here,’ he continued, his words almost a retreat because dealing with his sisters had taught him that was the best way of attack. ‘While you were born to sing, I was born to be a viscount, to produce children and take care of the properties that I inherit. And I rather hoped you would help with some of the parts of that which I cannot possibly manage alone.’
Her hands stilled, but remained clasped. She looked at the floor. ‘I am sorry that my leaving will prevent the heirs, but I do not know how I could leave children behind, so...perhaps I should go soon.’
‘It doesn’t work that way, either.’
She twirled and plopped down on the bed. ‘I have your interests at heart, of course. I know you do not want to be married.’ Her shoulders wobbled, but it wasn’t in weakness, more of a stance he’d seen on a bull as it locked hooves into the ground, ready to charge ahead.
Life with Sophia, Rosalind and Harriet had prepared him for this. ‘You are very correct.’ His sisters would have pulled a face, but Isabel had not heard him make that same remark a score of times.
He gave her a chance to absorb how correct she was, then added, ‘We do not have to think of ourselves as married. We are merely two friendly people under the same roof.’ With his sisters, he would have retreated before they realised they’d been contradicted, but they were used to his instruction. Instead, he planted his feet firm. ‘Friendly.’
Dismay flitted across her face, but then she looked up.
Her shoulders relaxed. ‘But I could go for a while to the Americas. Do not rule out the value of having a wife who doesn’t live in the same country.’
This would not be the time to agree. ‘I want you with me.’
‘But you left. In the night,’ she said.
‘I went to Sophia’s.’
‘You left.’
‘Yes. I felt the need to.’
‘I understand.’ Her lips tightened after speaking. She looked at the healing mark on her arm. ‘I suppose it is all right.’
‘We hardly know each other.’
‘Which can only be corrected one way.’
He moved to her and knelt on one knee. He clasped her fingers and waited until her eyes met his. ‘I do not have it in me...to form a close attachment.’
‘Not if you are leaving before morning.’
He squeezed her fingers, hoping to soften the determined chin with his earnest words. ‘I can’t change the side of the world the sun rises on. I can’t change much in this life. I had thought to love before, but I discovered it cannot be done.’
‘Give me a chance. Just to know that you like me would be pleasant.’
‘I do like you, Isabel. Of course, I do.’ Of course. Of course.
‘Then why does it matter that I stay?’ she asked.
‘I need an heir.’ The next words almost hurt his mouth and he chose them carefully, realising them for the first time himself. ‘And I would not mind some respectability in my life. While I don’t intend to become a doddering old saint, I would like, should I have children, for them to have a pleasant childhood. I would like them to have a mother, and a woman trained such as yourself would be the best, absolute best, mother a child could have.’
She lowered her chin and gazed up. ‘I was not the top student at the governess school.’
‘I’m sure you’ll make a good mother.’
She looked at the side table. ‘If they were my own little ones, I think it might be wise if a true governess were hired—I did not pay as much attention to the lessons as perhaps I should. I planned to forget every study as soon as I walked from the door.’ She clucked her tongue. ‘Sometimes my plans are successful.’
‘You’ll be able to love the children and that’s what’s important.’
‘Of course.’ Her smile beamed. ‘I did like it when a new student arrived and I loved them all. Miss Fanworth sometimes chose me to take them around the first few days, but she never chose me to help them with lessons.’
‘I can help with the studies,’ he said, leaning just close enough that he could get a whiff of roses. ‘And you can bring sunshine into their lives.’
‘I could.’
He rubbed the knuckles of her hand against his cheek. ‘And why don’t you get a larger bed—one big enough for two to be comfortable?’
A quick dart of her head took her full expression from his view.
‘And would you be spending the night in it?’
‘It would not do for a lady’s maid to walk in to help you wake and find me half-naked.’
‘My parents were quite comfortable to sleep in the same room. It is not entirely unreasonable. A servant can wait until summoned.’
‘But the town house is large enough for comfort. In the country, roosters crow to wake the house. Here, servants open the curtains.’
She took in a breath and her eyes didn’t return to him. ‘It is indeed unfortunate that no roosters are about.’ Pulling her fingers from his, she tapped her chin. ‘But, in that case, I want to keep my present sleeping place. In the night, I need to be able to feel both sides of the bed.’
‘I understand.’
She took in a breath and moved her body aside and hopped to her feet. ‘So do I. I will not trouble you. You will not even know I am here. I will send notes to the butler when I need something from you and he will relay it. You need not see me except for the briefest moments and a few events needed for respectability. I know that I owe you and I will repay you in heirs.’
At the door, she grasped the frame, but turned to him. ‘Please do not get too attached to me as I do think the idea of moving and changing my name has much merit.’
In two steps he was at the door.
‘Is—’ He put his hand over the one she rested on the door frame, holding her steady. ‘You must give me your word you will not act on that thought.’
‘I would ne—’
‘Isabel.’ Innocent, innocent, innocent eyes stared at him. ‘Your word.’ He could not risk her rushing off to some destination only she thought wise.
A frown. A pause. ‘I will not leave.’ She met his eyes. ‘I will make this my home. I will make this a home.’
Isabel listened to the clattering of the carriage wheels over stones and the sound vibrated into her ears and stayed. The maid sat beside her. The servant was a good two score older and would be the proper chaperon. Isabel didn’t
