Page 20 of The Baron’s Halo

She bent her head and gave a quiet sob. “I…cannot.” Raising her head, she gazed into his face again—a face that had frozen into a stunned mask of disbelief. “I’m so sorry, Sandy. But I simply cannot.”

Uncomprehending, Sandy automatically squeezed her hand. What was she saying? “Isabelle?”

With a heart-wrenching sob, Isabelle tore her hand from his, picked up her skirts, and fled back down the aisle and out the ballroom door.

Unable to move, as though he’d been nailed to the floor, Sandy could only watch her go, shaking his head as if to deny the evidence of his own eyes.

Isabelle was gone.

A deafening chatter erupted from the wedding guests, but Sandy scarcely heard them. His gaze had fixed on the doorway through which his bride—his beloved Isabelle—had fled from him.

“Sandy. Sandy!” A rough hand seized his shoulder and he was abruptly spun around to face an irate Yule. “What the hell is going on?”

Still barely aware of anything, save the knowledge Isabelle had left him, Sandy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Suddenly, he was inundated with people jostling him, everyone trying to get close enough to demand the same questions over and over again.

“What happened? Where did she go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where is Isabelle?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened, Sandy?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why did Isabelle run away?”

“I don’t know!” He wrenched himself away from his mother, who had asked that last question. He would go mad if this questioning didn’t stop. “Can someone go look for her?” His gaze fell on Grace, whose stricken face was wet with tears. She sniffed, nodded, and hurried from the room.

“What is the meaning of this, Lord MacKay?” Captain Grey had shoved his way to the front of the group of concerned guests clustered around Sandy. “What did you do to make Isabelle run away like that?”

“What did I do?” Sandy wheeled around on the larger gentleman, his blood heating instantly. “I might ask the same of you, sir. It is you she was fleeing.”

“Indeed? It appeared to me as though she sought to escape you, my lord.” The smirk on Grey’s face was the last straw for Sandy. He drew back and let fly a right hook Langham himself would have been proud of.

The captain stumbled backward and would have come for Sandy had Alex and Julius not restrained him. Yule grabbed Sandy by the arm as well. “Don’t feed what is easily going to be the scandal of the week, cuz.”

Sandy had shaken off Yule’s grip, almost deciding to go for Grey again anyway, when Grace hurried back into the ballroom. “My lord, she’s gone.”

“Gone?” Sandy held up a hand as Yule attempted to grab his arm. “What do you mean? Gone where?”

“I’m not sure, my lord. I searched for her on this floor and asked a maid if she’d seen a lady on the first floor, but she said no. Then I went to the entryway and found the butler. He said she’d run out the door and flung herself into the carriage.” Grace gulped. “The one you and Isabelle were supposed to set off in for your wedding trip.”

Sandy ran his hand through his hair. “Where might she go, Grace?”

“Home, my lord?”

Sandy shook his head vehemently. He’d not believe that unless he saw it with his own eyes. “No, there must be somewhere else.”

“Perhaps she’s gone back to Miss Horton’s home, Sandy.” Yule’s steady voice was a godsend. “Let’s take my carriage. I’ll tell the others.”

Nodding, Sandy bowed to the still trembling Grace, who bobbed a curtsy and ran off toward the ballroom. He then headed to the foyer, bent on finding a place to hide himself until Yule arrived. In no mood to engage with any of his relations, who would likely be trooping through here any minute, Sandy headed into a small receiving room on the right. The waiting was interminable, but at last Yule popped his head in. “Let’s go.”

As they settled themselves into the comfortable leather seats of the carriage, Sandy noticed the conveyances for his other relations still present in and around the front of the townhouse. “Didn’t anyone leave?”