The Portrait Read online

  Roger began to scramble to his feet. “But where can I go?” Now it was his turn to be frightened.

  Good, I thought.

  Leo said, “I don’t give a damn where you go as long as it’s far away from Isabel. I don’t want to see or hear from you again.”

  “But I have no money!” By now Roger was on his feet and maintaining a safe distance from Leo.

  There was a pause. Then Leo said in a calmer voice, “I’ll leave some money with Hobbs. You may ride Brownie to the inn and I will collect him in the morning.”

  Leo’s sense of responsibility was reasserting itself. Too bad, I thought. I would have liked to see Roger starve.

  Roger was looking stunned as well as frightened. “But…she’s only a circus girl, Leo. It’s not as if she’s a real lady.”

  I saw Leo’s hands close into fists.

  I said hurriedly, “Get out of here Roger before Leo kills you.” I wouldn’t mind seeing Roger dead, but I didn’t want his blood on Leo’s conscience.

  Roger went.

  *

  After Roger disappeared into the stable Leo turned to me. “Are you all right, Isabel? Did he…hurt…you?”

  “He scared me, Leo.” My voice trembled. “I couldn’t fight him off. If you hadn’t come, he would have raped me.”

  “That’s certainly what it looked like.” Leo looked very white in the moonlight, very white and very angry. I knew this situation was partly my fault; I shouldn’t have come out here alone. I said in a little voice, “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t answer and I started to shake again. If Leo hadn’t come….

  He said, “You’re safe now, sweetheart.”

  He opened his arms and I went into them.

  Oh the comfort of being in Leo’s arms! He was much stronger than Roger, but I knew that his strength would always be used to protect me, never to harm me. I started to cry and then couldn’t stop. I soaked the shoulder of his coat, and he rubbed my back and spoke softly into my ear.

  When I had recovered myself somewhat, I lifted my tear-streaked face out of his shoulder and looked up at him.

  The moonlight showed me the familiar chiseled bones of his face, but his blue eyes were dark and unreadable. I produced a wobbly smile and said in a wobbly voice, “Thank God you came.”

  Our bodies were still touching, and my face was turned up to his. He didn’t answer; he just bent his head and kissed me.

  My initial feeling was shock. What was Leo doing? But then something in me leaped in response and I slid my arms around his waist, leaned into him and kissed him back. His arms tightened. My heart was pounding. I could feel his kiss all the way down into my stomach. It was wonderful.

  The spell was broken when his hands grasped my shoulders and lifted me away from him. We stood in the moonlight looking at each other and I knew that everything between us had changed.

  “I should not have done that,” he said. “I’m sorry Isabel.”

  Sorry? What did he mean? I looked up into his darkened eyes and hard-set face. “Why should you be sorry?”

  “I took advantage of you; you were frightened and you turned to me for comfort. Christ! I’m almost as bad as that bloody Roger!”

  “You are nothing like Roger. I hated Roger’s kiss, but yours…I liked yours, Leo.” I gripped my hands together to keep from reaching up and smoothing the hair that had fallen across his forehead. “I liked it very much.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, dislodging more golden strands. He didn’t say anything, and he was starting to look grim.

  I said, “If it was such a terrible thing to do, why did you do it?”

  The grim look softened a little and he said, “I have been wanting to do it for a long time, Isabel. I’m afraid the events of the night caused me to lose my restraint.”

  I stared at him in astonishment. “You’ve wanted to kiss me? You never told me that!”

  “Your father trusted you to my care. I have behaved abominably.”

  “Perhaps you should behave abominably again,” I suggested. That kiss had been earth shattering.

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  The look on his face stopped me from saying anything else.

  “You are going to come up to the house with me, and in the morning I will tell the others that Roger decided it was time for him to leave.” He took my arm rather roughly and began to walk me up the pathway.

  “How did you know to come and look for me?” I asked, as I skipped to keep up with his long steps.

