THE HEIRESS
EPISODE 26
The next morning, Isabelle obediently joined
the rest of the debutantes in the queen’s
reading room. She selected a book of silly
love poems to bring with her from the solar,
but she had no intention of reading it.
Instead,
her eyes roved around the room, attempting to
determine who else would benefit from the
new inheritance law.
Most of the other debutantes had brothers,
which precluded them from ever inheriting their
lands or titles .
Cora was the eldest in her
family, but she had two younger brothers.
Henrietta Barclay had an older brother whose
wife had given birth to a son, already securing
the line of the Dukes of Richmond.
Isabelle’s eyes stopped, however, when they
landed on Violet, seated between Cora and
Henrietta, the three of them chatting amiably.
Violet had no siblings and no cousins.
As far
as Isabelle knew, the only blood relations on
her father’s side were aunts, meaning there
were no direct male heirs in her family either…
Isabelle’s feet moved of their own accord,
crossing the room to stand before the trio of
debutantes. Henrietta looked up at Isabelle
with a scowl, while Cora ignored her outright.
Violet’s brow furrowed at the look on Isabelle’s
face.
“I must speak with you, Violet. It’s urgent,”
Isabelle said, ignoring the others.
“Goodness me, is the sky falling?” Henrietta
quipped. “There’s no need to be so brusque,
but then they wouldn’t have taught you any
manners way up north, would th-”
“Excuse me,” Violet said, rising and cutting
Henrietta off. Cora watched the pair of them
with narrowed eyes as Isabelle led Violet to a
corner.
“You probably haven’t heard yet, but the king is
signing a new inheritance law,” Isabelle started,
her voice ba-rely above a whisper. Violet’s brow
remained furrowed.
“It would mean that women can inherit the
lands and titles of their father provided there
are no direct male heirs,” Isabelle said,
watching her friend expectantly.
But rather than
comprehension dawning on Violet’s face, her
frown de-eperened.
“My father would never pa-ss his lands and
titles to me,” she said. “What a ridiculous law,
no woman is fit for such a task!”
Isabelle blinked. Then blinked again.
“Vi, it would mean that all your lands would be
yours, not your future husband’s. You wouldn’t
need to marry-” Isabelle started, changing tack
as she took her friend’s hands. Violet pulled
away, her frown slowly turning to anger.
“Is this some sort of joke?” Violet demanded.
“Of course not, I’m only trying to-” Isabelle
started.
“Cora warned me that you’d try to convince me
to leave Byron,” Violet said, hurt lur-k-ing behind
the anger in her brown eyes. Isabelle cursed
Cora so violently in her head that it was a
wonder she didn’t speak it aloud.
“I’m not trying to convince you to leave
anyone!” Isabelle protested. “I’m trying to tell
you that you don’t need to marry anyone if you
want to remain in charge of your father’s
estate!”
“Byron will run my father’s estate far better
than anyone else could!” Violet fired back. “And
I want to marry him. He loves me!”
“Vi…” Isabelle said, her heart breaking. She
was too late. She’d gotten so caught up in her
own affairs that she’d allowed her friend to be
duped by an unscrupulous shipping heir.
The
Fletchers did not have lands, but they had
wealth. Violet’s father’s lands would give Byron
both the title of Lord and a sizeable seaside
estate that any shipping magnate would kill
for.
Or marry for, as was the case with Violet.
“Just because you’ve been loved and cherished
your whole life doesn’t mean we all have!
You’ve had Leopold since we were girls and
you’ve never let us forget it!” Violet continued.
“How selfish and petty must you be to try to
take that same happiness away from me? I
love Byron and I’m going to marry him. If you
are at all my friend, you’ll support me rather
than try to drag me away from him.”
“Please, Violet.
Promise me that you’ll at least
speak to your father about the new law,”
Isabelle said, studying her friend’s face. But
Violet’s expression was unyielding. Isabelle
had crossed a line that she hadn’t even known
was there, but now it was clear that Violet’s
heart was set on Byron Fletcher. No amount of
persuasion and no change to an inheritance
law would alter that.
“I will speak to my father about marrying Byron
Fletcher, not about some ridiculous law,” Violet
said, taking a step back towards Cora and
Henrietta.
