An Earl’s Broken Heart by Ella Edon

Chapter Fifteen

Isabel's release made him shiver. It had been so long since Alexander had been in the heat of passion. The pleasure they had shared elevated his mood and made him feel as if he was cared for. He was not as angry as he usually was; he did not feel left out and, most of all, he felt even closer to Isabel. He had often thought that Isabel had broken him in every way possible, even the ability to make love or seek pleasure had vanished from within him. But somehow, with Isabel, that fire found a way to light up and he did not understand why. He was not supposed to feel this way towards her. Not after everything that he had been through for her sake. He really wished that his body did not choose to react to her. He tried not to let himself be seduced by her, but he was unable to control himself.

Alexander suddenly became angry again. The last time he had given all of himself to her, she had hurt him. He did not doubt that Isabel could hurt him again. He was afraid that letting himself crave her again will pull him back into loving her and he was afraid of that.

"Alexander,” she called, a small smile on her face. Alexander jerked away from her; his brows creased. Her voice was soothing but at the same time, hurting. He moved away from her.

"Stay away from me," he said through gritted teeth. Something surged through his body and his hands began to shake. His heart thudded and he did not feel comfortable anymore. It was as though the room had suddenly become small and he wanted to make an escape. He was breathing fast in ragged gasps, and he could not make them slow.

"Alexander... what is wrong?" Isabel asked, sitting up.

Alexander could not bring himself to respond to her. He opened his mouth; once, twice. Nothing came out. In silence, he turned and walked out of the drawing room in a hurry. He heard her call his name, but he kept walking. The house he had once thought to be enormous suddenly seemed too small. He began to sweat profusely and what he wanted to do was make an escape. He made his way towards the double twin doors that were the house entrance. The footman by the door stood at alert and seemed to be coming near him, but Alexander said quickly, "Get me a horse."

The footman opened the door and fled while Alexander walked out of the house. He did not know what was wrong with him or how to deal with it. All he knew was that he wanted to be as far away from Isabel as possible.

The footman brought him a horse soon enough. Alexander mounted the horse, steadied his foot, held on to the horse’s reins, and then made his way out of the manor.

* * *

The only other place he could go to at that time was Michael's, so he did.

The trip to Michael’s home was a short one but it passed in what seemed mere moments for Alexander’s mind was in a state of frenzy.

As he stepped past the gate to Michael’s house, he called out to him.

“Michael… Michael… Michael.”

He hadn’t expected his voice to arrive at such volume, but he was brimming with panic he could scarcely contain.

Michael arrived at last, filling the doorway with a puzzled look on his face.

“Alexander, what has brought you here at this hour with such a mood?” Michael asked curiously.

"I need a drink.” Alexander breathed out, his head bowed.

Michael asked no further questions, but Alexander heard him ordering that a drink be brought. Michael was a man of uncommonly temperate demeanor. Even when there was danger or anxiety a foot, he always kept his learned calm. This walk was no different. As Alexander made his way into Michael’s quaint living room and took his seat, Michael waited patiently.

Soon enough, he was served with a drink which he downed at a go. After that, he felt a bit more relaxed and rested against the arm rest of the cushion. Michael stared at him for a while, speechless. But Alexander could tell that he wanted to question him as to what was going on.

The drink started to do its work and Alexander asked for another. What his mind needed most at that moment seemed an escape from sobriety, a place to hide from his thoughts.

Michael retrieved a glass decanter with two ornate glasses and poured another small measure of brandy for Alexander and himself.

“That’s the last one until you tell me what is going on, Alexander,” Michael said.

Alexander buried his face in his hands. “We made love, Michael.”

Michael snorted. “A not uncommon occurrence between man and wife, dear friend.”

“No, you don’t understand. I can’t…”

He gave up. It was futile. There was no way for him to explain why he could not fall into Isabel’s trap again and allow himself to be hurt a second time.

All he wanted was a place to stay for some time before he could determine how he could live far away from Isabel. Living in the same house as her would only put him in danger of losing himself entirely. She had seduced him, and he could guarantee that she would do that more times than none, she had it in her effortless power

But she was not all to blame for what had happened. In spite of the fact that he had made an effort to set boundaries between them, he had still given into kissing her. It was so hard to resist her charms when the years of his younger love always came to his mind.

