An Earl’s Broken Heart by Ella Edon
Chapter Five
Alexander felt as though the air had been sucked out of him. He had never anticipated seeing her ever again. A swell of emotion that he had thought long buried rose sharply to the surface, and he suddenly feared he would lose his footing. He was so desperately unprepared for this encounter on account of never having thought it was possible. Isabel was a noblewoman who had once been the crown jewel of the Ton; he had expected she would have been somewhere mothering a flock of children in some massive house. And yet here she was. He struggled to pick one emotion from another. There was shock, there was fear, there was anger but even amidst all that there was something else that he could not quite put his finger on, a fluttering in his stomach and heaviness in his eyelids.
She had aged like a fine French wine; matured and ripened. Her face and figure, her presence, filled the room like a light that dimmed those around her. He did not expect that seeing her again would take his breath away. Her blonde hair was packed in a bun. The light blue dress she had on complimented her bright skin, and her fingers were ever slender and beautiful. He imagined her playing the pianoforte like she used to. Did she still play? And her hair, he wondered if it was longer now or if it still stopped on her shoulders. And her laughter, had it changed? Would she still laugh so loudly as she used to when he surprised her? He was also curious to know if her lovely scent was the same. There was so much that went on in his head in those few seconds, just before Lord Greyweather called his attention and made the introduction.
He was introduced to the married couple with her but couldn’t retain purchase on their names. His mind was so utterly befuddled by the sight of Isabel. All the same, he greeted the couple with perfect politeness, and Lord Greyweather remarked upon Alexander having served his country. That was enough to snap Alexander out of his daze and remind him what he was there for, his duty. It also reminded him of what he should be feeling towards Isabel and that was anger, not nostalgia. He was certain she did not think the same things that he did. Her last letter to him already explained that she could not care less about him, so why should he now? There was a time he had believed they could have been joined in union, irrespective of the difference in stations. Isabel had proved that to be a childish fancy. As far as the Ton was concerned, Isabel was the finest fruit on the tree and Alexander was the mud beneath the roots.
Alexander determined to look away from Isabel. He was a Lord now and he had to act the part, he could not let his emotions overwhelm him in her presence. He was for all intents and purposes an equal to these people and Isabel now, especially.
"Congratulations on your appointment as the Earl of Carter." Said the gentleman excitedly. "How have you found London since your return?"
"It has been thrilling," he lied.
He presumed the Lady would not wish to hear of his true feelings. Nothing about returning to London had been thrilling so far. And the presence of Isabel at that ball only made matters worse. There must have been something chilling in the tone of his voice for the gentleman’s eyes go wide as he made his apologies and excused himself.
A soft gasp called him out of his reverie. "Pardon my manners, this is Dowager Barnes. Lady Barnes, this is Lord Carter," said Lady Greyweather, her smile unwavering. Alexander had a feeling she always maintained her hostess role with pleasant severity.
Alexander was stunned to hear that Isabel was a Dowager. He wondered how long ago her husband had passed as he stiffly turned to her. "Dowager Barnes." He inclined his head.
She did the same. "Lord Carter. Welcome to London," she said. Her voice was still honey sweet and cajoling. He almost smiled to hear it again.
Alexander wanted to ask her if she meant that. A part of him wished that she did.
"Thank you," he responded in kind.
Alexander made sure not to look at Isabel, now Dowager Barnes, in the eye again. It unraveled him and he disliked it. Lord Greyweather, who was still standing by him, leaned in close to whisper. "Perhaps you are interested in Dowager Barnes? "
Alexander shook his head once, sharply. "Certainly not."
Lord Greyweather persisted. "Viscount Barnes passed more than a year or so ago. I am certain the Viscountess would be ready to wed, she is out of her mourning clothes to be sure."
Alexander's lips parted. That was interesting news. More thoughts flooded him. There was a whole lot he wished to know concerning Isabel. He pondered on how she had been faring in the years passed. He wondered if she had loved her previous husband more than she had loved him. Had she left him waiting at the outskirts Richmond because of this late viscount? He felt his heart breaking over and over again as he stood there, staring at her and questioning himself. Seeing Isabel after such a long time was a reminder of what he was; a commoner adjudged to be wholly unworthy of her love.
* * *
Isabel had played so many scenarios in her mind, imagining when she would encounter Alexander. She was certain that it would be somewhere, at the theatre, at the park, on Bond Street, anywhere but a ball. From what Isabel recalled, Alexander despised these events. They had both made jokes about them countless times; he had called them pretentious and unimaginative, a pastime for those idled by wealth.
Alexander Steward. He was her first and only love. She knew that he had been to war and yet his face bore all the hallmarks of only distinction and presence. The years had treated him with loving kindness. She almost smiled remembering him as he was, but any hope of a smile faltered on her lips when she acknowledged where she was and what had passed between them. The time to hold out hope for their love was long gone.
A wonder the web fate weaves. Isabel had not planned to attend the ball. It was on account of her sister’s ceaseless insistence and the constant reminder that Lady Greyweather was her good friend that compelled her to agree to attend. In truth, upon hearing of Alexander's return, she had scarcely felt enthusiastic about anything, let alone high society balls. And yet it was here that they had met again.
A few days ago, during afternoon tea with some ladies that Elizabeth had invited to her manor, Lord Carter had been the topic. Isabel had sat still, unable to contribute and unable to share with the Ladies what she knew him of him. Even Elizabeth had pretended to be unaware of who he was. It was as though his name was the one on everyone’s lips in the Ton. It made sense, no doubt. The story was the sort that made great strides amongst the nobility; a young war hero of common birth ascending to the high seat of the Earldom of Carter. It was a tale fit for a storybook and here Alexander was, looking every part the hero.
He had grown taller in the intervening years since she had last seen him. His once long hair had been cut shorter, he carried his shoulders high as he walked, and his eyes made her think of the lovely blue sky. He was very attractive if she was being honest. His once baby-round face had been chiseled to strong, masculine sharpness. His bearing spoke of power and capability. He had aged well and many things about his physical appearance had appreciated with time. Especially his grin. It seemed that had lost his boyish grin, but she was sure it was now more manly, mature, as it would compliment his well chiseled jaw that made him look utterly handsome. She nearly sighed at these thoughts.
Alexander stood speaking to the Earl. Isabel could not help but glance at him from time to time. Although Lady Greyweather was sharing something quite important to her, Isabel heard nearly nothing. She hoped that before her friend finished what she was saying, she would figure it all out and feign understanding.
When Isabel glanced back at Alexander briefly, their eyes met and held on for a brief moment before looking away. Those blue eyes were still captivating. They always mesmerized her. And now Isabel felt nostalgic. Her mind took her back to the past, to the moments when she was truly happy. The only time she had ever been happy if she was honest with herself. She wondered if everything would have turned out different if the butler had not caught them in that wine cellar all those years ago. How would their love had blossomed? Would the outcome be different? Perhaps they would be attending this ball as husband and wife. She had loved Alexander so much. He made her feel bliss. She had always imagined that a life without him would be miserable.