Heart of Darkness (37 page)

Clutching his stomach, Jaegar rolled upwards
at the hip and shot a glare at her.

“Is that the thanks I get?” she asked with a
cocked brow.

“I don't need anyone to help me!”

“Oh yes, it really appeared that way! How can
you stare death in the face and still be defiant?”

Jaegar shrugged and Wolfe scoffed at his
half-brother's gesture. “Perhaps, you should learn to appreciate
what you have, Jaegar.”

“And what's that, Wolfe? A title- wait, I
don't have that. A reputation, no, nor that. Money, yes. Power, no.
Love or a mate? Definitely not. But wait, does the man who has
taken my role in life have all of that? Indeed, he does! Do you
think I should be happy about that?”

“Jaegar, I always had that. I'm not pleased
or happy about it, damn it! Father was completely in the wrong to
go about it the way he did. I don't deny it, but what can I do
about it? The estate, all of it, is entailed!”

“There's nothing you can do. And the fact
that you want to do something, does not make it better. Futility
makes me bitter, Wolfe. Can't you understand that?” he hissed.

Isabeau interceded, “Of course, he can and so
can I, but do you think it's fair to blame Wolfe? Your father's
behavior, right or wrong, has nothing to do with Wolfe. Can't you
take solace from the fact that were it not for your desire to
compete with him, he would wish to be your family?”

“No. Call me small-minded, but that is what
life has made me!” He shook his head and rolled to his knees and
then struggled to his feet.

They looked on as he walked out of the
chamber, as bitter and as unhappy as ever and there was naught, not
even a second chance at life, that could change that.

Almost as though his absence lifted something
from the atmosphere, she instantly ran to Wolfe and was accepted
into his embrace with a willingness and welcome that had her heart
fluttering. As close as they were, it simply wasn't enough and she
shuddered as she realized that now, she was safe.

With her face tucked against his chest, she
mumbled, “Mate?”

“I thought it strange that you hadn't heard
that,” he teased, his voice sounded lighter than it had done
earlier, but she was not fooled. There was still gravity there that
told her, while he'd wanted and contemplated Jaegar's death, to see
his brother so hurt and so damaged by his long-dead father's
behavior had truly hurt him. La, what a complicated relationship
they had!

“When did you want me to plague you with
questions?” she asked, her lips pursed to hide her smile.

She jumped on to tip toes and pressed a kiss
to his mouth, one that he instantly took full advantage of, by
swiping his tongue along her parted lips and seeking entrance.

She moaned into his mouth as their lips
joined and felt her lungs begin to burn as she sought pleasure
rather than air. He was the first to break away and he murmured,
“Give me your ring.”

Dazedly, she complied and watched as he
tugged off a signet ring that she'd seen many a time and realized
that he was about to incite the same ritual as Jaegar had attempted
what felt like a lifetime ago, but was, in reality, only thirty or
forty minutes ago!

Isabeau licked her lips as he took her hand
and gently led her to the altar, where he removed Jaegar's ring
with a scowl and replaced it with both of theirs. She pressed her
finger to the rim and he did the same. Even though she felt
exhausted, this was one ceremony that she would not shy away from,
not when it offered what she wanted most in the world. For them to
be joined!

It was almost more than she could
believe.

While she'd thought her power to be almost
exhausted, it seemed that simply being with Wolfe, having kissed
him and feeling the buzzing sensation of the thought of being wed
to him, increased her power.

Be it by Sidhe lore or human, she did not
care. It was more than she had ever hoped for and it was coming
true. After the despair of last night and the horror of it, to feel
that lovely warmth of hope again made tears choke her throat.

She flooded all of her reserves into the ring
and watched as his ring and hers began to glow. Licking her lips,
for she was unsure of what happened next, Isabeau watched as his
fingers dipped into the bowl and pulled out both items of jewelry.
When they were out of the bowl, she noticed that the glowing lights
were different hues. His gleamed with a bright whiteness and hers
with a pinkish brilliance.

He placed them on his smallest finger and
then closed his eyes. Isabeau watched in amazement as the two
metals began to change and merged into an identical color. Wolfe's
eyes popped open again and he slowly removed both rings and then
placed them on her left hand and he directed, “Channel your power
into the stone again.”

She swallowed and as she bit her lip, closed
her eyes and let her magick rush into the onyx once again. A
strange heat assailed her. Neither searing nor enough to warm her
body, merely there. Present and yet apart from herself.

It was a soothing balm and filled her with a
restful serenity that she had not felt for a long, long time. Since
she'd last been with her parents to be precise.

Slowly, she looked at Wolfe and then the
rings and noticed that the two different golds had been forever
tempered into an identical shade. She blinked at that and then
inwardly shrugged, for there was much about the Sidhe ways that
were complex and confusing to her. Far too many for her to ask
Wolfe about, as she would forever be asking questions!

She shrugged it off and then lifted her gaze
to meet his.

“Are we mates now?”

“We were always mates. But now, we are bound,
yes.”

“You knew when we first met?”

He hesitated. “Almost.”

“You knew yet you did not use it to persuade
me? I'm not sure whether or not I should be happy or sad about
that!”

“I did not want to use that to sway you. It
would not have been your choice then, but something that you would
have felt you had to do.”

“It would have been much easier for you, that
is certain! Perhaps I would not have tried to escape!”

“I'm sure you would have done,” he remarked
with a smile. Before he continued talking to her, he tilted his
head to the side and directed at Gerard, who if she were honest,
she had completely forgotten about, and murmured, “Leave us for the
moment, Gerard. We will be out in a few moments.”

