Page 23 of The Baron’s Halo

“He asked after Miss Devereaux, ma’am. I didn’t ask his name.”

“Is…is it a tall gentleman, Davis?” Isabelle rose, determined to take flight if need be.

“No, miss. A shorter gentleman, only a little taller than yourself.” She turned her attention to her mistress. “Is that all, ma’am? Shall I fetch him in?”

Isabelle sat back down, relief pouring through her. Not Ambrose. Then she shot up in her seat. If not her stepfather, then it could only be… “Sandy.”

Grandmother looked inordinately pleased. “I told you your young gentleman would come for you.” Then to the maid, she said, “Show him in, Davis.”

“But, Grandmama—”

Her grandmother’s eyes bored into her, until Isabelle had to look away. “No, Isabelle. If he has taken the trouble to follow you all the way up here, he deserves an audience.”

Much to her dismay, she knew Grandmama was right. That did not make the situation any less painful, however. Isabelle hung her head and braced herself.

The door opened again and Sandy…no, Lord MacKay, entered, his mien sober. The smiling, friendly, helpful gentleman she’d depended on had gone, leaving only a man who looked as though he expected her to pull a knife and stab him in the heart. Perhaps that was what she’d already done.

The whole journey up to Carlisle she’d tried to prepare herself for this inevitable meeting, tried to maintain a cool, calm demeanor. She might as well have saved herself the trouble. Her heart took off beating so hard, she feared he could hear it. He looked so distant, his dark suit giving him a stark look she’d never seen before and didn’t much like. It was too severe for the kind man she’d wanted to marry. She feared that kindness had gone for good.

He bowed to her. “Miss Devereaux.” He clipped the syllables of her name so sharply, she scarcely recognized it. Glancing to her grandmother, his face softened and Isabelle took heart a little. “Would you be so kind as to introduce me to your grandmother?”

Trying to hide her trembling, Isabelle rose. “Grandmama, may I introduce Lord MacKay, of Carnwath. My lord, my grandmother, Mrs. Devereaux.”

“Delighted to meet you, ma’am.” He executed a short bow flawlessly. “Despite the circumstances, I bring you best wishes from Mrs. Grey.” He turned to Isabelle, his face hardening. “She sends her regards to you as well, Isabelle, although she has been terribly worried about you. As we all have.”

That was fair. As she hadn’t wanted to reveal her whereabouts to her stepfather, she’d refused to send word to her mother. The telegram she’d received from her yesterday had gone unanswered.

“I am sorry for your trouble, my lord. I had good reason to conceal my location from Captain Grey, as you well know. I am sorry if my mother is worried, but I did what I thought best.”

“You thought it best to let me believe you loved me, Isabelle? That you wished to marry me? How was it best to leave me at the altar without a single word to tell me why?” The pain in his face tied her heart in knots.

She’d done what she’d thought best for both of them in making a clean break. Perhaps she’d been wrong in that. She suspected she’d find out in their coming conversation.

“I am very pleased to meet you, Lord MacKay.” Grandmama rose stiffly. She waved away Sandy’s offer of assistance and reached for her cane. “I will leave you two to your discussion. I am certain you will both find illumination by the end of it.” Making her way slowly to the door, Grandmama kept her gaze on Lord MacKay. “I will say this, Isabelle.” She paused at the threshold. “You have excellent taste in gentlemen.”

Heat raced to Isabelle’s face and she fervently wished it were permissible to upbraid one’s elders in public.

As if she could hear her granddaughter’s thoughts, Grandmama went out the door with a chuckle, closing it behind her.

“I like your grandmother.” Sandy crossed to the chair opposite Isabelle and sat. “She puts me in mind of my mother. No nonsense and right to the point.” He continued to stare at Isabelle, making her dread the coming conversation even more.

“I have traveled a long way to ask you a single question, Isabelle. I ask only that you give me a true answer to it.”

Slowly, she nodded. She owed him that at least. Still, she’d put it off as long as she could. “Would you like some tea?”

An exasperated sigh escaped him, but he nodded. “Yes, please. Milk and—”

“Two lumps. I remember.” Hand shaking, she took up the teapot and poured carefully, taking her time as she plopped in the lumps, then added the milk until it was the exact shade he liked. Drawing out the time before she must explain herself—and lose Sandy forever—she handed him the cup, took a deep breath to steady herself, then clasped her hands in her lap. “What did you wish to ask me, my lord?”

Taking his time, Sandy sipped his tea, his gaze squarely on her. After what seemed an eternity, he set the cup down and leaned forward. “Did you never love me at all, Isabelle? Was I completely wrong in believing you did? Was I truly only a means to an end for you?”

Stunned, Isabelle stared at him, trying to open her mouth, trying to form an answer to the last question she’d been expecting. She’d been prepared for “Why did you leave?” But this question…well, there was only one truthful answer she could give, painful as it was. “I did love you, Sandy. I do love you still. If you will believe anything, believe that. How could I not fall in love with someone so kind, so generous, so…good?”

As though she’d uttered magic words, he puffed out a breath he’d been holding, the charming smile she loved so much spreading across his face. “Thank God, Isabelle.” He seized her hand and kissed it, sending a streak of warmth all the way to her heart. “You cannot know the agony I’ve been in all this time, thinking I’d done something to upset you. Something that…I don’t know, reminded you of your stepfather, although I couldn’t imagine what it could have been.” He stopped, dropped his gaze from hers. “You will likely hear of this when we return to London, but I will tell you myself. I punched Captain Grey just after you left my grandfather’s house.”

“You punched Ambrose?” Shocked, Isabelle forgot her nervousness. “You really hit him?”

“I did.” He sniggered. “Gave him a knock so hard, blood flew.”