The night air was cool as Isabella and Lord Julian strolled through the garden, their footsteps softly crunching on the gravel path. The distant hum of music from the ballroom faded with each step, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of crickets.
It had seemed harmless at first, a casual offer to get some air, to escape the suffocating crowd and the watchful eyes of the nobility. Leofric had been speaking to Lady Harcourt, his mouth close to her ear, and Isabella's heart had burned with a mix of confusion and something darker. That sharp smile on Lady Harcourt's lips had tipped Isabella past her limit.
She glanced around, noticing how the garden seemed to empty as they ventured farther. The once lively paths were now quiet, and a sense of unease began to creep in. She turned to Julian, her voice light but questioning.
"It's getting quite deserted out here," she said, trying to keep her tone casual.
Detecting the fear in her voice, Julian chuckled softly. His eyes were cool as he watched her under the full moon. "That's the charm of the garden at night," he replied. "Peaceful, isn't it?"
Before she could respond, Julian abruptly stopped and reached out to pull aside a curtain of flowering vines, revealing a small, hidden gate.
Startled, Isabella took a step back. "What's this?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Julian's smile tipped further, a playful glint in his eyes. "A secret passage," he said. "I discovered it a couple of months ago when my sister locked me out of the manor after I ruined one of her soirées." His brows drew together absently as the mere remembrance of the incident left a sour taste in his mouth. But that only lasted a few seconds before his eyes regained their usual brightness.
"What's the saying? When one door closes, another opens. Quite literally," he added with a short, reluctant laugh as he pushed the door open.
Isabella's brows drew together. "Your sister?" Her voice held a hint of suspicion and curiosity. She couldn't remember him mentioning anything about being related to Lord and Lady Harcourt. Who was he affiliated with? Or was he a distant cousin to the couple?
"Yes," he replied dismissively. "Lady Harcourt."
At the mention of Lady Harcourt, Isabella's expression hardened. The woman had been dancing with Leofric earlier, and the memory stirred a mix of emotions. She knew it was wrong to extend her anger to an innocent man, but she couldn't help it. His sister had ruined her evening.
Upon seeing her sudden guarded expression, Julian added, "Ah, you seem offended to find out you're out here with the brother of the woman who stole your man away. We are half-siblings. Nothing serious." His voice was cheerful.
Isabella's frown only deepened. "I think we should head back to the ballroom," she said firmly.
Julian raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Are you afraid something might happen?" he teased.
"Something like what?" Isabella asked as she quickly masked every trace of uncertainty in her eyes.
"I don't know." He shrugged carelessly and turned to face her. "I guess I was wrong to think of you as a brave and adventurous woman."
I am a brave and adventurous woman! a little stubborn voice in her head chimed.
Isabella straightened her posture, her chin raised. "I'm not afraid," she declared.
"Then let's explore," he said, finally pushing the gate open.
Isabella hesitated for a moment before stepping through. The passage was narrow and dark, the air cool and damp. Julian produced a small lighter from his pocket, casting flickering light on the stone walls.
"You've taken other women here before?" she suddenly asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it.
Julian glanced at her, amused. "If I had, I wouldn't be this excited now."
Isabella couldn't tell if the young man was telling the truth, and she didn't really care. She had just asked to break the silence. She decided to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the journey.
They walked in silence, the only sounds being their footsteps and the occasional creak of old floorboards. The corridor led them deeper into the manor, and Isabella couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in her chest.
Leofric won't like this. Turn back around, a little voice warned in the dark hallway.
Since when did we start caring about what the man liked or disliked? another voice roared. Besides, he is probably too busy with his companion to notice my absence in the ballroom.
Anger, bitterness, hurt, and probably jealousy too, bubbled in her chest as she continued walking.
After what felt like an eternity, they emerged into a dimly lit hallway. The place was eerily quiet, like abandoned quarters. She couldn't ignore the feeling of unease this time.
"I've had enough adventure for one night," Isabella said, her voice steady. "I'd like to return to my husband."
Julian nodded, gesturing for her to follow. "Of course," he said.
As they walked, Isabella's thoughts drifted back to Leofric. Was he looking for her by now, with a murderous look? Or was he still being entertained by other women? The thought made her chest tighten.
Suddenly, Julian pushed open a door and gently guided her inside before she could protest. The room was small, with a simple bed, a chair, and a single candle flickering on a table.
"This isn't the way back," Isabella stated, confusion and alarm evident in her voice.
Julian closed the door behind them, his smile taking on a different edge. "No, it's not," he said.
"Why rush?" he murmured, but she heard him. Julian turned to her, a sly smile playing on his lips. "I thought we could have a moment alone," he said, stepping closer.
