What You Deserve (Anything for Love, Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

suppress the dark cloud descending. “There has never been anyone else. It has always been Isabella.”
    “Holy heaven.” Chandler rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled. “There is a small part of me that is curious to know what it feels like to be that obsessed with a woman. Do you sleep at night? Does the intense feeling of longing ever subside?”
    “No.”
    “Good Lord! Then you’re in need of more than a drink.”
    Tristan watched Isabella hovering on the opposite side of the room, waiting to see who she spoke to, but he struggled to keep her in his line of sight. “What is she doing here, Matthew?” He sighed as he brushed his hand through his hair. But the sudden urge to protect her grew fierce. “Lord Fernall is a blasted idiot. Why would he allow her to venture out on her own at night?”
    “I’m confused,” Chandler said. “Are you speaking of her stepson? It does sound ludicrous that I should refer to Henry as such when they are practically the same age.”
    Tristan frowned. “I was not speaking of Henry Fernall, but of her husband.”
    Chandler slapped his hand to his chest and stepped back. “Her husband?” he repeated. “But Lord Fernall is dead. Surely you knew.”
    There was a moment of stunned silence.
    Tristan repeated the words over and over in his mind for fear he had misheard.
    “Dead!” Tristan shook his head. “But you must be mistaken. My mother would have told me.” He had seen Henry Fernall at the theatre, but in the crush they had not had a chance to speak. “Someone would have mentioned the fact.”
    Chandler shrugged. “People probably assumed you knew. As did I.”
    Tristan stared out across the sea of heads to find Isabella still standing alone. Why the bloody hell hadn’t she mentioned it when she’d asked to speak to him in her carriage. Whilst he was annoyed that she had not had the decency to offer her condolences for Andrew’s death, he was guilty of the same crime.
    An odd feeling of panic flared. “Has she remarried?”
    “No. She has been a widow these last two years.”
    “Two years!” Instant relief was marred by shock. Two blasted years and no one saw fit to write to him in France. His mother had some explaining to do. Andrew hadn’t written to him either. Tristan had always suspected his brother admired Isabella. Perhaps he had thought to use the opportunity to press his advances. Was that why she spoke of him so highly?
    “Forgive me. I would have found a more tactful way to tell you had I known.” Chandler glanced across the ballroom. “That is why I was surprised you questioned her motive for coming here.”
    “So she does have a lover then.” He hadn’t thought the words would sound so bitter.
    “No!” Chandler gave a humorous snort. “She is obviously here to see you.”
    “But I told no one of my intention to attend this evening.”
    “Then she must have followed you here.” Chandler’s roving eye ventured to two ladies hovering a few feet away. One was dressed as a shepherdess, the other in a grey nun’s habit, though her bold grin suggested her true character was far removed from the one she displayed. “Go and speak to her. I’m sure I can find something to occupy my time whilst you’re gone.”
    The ladies whispered to one another, smiled seductively and then exited through the doors leading out onto the terrace.
    “Unless you would prefer a little light relief,” Chandler continued. “You’re welcome to accompany me on a stroll through the garden. I hear one can often find all sorts of delightful creatures lingering in the shrubbery.”
    “Your generosity knows no bounds,” Tristan said failing to suppress a grin. He had always found Chandler highly amusing. “But with your gargantuan appetite, I know it will be impossible for you to share.”
    Chandler slapped him on the back. “You’re right, of course. I was simply being polite.” As Tristan moved to step away, Chandler caught his arm. “You know there are