“Of course,” Gerard said and Isabeau heard
the door open once more and then close.

“Yesterday, did I hear you correctly,
Isabeau?”

“In what regard?” she asked with a slight
frown.

He raised his hand and smoothed down his
eyebrow with his index finger. Her eye was caught on his
differently hued ring, which still held an effervescent light. “You
said that you loved me.”

“Yes, I did.”

He cleared his throat. “You meant it then? It
wasn't just the stress of the moment?”

She felt not one ounce of embarrassment at
her feelings and looked him directly in the eye as she clearly
said, “Yes. I meant it. I love you.”

Silence reigned for a few moments and then,
she started to feel awkward. He just continued to look at her and a
blush began to spread across her cheeks. A part of her had hoped
that he would share the declaration, but instead, he just nodded
and dropped his head to press a kiss to her cheek.

Disappointed, she smiled weakly and let him
take her hand. He walked her out of the chapel and then led her
down the corridor and to the main hall. There was a major
difference between its occupants. Before, men at arms had filled
the chamber, now there were soldiers here but they all had rather
familiar faces. Men that she had seen about the castle and had not
had her fearing for her body.

Outside, hovering in the driveway was a
carriage, into which Wolfe helped her. The drive that returned them
to the castle was equally as silent as his lack of declaration had
been and again, Isabeau felt that awkwardness and felt most
discomforted by it. His silence...and lack of declaration, what did
that actually mean?

She feared it meant that he did not love her.
But she was his mate- what was that? Someone who the Fates deigned
yours and yours alone. Surely that was love?

With a faint frown, Isabeau opened her mouth
to ask him, but abruptly closed it, when a call shot out of nowhere
and she realized that they had crossed into Wolfe's land.

When the carriage rumbled to a halt outside
the castle door, the apparatus bounced a little as one of the
footmen jumped to the ground and rushed around to help her exit it.
She alighted swiftly and was soon joined by Wolfe, who took her arm
as he walked her up the front stairs of the castle's entrance and
through the door.

She stopped, startled as she look upon a
hefty chunk of the castle's staff.

Wolfe stopped before the butler and
announced, “Your Duchess of Sinclair and Heath.”

The pronouncement was met with a soft titter
of applause and beaming smiles that were sent both of their way.
Reverting to her mama's teaching, she slowly ducked her head to
accept their congratulations and started to walk slowly down the
line. The butler bowed, the housekeeper and cook curtsied and the
footmen and myriad maids all showed their respect in the same
way.

It seemed that the whole castle was willing
to progress with the charade that she had not spent countless
nights in the Duke's bedchamber before their marriage had taken
place! Otherwise, they would have politely shown their disdain for
her. In numerous, hidden ways their disrespect and dislike of her
would have been evident.

She was most relieved that they liked her. A
home in which one's staff hated one, was not pleasant. Not at
all!

When she reached the end of the line, in a
soft, clear voice, she said, “I thank you for your welcome and hope
that I can strengthen the ducal line of Sinclair and Heath for
future generations.”

She smiled faintly and then nodded her head
at them in slight dismissal, before spinning around and walking
with Wolfe to the stairs.

Together, they climbed them and walked to his
bedchamber. A part of her was relieved that he took her there and
did not pause outside his mother's old bedchamber. She had feared
that he might have left her there- but apparently not.

The instant they walked through the chamber,
she moved to the bell pull and tugged it, saying, “I desperately
need a bath and to change out of this detestable apparel!”

“We shall go to London within the next couple
of weeks to have you fitted with some clothes of your own.”

She nodded. “We should visit my father's
solicitors also.” When he said nothing, Isabeau murmured, “I'm my
father's heiress, Wolfe. God knows what has been happening with my
inheritance these years past.”

“I shall have Gerard make inquiries.”

A knock sounded at the door. “Enter,” he
called out and in walked the butler. “Bathwater, please,
Saiville.”

“Of course, your Grace. Will you be requiring
anything from the kitchen, sir?”

Wolfe looked at her but she shook her head
and turned to face the fire that gleamed brilliantly there.

“No. Just the bath, Saiville.”

“Very well, your Grace.” With a low bow, the
butler departed and left them to that damnably awkward silence, yet
again.

Unsure of what to say or do, she moved to the
door that led to his mama's old chamber and was about to seek out a
clean chemise and dress, when his hands grabbed at her shoulders
when she was but a step from the door.

“No! Isabeau, I won't let you sleep in
there.”

She frowned up at him. “I didn't intend to. I
just wanted some clean things.”

He looked immensely relieved but frowned
nonetheless. “We have servants for that, Isabeau.”

She sighed. “I'm not useless, Wolfe.”

“Did I say that you were? Tis they're job.
These little tasks are what feeds and houses them.”

“I don't need a lecture.”

“I fear you do, my Duchess.”

She smiled faintly. “A Duchess. My
Grandmother will be celebrating in heaven. She was a dreadful
social climber, you know.”

“We all have skeletons in the closet,” he
teased and she laughed.

“Ah, but Grandmother was a social climber of
different sorts. She aspired to be a Patroness of Almack's. A
Duchess for a Granddaughter would have strengthened her plight,”
Isabeau finished with a slight grin.

She looked up at him and noticed the fading
amusement on his face.

“I'm most glad that you are back, Isabeau,”
he commented huskily.

“Why?” she asked.

Wolfe shrugged.

It was not the reply that she wanted! Isabeau
sighed with frustration and spun away from him. “Why, Wolfe? Am I
truly your mate?” she asked impatiently.