A Spinster for the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel (The Hale Sisters Book 3)

When Isaac arrived back at the Ramsbury Estate in the morning, he found Arabella sitting on the couch, wearing all black again like she used to do. Her eyes were glassy and red-rimmed as if she’s been crying since he had last seen her. Without a word, he sat beside her.

For a few moments, they sat in silence. At least for Isaac, he was praying to a God that he was very unfamiliar with, asking for the wisdom to meet his mother at a place that was comfortable for both of them.

“I read the letter you sent Miss Lucy,” he began. “I think I understand what happened, but I want to give you the opportunity to tell me in your own words.”

Arabella wiped a tear off her cheek and took a shaky breath. “Isaac, I’m sorry,” she said. “It is no excuse, but I only wanted to understand why you were, in my opinion, wasting your time with Miss Lucy. In an effort to understand you better, I tried to understand why you were putting your future on hold for a spinster.”

“We have been strangers living in this house together. I…” He exhaled, clenching his eyes shut. “I miss you. I miss the way things used to be.”

“Speaking to Miss Lucy did something to me,” Arabella continued. “I’ve been so bitter since your father passed away that I just gave up on living and, in turn, gave up on you.”

Within an instant, she broke down, head in her lap, crying. As much as Isaac wanted to stay frustrated, he reached over and placed a comforting hand on her back. He closed his eyes and let her cry for a few minutes.

He had resented her for turning away from him all those years ago. Within a day, he had been forced to grow up all alone. His father had died, and he had lost his mother as well. Marriage had always scared him. Would the same fate befall him? Would he cease to live the moment someone he cared for died?

Grief was a terrible, destructive thing. He had watched it eat his mother alive, and living with her ghost had been so much harder than not living with her at all, as terrible as it was to admit.

“You suffered a loss, and I will never understand how much it has hurt you, but Father would hate to see you living like this,” he murmured. “We have to move forward. I want to move forward, but I cannot do it alone.”

He had been so resistant to marrying because he didn’t want to bring a wife and children to live in a haunted house. It hadn’t been healthy for him, and it certainly wasn’t healthy for children.

His mother fell into him, resting her head on his chest. He stroked her hair. She still felt like a stranger, but he pushed on, remembering her for the woman she used to be and not the woman that sat there. He believed she could be restored, but that required some change from him too.

“I failed you. I failed our family,” she croaked.

“You deserved someone who could be patient with you.” He sighed. “And I regret that that wasn’t me. We failed each other, I cannot let you take all the blame for this.”

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. Simon Robins had been a good man, but neither of them had ever properly seen him off. They had tried so hard to live in the past. Arabella had become a shell of her former self, and Isaac had refused to take full responsibility and grow up.

Lucy had changed him, and he hoped that during the visit with his mother, she had helped her change for the better too.

Once Arabella had tired herself out from crying, she took a deep breath. “I understand why you love her. She’s intelligent, well-spoken, fierce, and most of all, Isaac, she loves you. You deserve to be loved. I hate myself for having let you down. You deserve love, and you more than deserve it from her.”

Isaac licked his lips and blinked, internalizing her words as best he could. “Did she tell you that?”

“This is the last time I meddle,” his mother said sheepishly. “But yes, she told me that.”

Isaac grappled with the regret in his chest over how he had treated Lucy. She hadn’t deserved his anger. If there was anyone in this world who could understand the pain his mother had dredged up, it was Lucy. Maybe if he’d confided in her, things might have been solved with patience and wisdom instead of his usual fire and passion.

“It will take time,” Arabella added. “I want to go back to the way things were, but if you work with me, I know we can get there.”

He gave her a gentle smile. “I am more than happy to put the work in. I miss you.”

Isaac and his mother sat there for a very long time. And then, around noon, he fixed himself up in front of the mirror and made his way back to London for his fifth and final promenade.

Lucy could feel her heart in her throat as she stared at Isaac. When he had left, he’d hurt her, and now, here he was. She didn’t know if he’d ever come back. Out of the corner of her eyes, she glanced at Emma, who had stayed, just as she had promised, to see her through her heartache.

Emma stared at the book in her lap, pretending that she was reading when she so clearly was not.

“I would like to take you on a promenade,” Isaac said, carefully combing over his words.

Lucy felt her face redden, but no longer in the way it usually did around him. This was anger. This was frustration and annoyance.

“A promenade? Are you serious? We haven’t spoken at all, and I have been waiting for you, wondering where I went wrong.”

“Lucy,” he said, reaching out, but immediately pulled his hands back when Emma lifted her head. She warned him with a biting look before returning to her book. Despite her confessions to Lucy the other day, she played the part of a stern chaperone well.