“I have no interest in lands and
titles, I’d rather be married to the man I love.”
Isabelle watched her go, wondering if their
friendship would ever recover from this.
She returned to her seat, fli-pping open the
book of love poems with a sick feeling roiling
inside her. Violet was so blinded by her
infatuation with Byron that she couldn’t see
what was happening.
Or perhaps she didn’t
want to. The realization that her friend valued a
man’s love over lands and titles whallopped
Isabelle in the stomach. This was probably the
exact argument any opposition in the king’s
council had made against the new law. They’d
scoff and say that women were dainty,
brainless things that cared more about dresses
and love poems than lands and power.
This was the reason the law did not mandate
that an heiress would automatically inherit her
father’s lands and title, but rather that the father
would decide. Maybe Violet hadn’t dared to
allow herself to consider Isabelle’s words
because of her tenuous relationship with her
own father. Isabelle desperately attempted to
rea-ssure herself that that was the case, but a
terrible dread that Violet really wanted nothing
more than to be loved argued the contrary.
Byron had noticed and exploited that desire,
and now there seemed to be nothing Isabelle
could do to change that.
“Pssst! My lady!”
The voice had Isabelle whirling around. Lissa’s
head was poking out from behind a tapestry,
her worried eyes darting across the room to
where the queen was playing bridge with some
of her ladies.
“Lissa?” Isabelle whispered in disbelief.
“You must come quickly,” Lissa said. Isabelle
didn’t bother with any more questions,
abandoning her book and sidling stealthily
towards the tapestry. She cast her eyes around
the room, but the only person watching her
was Cora.
Flashing her once-friend a decidedly vulgar
gesture, she sli-pped behind the tapestry into
the service corridor behind Lissa.
“What’s happened?” Isabelle asked, as her
maid set off at a frantic pace throu-ghthe
darkened corridor.
“I was instructed to fetch you straightaway,”
she said. “The others mustn’t know you’ve
gone otherwise they might not let you leave.”
“Leave?” Isabelle repeated, her dread mounting
that her father had perhaps changed his mind
and summoned her home.
“Yes, my lady,” Lissa said, pulling open
another service door. They emerged into a
busy hallway filled with servants. When
Isabelle tried to press her maid further, asking
if there had been a letter from Kentshire, her
maid shook her head, nodding towards the
servants bustling around them.
“Too many listening ears,” Lissa whispered.
They hurried throu-ghthe hallway until they
emerged near the debutantes’ wing. Lissa
nearly jogged to Isabelle’s suite door, pausing
to pull it open for her.
Isabelle’s feet froze in place when she took in
the man standing near the fireplace.
Leopold turned to face her, his face melting
into the heart-stopping smile she’d fallen in
love with so long ago.
“Darling,” he said, opening his arms.
Isabelle swallowed.
To be continued…..
THE HEIRESS
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EPISODE 26?️
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“What are you doing here?” Isabelle asked, still
rooted in place in the doorway to her suite.
Leopold’s brows quivered as he dropped his
arms.
“I’ve come to take you home, of course,” he
said. “As I’d promised before I left.”
“Yes, of course,” Isabelle said, distractedly.
Lissa hovered beside her, her excited grin
giving way to confusion when she took in her
mistress’ confusion.
“Shall I fetch some tea?” Lissa asked.
“No, please stay,” Isabelle said too quickly.
Leopold frowned in earnest now, the hackles
rising on Isabelle’s back.
She had to tread carefully. Lissa had snuck her
out of the queen’s reading room with Cora
Neasmith as the only witness. Isabelle knew
Leopold would not be a welcome guest inside
the palace, which meant that he had likely
snuck in as well. Her father had instructed her
to remain at the palace until he said otherwise,
which would become far more difficult if
Leopold intended to smuggle her out with him.
Papa had also said that he didn’t want Isabelle
anywhere near Leopold when he learned of the
new law…
“How was your journey?” Isabelle asked,
forcing the worry from her face. She tried an
easy smile, but was fairly certain it came
across as a grimace when the frown didn’t
leave Leopold’s face.
“Swift,” he replied, watching her. “Is something
the matter, darling?”