  “Hobbs told me you had gone to the stable by yourself. He was worried about you. He knows Roger and he knew Roger wasn’t in the house.”

  I felt terrible. “I was rude to Hobbs and he was my savior. I will beg his pardon tomorrow.”

  “That would be most appropriate.”

  We had reached the doorway and before he could open it I put a restraining hand on his arm and said softly, “Leo...?”

  He sighed. “I know. It’s unreasonable to expect you to forget what happened. Tomorrow, after we both have had a chance to think, we’ll talk.”

  “Shall we ride out early?”

  “I’ll meet you at the stable at seven.”

  “Good.”

  We were standing inside the doorway and Leo had the key in his hand. He said, “Go to bed, Isabel. I’ll lock up here.”

  I wanted to touch him so badly, but I knew he didn’t want me to. So I left him there and went upstairs to bed. I didn’t fall asleep for a long time.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I lay awake for a long time. Something serious had happened between Leo and me tonight; so serious that I didn’t think we would ever be able to return to what we had been.

  I had never before thought about the nature of my friendship with Leo. We had ridden together, laughed together, talked about Camden Hall and what it meant to him, what his responsibilities were to his tenants and his family. I had talked about the circus and my life on the road. We had even talked about our revolution in France, and he had listened seriously when I explained it to him from the point of view of struggling French families. He had been my friend.

  That kiss had changed everything. It had not been a kiss of friendship. It had not been a kiss of comfort. It had been a kiss of passion. And I liked it so much I had kissed him back.

  What would he say when we rode out this morning? I didn’t think he would simply apologize and ask me to forget it. He thought he had violated Papa’s trust by kissing me. I took a deep shuddering breath as I realized what he probably would do.

  He would ask me to marry him. For him it would be the honorable thing to do. The question for me was: how would I answer? Could I give up my life in France with Papa for a man I had known for only two months? Could I live in this suffocating society and be happy?

  I thought again of last night’s kiss and my heart knew I would respond like that only to Leo.

  I flipped over on my back and stared at the ceiling. The bedroom windows were open and I could hear the sound of the breeze blowing through the tree outside my window. From somewhere close by a nightingale called.

  I wouldn’t mind living here at Camden Hall. It was a beautiful place and I had grown comfortable with this new family. My thoughts turned again to Leo and I began to enumerate what I knew about him.

  He was a good man. That was the first thing that came into my mind. Leo was a good man. He was kind and generous. I knew he found Aunt Augusta trying, but he always treated her with respect. He had let Roger stay at Camden Hall even though he didn’t like him. He had welcomed my mother and her husband and Susan and Aunt Jane into his house. He had offered Susan the use of his London house as soon as he heard of Aunt Jane’s financial situation. He was the head of his family and he took his responsibility seriously. He had even given money to that batard Roger before he banished him.

  He was a good steward of his inheritance. I had seen for myself how well his tenants lived and how easy they seemed to feel in his company. If the French arist
ocrats had behaved like Leo there would have been no need of a revolution.

  He had always been kind to me. He had understood how alien Camden must seem to me, and he had done his best to make me comfortable and less lonely. He was a good man.

  I drifted to sleep in the midst of these thoughts and awoke a few hours later. It was early morning; Mary Ann had not yet been in to start my fire. I dressed in my riding clothes and crept through the sleeping house to a window in the old house that was at ground level. I knew the latch was broken and it was easy to open the window and climb out onto the turf. Hobbs wouldn’t be opening the back door for another hour. I had used the window occasionally in the past when I couldn’t sleep and wanted to be with Alonzo.

  It was a chilly morning and I was happy to let myself into the warmth of the stable. It was still too early for the horses to be fed, and they were all sleeping or resting quietly, confident their hay and grain would soon arrive. I walked down the aisle to Alonzo’s stall and looked in. He was stretched out on his side, his legs sticking straight out, and he was snoring. I thought, as I had often thought before, that my horse had the best temperament of any horse in the world.