She moved to leave, but he blocked her path. "I wonder," he said, his voice low, "if you taste as beautiful as you look."
Isabella's eyes widened in shock. "Let me pass," she demanded, trying to sidestep him—but it was a futile attempt.
She was officially in danger.
He closed the space between them. "I've watched you, Isabella. Do you know what I see? A woman wasting away beside a man who doesn't deserve her. A woman who wants to be wanted."
"Don't," she whispered, her body tense.
Julian laughed—a cold sound, unlike the ones she was used to. "Your sweet-as-honey husband is probably still with Lady Harcourt right now," he sneered, full of bitterness. "I don't have to tell you what you already know," he said calmly as he turned and bolted the door.
"What are you talking about?" Isabella asked, her heart constricting in her chest.
"Your husband isn't a saint. I'm sure he's got some cockroaches in his cupboard," he said with a half-laugh, easing the cravat off his neck.
"He is not like that," she defended Leofric.
"Don't be so naïve. Your husband is probably shagging my sister in an empty room right now. So what's stopping you from doing the same? I know you want to."
Fury surged through Isabella, and without thinking, she slapped him across the face.
"How dare you think so little of me?"
Julian staggered back, his hand touching his cheek in shocked surprise. "No woman has ever struck me before," he said, his voice filled with disbelief.
Meanwhile, in the garden, Leofric paced restlessly. The unease that had been gnawing at him intensified with each passing moment. Isabella's absence, coupled with Julian's, unsettled him.
Isabella wouldn't do anything stupid, he told himself. Julian wouldn't be stupid enough to mess with my wife—or so he thought. His eyes scanned the garden one more time, hoping to see Isabella and Lord Julian, but they were nowhere in sight.
He wanted to head back to the ballroom, but his feet took him in the opposite direction as he ventured deeper into the garden, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
A glint of metal caught his attention—a doorknob partially hidden by flowers. Curious, he approached and pushed the door open, revealing a narrow passage. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, the darkness enveloping him.
The passage was dark and narrow, but he pressed on, his footsteps echoing in the silence. A part of him believed Isabella must be around there.
Navigating the corridors, he strained his ears for any sound. A sudden shriek pierced the silence, sending a jolt through him. He recognized the voice instantly. Isabella.
He followed the sound, stopping outside a closed door. Pressing his ear against it, he heard a man's groan and the sound of a struggle.
"Step back!" he shouted, kicking the door open.
Inside, he saw Isabella standing frozen, her eyes wide with shock. Julian was clutching his leg, pain etched on his face.
"Did I interrupt something, my dear wife?" Leofric asked, his voice cold as his eyes darted between Julian and Isabella.
Isabella ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Thank goodness you're here," she whispered.
"Did something happen?" he asked, his eyes narrowing into slits as he looked at Julian.
Isabella shook her head, her face buried in his chest. "He did something," Leofric stated, his voice hard.
"He's drunk," she murmured. "Let's just leave."
Leofric nodded, guiding her out of the room. In the hallway, he muttered, "Who says you can't teach a drunk man how to behave?" before storming back into the room.
Before she could respond, he turned and re-entered. Moments later, the sound of a struggle erupted, followed by Julian's pained cries.
Isabella panicked—Leofric wasn't just a great swordsman; he was equally great with his fists, making Julian no match for him.
Unable to take it anymore, she rushed back in, finding Leofric delivering a series of punches to Julian's face. Oh, what a pity—the lad had quite a pretty face.
"Stop!" she pleaded, but her words fell on deaf ears. "Leofric, you're going to kill him!" she cried out, grabbing his coat.
Leofric didn't respond, his fists continuing to strike. Desperate, Isabella grabbed his arm, but that was a mistake because he shoved her aside, not too hard, but hard enough to send her to the floor. Her elbow scraped the edge of the small table as she fell. Pain bloomed, but it was nothing compared to the sting in her chest.
Leofric's fists paused midair. He looked at the way she pressed her lips together to hide the tremble.
She did her best to hide her whimper as she stood. "If you're done proving you're stronger than a drunk fool, perhaps we can leave now."
She walked out of the room, discreetly rubbing her sore backside while ignoring the pain in her hand. A few seconds later, she heard footsteps behind her.
"I'm sorry," Leofric said from behind. "I didn't mean for that to happen."
She didn't respond as they walked in silence back to the ballroom. Their dishevelled appearance and Leofric's bloody hands drew stares from the guests.
Lady Harcourt approached, her eyes wide with shock. Before she could speak, Isabella addressed her. "Call the best physician you know and attend to your brother," she said.
Lady Harcourt's eyes flicked to Leofric's hands, but before she could ask questions, Isabella stepped past her, Leofric following closely behind.
What had started as a simple walk had turned into a night of chaos.