Bound by Honor (Book 1 in the Legacy of Love Series)

Chapter 8: A Heart Divided

The early days of Lucien's recovery were marked by whispered plans and stolen moments, by dreams shared in the quiet hours when the estate was draped in the veil of night. Each day, Lucien grew stronger, his color returning, his spirit rising, and with every improvement, their escape drew nearer. Yet within Isolde, the familiar pull of doubt began to twist through her heart, despite the promise of the life she would build with Lucien. She loved him fiercely, more deeply than she had thought possible, but the thought of leaving Marborough—even with its constraints—was an ache she couldn't quite shake.

Lucien, sensing her unspoken turmoil, kept his questions gentle. He seemed to understand, more deeply than she expected, how tightly Marborough had woven itself into her heart. And it was this understanding that made her love him all the more, even as it made her choice so much harder.

One evening, as they sat together by the fire in his room, Isolde stared into the flames, letting the crackling warmth wrap around her as her thoughts drifted. Her gaze turned to Lucien, who was watching her with a quiet intensity, his brow knit in concern.

"You're still unsure," he said softly, his voice carrying no hint of judgment, only a deep understanding.

Isolde looked away, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "It's not about Edwin," she began, searching for the words. "It's about this place. These people who have become my own. Leaving Marborough would mean leaving them behind... leaving behind everything I have tried to build here. What kind of lady would I be if I abandoned them?"

Lucien reached for her hand, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles over her knuckles. "You are a lady because of your heart, Isolde. Marborough has felt your care and your strength; that will stay with them, even if you go."

"But I've given so much of myself to this place, to these people," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "They rely on me, and I... I have found a purpose here, a way to belong. What happens to them if I leave? What happens to the girls I promised a dowry for their marriage, the farmers who depend on me for fair rents? All of it—it's not something I can abandon so easily."

Lucien's hand tightened around hers. He nodded, letting the silence settle, the weight of her conflict heavy between them. "Then we wait," he said finally. "We wait until you're ready. I won't ask you to make a decision that will leave you haunted by regrets. I love you, Isolde. Whether we leave tonight, in a week, or not at all, I'll be by your side."

His words, so simple and yet so steadfast, sent a wave of warmth through her. She realized that, just as she had found a sense of home in Marborough, she had also found a strength and a freedom she hadn't expected with him.

"Thank you, Lucien," she whispered, leaning against his shoulder, her fingers still entwined with his. "You don't know what it means to me to hear that."

They sat in companionable silence, the firelight casting warm, dancing shadows across their faces. She could feel his steady heartbeat beneath her cheek, a constant reminder of the love they shared. Her mind spun with questions that felt too complex to answer, yet with Lucien beside her, she felt the courage to face them.

The next morning dawned clear and quiet, the sunlight filtering gently through the curtains of her chamber. Isolde rose early, determined to visit the estate's lands, to see the people whose lives had become interwoven with her own. She needed to see them, to understand fully what she would be leaving behind.

Dressed in her simplest gown and cloak, she moved through the estate grounds with a calm resolve, greeting familiar faces as she went. There was Marjorie, the cook's daughter, who had taken a liking to Isolde's kindness and often brought her wildflowers, shyly hiding them beneath her apron until she could slip them into Isolde's hand with a soft smile. She stopped to talk with old Robert, the stable master, who had often spoken to her as if she were a daughter, sharing tales of his youth and his deep love for the estate. And the children—how they adored her, their laughter filling the air as they ran to her, eyes bright with innocence and trust.