  I called his name softly and he stirred. He saw me, heaved himself to his feet and came to the front of the stall to greet me. I had brought some carrots and he was pleased to eat them. When he had finished, I went into the stall and used the brush I had brought to groom him. I knew all of his itchy spots and he enjoyed the attention very much. When I finished I curled up in the corner, my back to the stall wall, my knees pulled up to my chest. Alonzo began to pick through the straw bedding, looking for pieces of last night’s hay he might have missed.

  Wherever we had been, the corner of Alonzo’s stall had always been my refuge. When I was worried, or angry, or unhappy, I would retreat to that corner, watch my beloved horse do what he was doing just now, and feel peace and courage steal back into my heart.

  Alonzo was happy here and that was important to me. He liked Stoddard—who also knew his itchy spots—and he liked the big grassy turnout pen he had to himself. He liked Gypsy. In fact, I was beginning to think he liked Gypsy too much. Although a foal with Gypsy’s fineness and Alonzo’s conformation…how beautiful would that be!

  I heard voices at the door and stood up slowly. The horses had heard the voices too and they were all at the front of their stalls, nickering. They knew breakfast was coming.

  I gave Alonzo a kiss on his soft muzzle, brushed myself off and slipped back into the aisle. I still had no idea of what I was going to say to Leo.

  *

  Leo arrived half an hour later and Matthew, one of the younger grooms, saddled Silver Boy for him while Stoddard himself saddled Alonzo. Stoddard had fallen in love with Alonzo. The first time he had seen Alonzo work he had greeted me with tears in his eyes. He was a man who knew and loved horses and he treated Alonzo as if he were a prince. Which he was.

  The morning chill was fading from the air as Leo and I rode out of the stableyard. As we approached the bridle path, I thought back to the first ride we had taken together. I had been on Alonzo and he on Silver Boy, and we had hardly known each other.

  We didn’t speak as we cantered side by side along the path that would take us to the spot by the river where we liked to stop. The sun’s morning rays were strong enough now to reflect off the surface of the swiftly moving river, and we left the horses to graze while we took our usual spot on the sandy ground near the river’s edge.

  I sat and Leo lowered himself to sit beside me. The ground was a little damp and he asked, “Is it dry enough for you?”

  “It’s fine.”

  He was looking at me, but I kept my eyes on the river. I had the strange quivery feeling in my woman’s parts I had felt last night and it made me nervous.

  I heard him let out a long breath, then he said in a deeper voice than usual, “You must believe me when I tell you this, Isabel. The only reason I insisted that you come to Camden Hall was for the sake of your mother. I knew you were unhappy here, and I tried to spend time with you because I was the cause of your unhappiness. But the better I knew you, the more I liked you, and…well, I’m afraid I have ended by falling in love with you, sweetheart. Do you think you could try to love me back? I very much want to marry you, you see.”

  I took a quick look at him, then looked away again. The morning sun was shining on his hair and the eyes looking at me were bluer than the sky. He was perfectly still, making no motion to approach me. There was such beautiful serenity about Leo, I thought. It was one of the things that had first drawn me to him.

  I thought about last night again and swallowed hard. “Leo, I love you too, but I don’t know if I can marry you. I don’t know if I can leave Papa.”

  “Isabel,” he began.

  I shook my head, fixed my eyes on the rushing water of the little river, and continued bravely, “I don’t know if I can marry a man who will always be comparing me to the wife he lost.”

  He didn’t answer, and when I gathered the nerve to turn my head, he was looking grim. “Who suggested such a thing to you?”

  I ignored his question and posed one of my own. “Is it true? Are you still in love with your wife? I need to know the truth, Leo. If I am to give up the only life I have ever known, I need to know the truth.”

  “The truth.” His voice was grim. “I have never told anyone the truth.”

  All of that perfect serenity was gone; I had killed it with my words about his wife. But I wouldn’t give up. “I need you to tell me, Leo. If I decide to be your wife, I need to know.”