Isabelle found that her feet wouldn’t bring her
any closer to him, instead skirting the room to
stand behind her love seat. She rested her
hands on the piece of furniture, her mind
racing as she tried to puzzle out some way to
send Leopold to her father without her.
“You never wrote to me,” she said finally, the
hurt on her face genuine. Leopold’s jaw
muscle pulsed even as his face softened with
the smile he saved just for her.
“I’m afraid I was far too busy in Ardalone, my
love,” he said, taking a few steps towards her.
Isabelle couldn’t help but take a few steps
back, which earned her another frown.
“You were gone for over a month and you
couldn’t find the time to write me even once?”
Isabelle asked. Frustration flared in his dark
eyes before they softened.
“Darling, I was sent as an emissary of
Germania, not as a prince on holiday,” he said,
coming around the love seat.
“Not even one letter,” Isabelle repeated.
Leopold sighed.
“Must we really fight?” he asked. “I’ll admit I
was hoping for a more enthusiastic greeting
than this.”
“And I was hoping for some sort of
rea-ssurance that you hadn’t forgotten about
me,” Isabelle said, hating that there were tears
rising in her eyes.
Here he was, the man she’d pined over and
missed for months, but rather than throw
herself into his arms, she was keeping him at
an arm’s length. Rather than be awash with
happiness, her skin was prickling with
apprehension. She wanted him out of her suite.
She wanted him away from her. He didn’t
seem to be listening to a word she was
saying, approaching her slowly as one would a
terrified animal.
“I made you a promise,” he said, his eyes
flic-king down to her ring. “Of course I hadn’t
forgotten about you.”
“And yet you couldn’t find a spare minute to
write to me and say so,” Isabelle continued.
The frustration flared in Leopold’s eyes again
as he ran a hand throu-ghhis hair.
“Had you ever considered how it looked,
Isabelle?” he demanded. “I was nearly overrun
with your letters, each one more desperate
than the last. Each one talking more about
Prince Graham than about us. Why would I
ever reply to such nonsense?”
“To rea-ssure me! To…” Isabelle snapped,
trailing off. The look the foreign prince levelled
at her silenced her.
“The diamond on your finger should be
rea-ssurance enough,” he said, his voice
dangerously quiet. The grandfather clock ticked
away the seconds of silence that stretched
between them before Leopold turned away
from her.
“Have your maid pack your things. It’s high
time you left this infernal palace,” he said,
scowling as he looked over the room. “I do
not like what Highcastle has done to you and I
will not allow it to continue.”
Isabelle’s heart was hammering in her che-st as
she looked over at Lissa. Her maid’s eyes
were wide as she looked to Isabelle for
instructions. Realizing that she hadn’t shared
the contents of her father’s letter with her maid
before she’d burned it, Isabelle un-derstood why
Lissa had been so excited and secretive.
Lissa had a-ssumed that Isabelle would want to
leave with Leopold. She’d a-ssumed that
nothing had changed and that Isabelle was still
just as eager to leave as she had been since
they’d arrived. Lissa had thought she’d done
Isabelle a favour by sneaking her out of the
queen’s reading room so she could run away
with her betrothed.
Instead, she’d mired her mistress in the
stickiest of situations.
As the pair of them exchanged looks, Leopold
rounded on them impatiently, glaring at each of
them in turn. When Isabelle still didn’t speak,
he snapped his fingers at Lissa.
“What, are you daft? Get on with it! Go and
pack her things!” he barked. Lissa jumped at
his voice, glancing over at him before looking
back at Isabelle.
“What would my lady have me do?” she asked,
her voice ba-rely above a squeak. The terror in
Lissa’s face as Leopold took two menacing
steps towards the maid steeled Isabelle’s
resolve.
“Leo,” Isabelle said, halting him in his tracks.
“There is something you should discuss with
my father. There’s been some news…”
He turned to her, not bothering to hide the
anger simmering behind his eyes.
“What news?” Leopold demanded, once again
his voice terrifyingly quiet. Now that he was
distracted, Lissa backed slowly towards the
call bell. Inhaling to steel herself, Isabelle
faced her betrothed.
