Page 76 of My Duke, The Stranger
He wanted to be with Isolde, just as he wanted her to know that he would be by her side no matter what. But would she allow such a thing, if she knew what it would bring them both? Could they ever be happy if something like that hung over their heads from now until forever?
“What will you do?” Mr. Pembroke asked him, his voice low, not daring to put too much emphasis on the question.
Cassian scoffed. “If I knew that, I would not be in here, lamenting.”
“Perhaps I could…” Mr. Pembroke clicked his tongue. “Her ancestry. The one that I concocted. It would not be such a hard thing to forge it, Your Grace. We could make her a noble.”
Cassian perked up for a moment… only to slink back down. “No, I do not think that will work. What is more, I doubt that Isolde would let me. She would think that I am ashamed of her, as she would fear the truth coming out. Which it will. Mr. Harwood is watching, and if he senses wrongdoing, he will pounce.”
They sat in silence for several moments.
Cassian hated feeling this way. He hated that he cared so much. But he resolved that it was a good thing, or that it would be. He would find an answer, he would get past this, and when he did, it would be all the sweeter for it.
“Her lineage is the issue,” Mr. Pembroke spoke finally. “But tell me, Your Grace, what do we really know of it?”
Cassian frowned. “We know enough, Mr. Pembroke. Her father is a vicar. His father before him was also a vicar. As was his father. They have lived on the estate for generations. There is nothing there.”
“But her mother?” he pressed.
“Does it matter?”
“It might,” Mr. Pembroke said, a raised eyebrow, a sense of hope felt in the room that Cassian did not know was possible.
It was a long shot. He knew it would likely lead to nothing. But it was also a plank of wood, tossed to a drowning man, enough for him to cling to in the vain hope it might be his salvation. Truly, it was all he had.
“Look into it,” Cassian said. “But with discretion, Mr. Pembroke. Find out everything you can about Isolde and her family. Leave no stone unturned.”
“It will be done, Your Grace.” He bowed deeply. “And might I ask, what will you do in the meantime?”
That was another problem without an easy answer.
Cassian wanted nothing more than to go to Isolde and tell her that he knew Mr. Harwood had lied, just as he wanted to tell her that he would be with her no matter what. But he worried too that the day would come where awkward questions would be asked, answered, and that they would lead down a path that neither wanted but could not avoid.
In truth, he was afraid of hurting not just himself, but his wife. He had opened his heart, he had accepted his feelings, and they threatened to be the end of him. It was so bitter, so ironic, that Cassian might have laughed, had he not wanted to weep.
“I will…” He sighed and bowed his head. “I will have to avoid Isolde, for now. Just until I know what we can do.”
“She will not like that, Your Grace,” he said.
“Nor will I,” Cassian said. And that was the hardest truth of all.
Thirty-One
“There is no need for all this fussing,” Isolde’s father complained as Isolde adjusted the pillow beneath his head. “Truly, you have better things to do.”
She scoffed. “Better than looking after my ailing father? I would hope not.”
“You are married, Isolde,” he complained, even as he settled back onto his pillow with a groan that was filled with pain. “Surely your husband needs you.”
“He will be fine without me,” she said, ignoring the way her stomach twisted and her chest grew tight. “I will be home this evening. A few hours away here and there is not such a long time.”
“You cannot keep coming here,” he said to her, his voice weak. “What if someone sees you?”
“Let them see.”
He frowned at her. “And His Grace? What does he say of this? He of all people knows how important such secrecy is.”
“He does not mind,” she lied. “In fact, he is the one who has encouraged it.”
