine all around me, and my days would forevermore be filled with joy. But I find I’m left rather empty—after Hardaway and then my attempt to be open to finding a new love with Mr. Grapling.”
“You love your sister,” he countered.
“I do. And she betrayed me. My heart aches from it.” Isabelle sniffed and curled even closer to his side.
Had her sister truly betrayed Isabelle? Ladies were expected to do as their families required of them. And Fallon had made certain that her family had required Victoria to marry Hardaway. It had been the best solution to his problem at the time. It was his job to keep the Spares operational, and he didn’t regret his actions. Now, however, sitting with Isabelle, hearing how deeply the matter had hurt her, was…less than ideal.
Guilt assaulted him, making him glad Isabelle wasn’t looking up at him just now. But even if he hadn’t forced the marriage to occur, she still wouldn’t be with Hardaway. What hold did the man have on her? And more irritating still, when would that hold end? The entire subject filled him with the restless need to get up and pace the room or stir the fire, but he didn’t move. Perhaps if Fallon could help mend things between Isabelle and her sister, it would ease his mind. Finally he asked, “Did your sister have a choice in the matter?”
“I would have refused to marry the man I knew she loved,” Isabelle murmured.
A muscle near his eye twitched at her continued proclamation that she loved blasted Hardaway, but he didn’t otherwise react. Instead Fallon shifted to meet her gaze. “She did just that.” Aside from believing herself in love with his most unsuitable friend, Isabelle had the wrong of the situation where her sister was involved. Victoria hadn’t betrayed Isabelle at all. “Isabelle, she didn’t marry Hardaway. It only took her time to come to the same conclusion as you. She was doing what your father required her to do in the beginning, but in the end, she couldn’t go along with those plans.”
“Hmmm, I hadn’t considered it in that light. But that would mean… Am I the reason why she fled the church? I’d assumed…knowing Victoria’s opinion on marriage…”
Fallon didn’t answer, since he didn’t know the truth behind the lady’s actions, but he rather suspected Isabelle had something to do with Victoria running away.
“If that is true, it’s a rather large weight lifted.” She released a heavy sigh and sank back against him once again.
Fallon stroked the outside of her arm and stared into the fire. Her cheek pressed to his chest as she leaned against him, her legs curled up beside her. How long had they been here? It was the middle of the day. His men would be looking for him. Yet he didn’t make a move to leave.
“He should have demanded my hand instead, come to my rescue,” Isabelle said as if it were part of an ongoing conversation, seemingly unaware that they’d been sitting together in companionable silence.
“Who?”
“Hardaway,” she explained, sitting up just enough to meet his gaze. “The lady’s true love always comes to her rescue in the end, but he didn’t even put up a fight about marrying my sister.”
“He certainly drank himself into a stupor over the news,” Fallon recalled.
“Did he mention me?”
His answer would only cause her further pain. He wanted to take her hurt away. But perhaps it would be like a piece of metal being taken from a wound. It hurt like the devil as it happened, but it allowed the wound to heal. Fallon watched her, debating the issue for another moment before answering. “No. He didn’t mention you.”
“Oh.” She frowned up at him, her cheeks growing pink with the knowledge. “He didn’t think of me when he arranged to marry my sister,” she confirmed, her words thick with emotion. “He didn’t think of me at all.”
Isabelle was worthy of all the happiness life had to offer. She should never be made to feel less than perfect. She was full of life and was everything bright and beautiful in the world. He would do anything to take that look off of her face.
“I thought of you,” he offered, wanting to help her, to fix this. He never spoke so openly to anyone. What was happening to him?
“What did you think?”
“I considered how hurt you would be,” he admitted, keeping to himself the part where he was responsible for setting everything in motion. “I knew you fancied yourself in love with Hardaway.”