“There’s been a new law-” she started, but he
advanced upon her so quickly that she backed
away, terrified.
“I don’t care about Pretanian law!” Leopold
thun-dered, still advancing on her. “Now pack
your things because we are leaving!”
Isabelle kept backing away until she was
pressed up against the wall, her heart roaring
in her ears. Across the room, Lissa was
tugging frantically on the call bell, watching
Leopold advance on Isabelle with terrified
eyes.
“I cannot,” Isabelle said, tearing her eyes away
from her maid to focus on the furious man
approaching her.
“Damn it Isabelle! You are my betrothed and
you will obey me!” Leopold exploded. Isabelle
screamed as one of his hands curled into a
fist, slamming into the wall beside her head. It
quivered there as he leaned over her, his
cologne filling her nostrils and summoning
confounding thoughts of Graham as she
trembled before him.
This was wrong, all wrong.
Leopold studied her terrified face, his temper
returning to a simmer as he pushed away from
the wall, running a hand throu-ghhis hair again.
Lissa still hadn’t released the call bell, pulling
it so ha-rd she risked tearing it out of the wall.
“You cannot expect me to be pleased when my
bride-to-be is behaving like a spoiled toddler,”
Leopold said, as much to himself as to
Isabelle. “I will ask you once again, have your
maid pack your things.”
“I will not leave until you speak to my father,”
Isabelle said, her back still pressed up against
the wall. She could ba-rely hear above the
blood roaring in her ears as he turned towards
her, his fingers curling once again.
“What did you just say?” he demanded, his
voice so quiet that Isabelle’s breath caught in
her throat.
“You must speak with my father,” she repeated,
her voice shaking even though she wished it
weren’t. She wished that she could melt into
the wall, the wrath plain on Leopold’s face now
as mirthless laughter erupted from his li-ps.
“I see,” he said bitterly. “Talk to your father?
Yes, I think that is exactly what I will do, as
you have clearly lost your mind. But you are
mine and I am not leaving here without you
you.”
“No,” Isabelle said, more firmly this time. The
change in Leopold’s face was instantaneous, a
monster roaring to life behind his brown eyes.
He was upon her again in three quick steps,
Isabelle’s scream bursting free as he seized
her by the shoulders. Lissa was shouting,
running across the room towards them.
“How dare you defy me?” Leopold roared,
shaking Isabelle so violently she slammed
backwards into the wall. Lissa seized
Leopold’s collar, attempting to pull him off
Isabelle, only for one of Leopold’s hands to
leave Isabelle’s shoulders and backhand Lissa
across the face. Isabelle screamed anew as
Lissa tumbled to the floor.
The suite door burst open as five palace
guards charged in, their swords drawn.
“Release the lady!” the first one shouted, as the
others fanned out to encircle Leopold. The
foreign prince ba-red his teeth, releasing
Isabelle with a shove. She staggered back
against the wall, clutching it to remain upright
so long as Leo was still within an arm’s reach.
But the prince had turned his attention to the
armed men surrounding him, fixing their leader
with a glare as if daring them to come any
closer. Isabelle edged away from him as
quietly as she could.
“I am a prince of Germania. Touch me and
you’ll have to explain yourself to your king and
mine,” Leopold snapped. The first guard held
his sword up, but Leopold’s words had clearly
given him pause. The foreign prince strode up
to him, pausing at the tip of the guard’s sword
before pushing it away in annoyance when the
guard did nothing.
“This is not over, Isabelle,” Leopold said, his
voice ba-rely more than a growl as he fled the
room.
Pressed up against the wall near the her
bedchamber, Isabelle exhaled, her breathing
coming in ragged gasps.
“Are you all right, my lady?” one of the guards
asked finally while one of the others helped
Lissa to her feet. Isabelle couldn’t think
straight to save her life, let alone formulate a
response, the shock and terror wiping her mind
blank as she sagged against the wall.
Lissa rushed to her aid, barking for the guards
to fetch a physician and stop the fleeing
prince. Isabelle’s knees gave out as the
bedchamber door across from her creaked
open.
Two sets of identical, terrified blue eyes
peered out, the twins having overheard the
whole thing.
To be continued…..