The ride home was torture.
Not in the dramatic, poetic sense, but in the real, suffocating, tense kind of way. The kind where you could almost hear the silence buzzing between two people who were thinking a thousand things but saying none of them.
At first, Leofric had tried.
"Isabella," he had said gently, turning to face her as the carriage wheels rumbled over the stone road. "Can we talk about what happened?"
She didn't even blink. Just kept her eyes on the window, her gloved fingers curled tightly on her lap. Her body was stiff, her jaw clenched.
Leofric sighed and leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face.
So that's how it was going to be.
After the third attempt, he gave up. Maybe the silence would do them some good. Maybe it would help them calm down, clear their heads.
So he leaned back into the velvet cushions and tried not to think about how foolish he must have looked swinging at Lord Julius like a common brawler. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw Julius's smug grin and Isabella's fearful look, he felt that awful tension rising like bile in his throat.
He wasn't even sure what he was so angry about anymore. Was he angry that Julius had taken her through that passageway? Or that Isabella had gone with him? That he hadn't gotten there sooner?
All he knew was that something about seeing her frightened face when he burst into that hidden chamber. Something about the way her eyes had locked with his like she needed him had twisted something deep in his chest.
He had wanted to kill the man. And maybe, if Isabella hadn't intervened, he would have.
Beside him, Isabella was fighting her own mental storm. Her thoughts were chasing each other in circles. How had she been so stupid? Why hadn't she just stayed in the ballroom? Why had she followed Julius? And why—why—had she cared so much about what Leofric would think?
She was embarrassed. Deeply, painfully embarrassed by the whole scene—but still angry
The anger she felt wasn't even for Leofric anymore. It was for herself.
But still, when he tried to speak, she couldn't bring herself to forgive him or herself. Not yet.
The carriage finally pulled into the manor courtyard, its wheels crunching against gravel. As the door opened, the glow from the torches lit up their faces. Isabella stepped down first, not waiting for Leofric's hand.
The people around stood at attention, but their smiles faltered when they saw the couple. Just a few hours ago, they'd left the house whispering and laughing, practically glowing. Now, they looked like they were ready to duel.
"What happened?" Judith asked no in particular, eyes glancing between the two stiff figures walking a good two feet apart.
Eric, who was standing with his arms crossed by the door, gave a dramatic shake of his head. "I said it was a bad idea to attend Lady Harcourt's ball," he called after them. "But nooo, no one ever listens to Eric!"
No one laughed. Judith gave him a questioning look while Robert just shook his head in disbelief. "They will sort themselves out. They are just being themselves."
The butler cleared his throat, clearly unsure whether to welcome them home or dive behind a potted plant.
Leofric didn't even glance at anyone. He followed Isabella straight inside, ignoring the questioning eyes that trailed behind them. They didn't say a word as they climbed the stairs. Not one.
As soon as they reached their chamber, Leofric's voice cut through the silence like a whip. "Alright, enough of this."
Isabella turned on her heels, face tight with anger. "Enough of what?"
"This—this— whatever this is." he said, throwing his hands in the air. "And I've been trying to keep the peace, but clearly that's not working."
"Oh, now you want to talk?" she shot back, walking toward him.
"You should be asking yourself that, madam." His brows drew together in a frown. "I have been trying to talk."
"After nearly killing someone?" Isabella asked, eyes narrowing for a few seconds.
"And what was I supposed to do? Let him corner you in the dark and pretend it was polite conversation?" Leofric fired back, tossing his gloves onto a chair. "You followed him, Isabella. You left the ballroom without a word!"
"I didn't know what he was planning!" she said, throwing up her hands. "I thought he—I had it under control."
"No, you didn't!" Leofric's eyes darkened. "That's exactly why I'm furious. You should've walked away the moment he opened that damn gate. But no, you had to prove a point."
"I didn't want him to think I was scared," Isabella shouted.
"You should have been!" He yelled, and that made her flinch. Her hands balled into fists at her sides.
"Why are we making this all about me? What about you?" she snapped. "I hope we are not forgetting the fact that you made a fool out of me in front of everyone this evening. Did you enjoy having another woman in your arms?"
Leofric's shoulders tensed. "I had to. She…." The words got stuck in his throat as he looked away from Isabella. How was he supposed to explain the situation he was in without sounding like a fool?
"What? Does she have something on you that I don't know about?" She watched as he slowly shook his head. "Then what was the reason? Why did you let her make a fool of me?"
His face fell further. "I didn't mean to—"
"I don't care what you meant, Leofric. I care what you did. What they all saw." She turned to him, eyes burning. "Do you have any idea what it felt like? Standing there, waiting, while you turned your back on me?"
Leofric opened and closed his mouth. "I am sorry."
"You keep saying that." She turned away from him. "And now… now everyone probably thinks I'm something else entirely. Some scandalous wife sneaking around in hallways."
"They don't know anything," Leofric said quietly, stepping closer. "And since when did you start caring about what people think of you?"
"I don't know anymore." She whispered, "I don't know anything anymore."
"Well, at least you should know that I am not sorry for what I did to Julius. I wanted to break his jaw the moment he smiled at you. And I hated that I couldn't do anything until he crossed a line."
There was a short pause in the room as it was Isabella's turn to open and close her mouth.
Leofric continued, "What if something serious had happened? You probably don't know this, but the thought of something happening to you... it scares me more than I know how to say."
A thick blanket of silence fell over the room.
Then, Leofric sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. "Maybe I should've held back. I don't know. "
Isabella looked at him for a long moment, her eyes softening at how helpless he looked.
She took slow steps and lowered herself beside him on the bed.
She cleared her throat. "Well, I'm glad you beat him up," she muttered.
"He was—" Leofric lifted his head. "Wait…what?"
Isabella nodded, confirming what he heard. "He deserved it." She turned her head to meet his gaze. "I was so scared," she said softly.
Another pause. Leofric slowly cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her skin. "Me too. I hate fighting with you."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Isabella's lips. "Then stop giving me reasons to."
"I'll try," he said, leaning down to capture her lips.