"I shall need a bedchamber to have some rest, Michael," he said, rubbing his temple. He knew that his appearance was uncalled for, but he truly had nowhere else to go and he expressed this to Michael. "Forgive my intrusion…"

"You need not apologize for that. I am always here for you, Alexander," said Michael.

Alexander nodded once. "Thank you."

"I shall show you to your bedchamber, but in the meantime, shall I send a message to your wife informing her?”

Alexander panicked and blurted. "No!"

Michael raised a brow. Alexander shook his head. "There shall be no need to worry her."

"As you wish," Michael said. "Come then, you shall be shown to a chamber where you may have your rest."

Alexander was thankful for Michael's lack of questions. Alexander and Michael had met years ago during one of his brief visits back at Richmond. He had been newly appointed as the solicitor of Carter Manor upon his graduation from Oxford. They had begun talking then and became friends. From time to time, they wrote to each other, and this strengthened their friendship, and it was apparent that he understood that Alexander was not in a comfortable place to explain what the problem was.

Once he was directed to a bed chamber, Alexander thanked Michael and prepared himself for sleep. He had high hopes that sleeping away from Isabel would guarantee that he had a goodnight rest, but it was all a lie. Despite his distance from Isabel, he still had a dream about their past that night and it was the most painful aspect of all, the part that had broken him and left him a shadow of himself.

On the night Alexander made his escape from Carter Manor, his Great Uncle had been away on a business trip, and he knew it was the right time to flee. He had carefully written and placed a letter for his Great Uncle in his study. The letter expressed that he was only following his heart so he and Isabel could live happily forever. He had gathered all of his savings and a few items of clothing in a bag. He knew that life out there would be hard on him, but Isabel was the love of his life, and he could persevere with her by his side. He set out that day to the spot where they had planned to meet, behind the first tree that was situated near the outskirts of Richmond. Their journey from there would be easier because hiring a hackney would not be so difficult.

Alexander had begun to envision what their wedding would be like. It would be simple, and they would have no witnesses but themselves. After that, they would retire to an inn and keep the flames ablaze through the night by making passionate love. As these thoughts sunk deeper and deeper into Alexander's mind, he found himself anticipating her arrival.

Not certain of how long he had been waiting for, Alexander soon began to feel scared. He wondered if Isabel's father had held her off. But he shook his head from that thought. Isabel had assured him that her father had left England for Paris, he would not be a problem. And her sister was in support of her finding her happiness. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

After waiting for a long time, Alexander finally heard the heels of a horse approaching from a distance. He was thrilled. He stepped out and looked towards the direction it was coming from, and saw a man mounted on the horse, halting when he saw him. He frowned.

The man alighted the horse and looked around suspiciously before heading towards Alexander.

"Alexander Steward?" he asked.

It took Alexander a while, but he recognized the man. He had seen him a few times at the stable in Lichfield Manor. Isabel often smiled at him kindly.

"Yes? It is I," said Alexander, stepping forward.

"Miss Garrett has asked that I be careful whilst coming here," he said, slipping out a letter and handing it to him. "Here."

"Is Miss Garrett in any form of trouble?" Alexander asked, his heart skipping. It was odd that on the day they were to elope, Isabel was sending him a letter. This was not good at all.

"She is well. She has only asked that I hand this to you and, in her words, that I tell you how truly sorry she is."

Those words were what made Alexander's hope die out. Something was definitely wrong. Isabel was supposed to be here, not sending him a damned letter.

His teeth were clenched, and his eyes began to blink uncontrollably. Nothing was making sense. He held on to the letter. It would explain it all.

"Do you perhaps have a message for the Miss?" asked the stableman.

Alexander stared down at the letter in his hand, before staring back up at the stableman. He shook his head gently. "No."

He did not wish to read the letter before the man, for he feared that whatever was its content would not be so good. He already had an odd feeling coursing through him. He blew out a breath and nodded once at the man. "Thank you."

The man nodded, rushed back to his horse, and left. Once he was alone, Alexander opened the letter quickly and began to read through. His eyes widened with each line, and his chest felt as if it were not his own, as though he were intruding in the space of another. The discomfort he felt was massive and all he wanted to do was be away from the world. That day, Alexander lost himself. He lost himself in the words of that letter. And the reason why he kept it was because he hoped that he would find himself again through that letter. But he never did.

When Alexander awoke the next morning, he refused to move from that bed, from that room. He refused to face the reality that he was lost forever and there was no saving for him.