  He got to his feet, went to the edge of the river and stared into the rushing water. I watched his rigid back and said nothing.

  Finally he turned to face me. “All right, I’ll tell you. But it’s not a pretty story, Isabel.”

  I held his eyes, which had turned so dark they looked almost black, and nodded encouragement.

  He remained standing by the river, maintaining the distance between us. “I was twenty years old when I married Lady Catherine Lambert. She was eighteen, the only daughter of a wealthy viscount and she had a dowry my father was anxious to acquire. Her father owned a large piece of property in Kent, adjacent to a property owned by my family. The viscount’s property would more than double our property’s size, and my father had plans to build a splendid new house there. The Kent location would be much closer to London and my father was active in Parliament.”

  He paused. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were almost black. “I had no say in the matter. I was my father’s heir and I was expected to agree to his choice of a suitable wife. And when I met Catherine I was dazzled. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She had thick black hair and long curling eyelashes. Her eyes were green and her mouth was pink. I thought I was the luckiest man in the world and couldn’t wait for the wedding day.”

  He paused again. “I found out on my wedding night that she wasn’t a virgin. In fact, just a month after our marriage she told me she was pregnant with another man’s child. ‘We will just pretend that it’s yours,’ she said. ‘We can say it came early. No one need know but the two of us.’”

  I was stunned. This was something I had never expected. Then I was furious. How dare she do such a thing to Leo? It was a terrible trick to play on any man, but to Leo—whose son would be the next earl—it would be a devastating blow. How dare she do that to him?

  “Le Putain! I said furiously. “Why did you not denounce her and put her away?”

  A smile flickered when I called her a whore. He walked slowly up the rocky edge of the river and lowered himself to sit beside me. “I didn’t do anything because I was very young and very humiliated. I did consider telling my father, but he was so full of plans for the new house, he had already started to build on the property that had come to him as part of Catherine’s dowry.” He shook his head slowly. “I just couldn’t.”

  “Did she tell you who the father was?”

  “She didn’t k
now,” he said and the bitterness in his voice made me wince. “She said it quite calmly, as if it were a triviality. She had been with four or five men and she didn’t know which one was the father.”

  “Oh Leo.” I reached out and took his hand. My heart was breaking for him. For something like this to happen to Leo! One of the best and kindest men who walked the earth! It was abominable. It was unspeakable. I held his hand against my cheek and said, “I hope she is burning in hell this, this catin, that you were forced to marry.”

  I felt his hand tense under my cheek. “There is something else I have to tell you, Isabel. Something about me that I still find hard to live with.”

  I moved his hand to my mouth, kissed it, and looked back at him. His expression was bleak. “When she—Catherine—began to have the baby, and the doctor came to tell me it was going to be a difficult delivery, that the baby wasn’t positioned right, a terrible hope leaped inside me.” I saw a muscle along his jaw twitch. “I hoped that she would die, Isabel. And when she did…when she did…I was glad.”

  He pulled his hand away from me. “I was glad. And when her baby died as well, I was glad about that too. I hated her, Isabel. I hated her so much that it had begun to corrode my soul. I swore that day that I would never marry again; I would never give another woman the chance to hurt me the way Catherine had.” He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was quieter. “And then I met you.”

  Two emotions were fighting for control inside me. One was fury at the way he had been treated, and one was a need to help him, to reassure him he was not a bad person for having those feelings, that he was in fact the best man in the whole world. I leaned forward until I could slip my arms around him. I rested my head on his shoulder and said, “Most men in your position would have killed that woman. And she would have deserved it. You didn’t ill wish her to her death, Leo. Her sin caught up with her. And le pauvre bebe is home with God.”

  His arms held me so tightly that I could scarcely breathe, but I didn’t protest. The thought of Leo carrying this terrible burden of betrayal and guilt broke my heart. Leo! The golden boy. The sun child whose world always went his way. And all this time he had been hiding the pain of betrayal and guilt.