Isaac cleared his throat. “I apologize. I never let you explain to me what happened. I was so upset with my mother that I allowed my anger for her to control my feelings for you. I cannot take that back, but I hope you will let me express my remorse.”

Lucy took a deep breath and nodded.

“Can I please explain to you on a promenade? We haven’t had our fifth one yet.”

She ground her teeth and looked back at him, but when she finally stopped to see how genuine his entrancing eyes were, she softened.

“I am not going anywhere. However, I am sure Emma will be happy to sit outside while you walk with me.”

“Hmm?” Emma looked up.

“I know you heard that. Do not lie.”

Emma closed her book and stood up, smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress. “I think I should be able to read outside.” And with that, she led them to the backdoor.

It was warm but overcast, and Lucy hated how the smell of rain made her remember their night in the garden. When she had been at her saddest, she wished she could be back there, because in her mind, that had always been how it should always be. Just them. Just happy. Just completely vulnerable and safe.

Emma took her seat on a bench outside and opened her book again. Isaac offered Lucy his elbow, and she took it, steeling herself and hoping that this could be enough to repair what they had broken. They stepped into the grass together and walked toward a flower bed filled with roses of all colors. Lord Wilkes showed his sentiments in only a few places. For one, he loved flowers, and the Hale sisters had always kept it quiet if only to protect his pride.

Isaac breathed in sharply. “I read the letter. My grandmother showed me everything and explained to me what happened.” He shook his head. “I did everything wrong.”

He pulled his elbow closer. It was a thinly veiled attempt at bringing Lucy as close as he could without Emma’s interference. Lucy closed her eyes, savoring how good it felt to be close to him once more.

“What you didn’t know was that my mother wanted me to propose to Miss Barrington. She thought you were wasting my time, so when I heard that she had met with you, I thought her goal was to hurt you, and in my fear, I was the one who hurt you. I feel like such a fool.”

Lucy nodded. Suddenly, all the questioning made sense. Arabella was testing her to see whether she actually cared for Isaac or if she was cruelly taking advantage of his attention. Arabella missed her son, but it seemed like she hadn’t the slightest clue how to get herself back into his life.

“Does she still think that?”

“No,” Isaac replied. “She said she understood why I rejected Miss Barrington if only to spend more time with you.”

Lucy had never heard him describe Kitty as if he had passed her up. She knew that he had facilitated her meeting with Adam, but she never knew if anything had come of it. Knowing that he had given up the chance at a relatively happy marriage just because he wanted to spend more time with her moved her. She didn’t deserve that. As far as he knew, she was still unwilling to marry him. Why was he still here if she had the ability to hurt him?

“I accept your apology,” Lucy said.

“Thank you, Lucy.” He swallowed. “Seeing as this is our last promenade, I—”

“Our last?”

“This is the fifth promenade, Lucy. It’s the last one.”

Lucy pulled him to a stop. Her eyes stung with tears, but she tamped them down. She had believed that it was more for him, and now he was telling her that their time was up.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not.”

“But now what? Are you ending our time together?”

She bit her tongue, clinging to the last bit of hope she had left. She might have been a fool to ever think that a rake might consider marrying someone like her. Maybe everything they had shared was all in her head and the physical intimacy had clouded her judgment of his feelings.

His eyebrows turned up, and he looked like he might have reached out for her again. However, with Emma looming like a watchtower on high alert, they had to be mindful of their proximity.

“Lucy, please. I will take as many more promenades as I am allowed. There is no one I would rather spend my time with,” he pleased.

“Isaac,” Lucy breathed. She didn’t care for a moment that Emma was sitting so close. She reached out, feeling brave, and put her hand in his. “I did it. I embarrassed myself, I hurt my pride, I melted my wings, and I fell out of the sky. All because I changed my mind.”

“About…” he trailed off, brushing her fingers with his thumb. “About marriage?”

Lucy nodded. “I… I think.” She clenched her eyes shut, feeling vulnerable by the admission. “I just want you. I know that you would never clip my wings, and I would never clip yours. I feel better. I feel myself when I’m with you,” she admitted.

She never thought she would admit it, let alone first, let alone like this: hands shaking, lip trembling. But love was not something Lucy could reason with or understand. It just was.

“You are destined for great things. Fly as close to the sun as you want. I won’t let you fall,” he promised. “I love you.”

Lucy glowed with warmth. “I love you too, Isaac.”

He looked over his shoulder at Emma, who was still pretending to read on the porch, but too far away to hear what they were saying.

“Can we finish this conversation in private on Friday evening? We can sneak away during the ball I am hosting,” he whispered.

Excitedly, Lucy agreed, giving his hand a squeeze before letting him go. “Friday evening,” she repeated, a smile forming on her lips.