Consequences

Part 70

Isabelle figured now was as good a time as any to tell him that unlike the last time, this time they weren't responsible for the recent notice. The problem was she did not know if he'd believe her. Still, no point keeping silent. "We didn't put the announcement in." She told him on a yawn. "Someone is obviously trying to cause trouble."

"Don't worry about it." He said blithely and got to his feet. He knew who was probably responsible for the notice. "I'll be back." Doug tucked the duvet around her shoulders and picked then seeing her eyelids struggle to remain apart he knew she was tiring. So he picked up the mug and headed out of the room.

She was sound asleep when he returned. With a touch that was exceptionally gentle Doug checked her forehead again. She wasn't hot, or clammy. That was good. It still struck him as rather interesting that he had taken time off work to play nursemaid to her. In the back of his mind he wondered whether he was doing it out of guilt. His grandmother was right to accuse him of leaving Isabelle in the lurch. And it did not sit well with him.

He wasn't the type of man who'd normally treat people so shabbily. It had weighed on his conscience for a while. To the extent that even Ryan had picked up on the fact that Doug was often lost in thought and it wasn't business.

Both Jared and Ryan had apparently discussed Doug's pre-occupation. While Doug had tried to steer them away from asking about what and who was on his mind, he knew that his best friend and his brother knew him well enough to know that he felt bad about the way he had left Isabelle to fend for herself.

But still, nursemaid? That wasn't his style. He looked across at Isabelle. She was sound asleep, her long lashes dark against her pale skin. She was too thin. Clearly since the news about the family had become public fodder, she and her sisters had had to deal with unexpected hostility. He hoped things settled down soon.

The notice of their on again engagement did not worry him. Not in the slightest. He knew who was behind it. Or at least he thought he did. He'd talk it over with her when she was feeling better.

After giving her one more look, he turned and headed back down stairs. There was stuff he could be getting on with. So without any fuss, Doug picked up the sheaf of papers he'd brought in and left on the kitchen counter, and headed for the kitchen table. It nearly made him smile. Who'd have thought he'd be sitting in her kitchen working on papers that needed his urgent attention. With a wry smile sitting in the kitchen he began to sift through the paper work as he ate the cereal breakfast he'd made. It should have felt strange, being in someone's home, eating their cereals, working on his business and being completely content to be where he was. It was as if this was the norm. As if coming home, coming here were the same thing. In any case it did not bother him for his mind soon focused on the work at hand. He had a lot to deal with and it was just a matter of minutes before he was completely immersed in his work material.

Three hours later Isabelle padded into the kitchen. She'd woken up, replayed what she remembered about their conversation, figured out he'd probably gone home and decided that she really needed to get her act together. So despite still feeling a bit light-headed she had made her way to the bathroom, had a quick wash to freshen up and then taken her time to walk to the kitchen. She needed something to eat. The house was silent as she made slow and steady progress to the kitchen. But she had not expected to find him sitting there, with paper work all around him, a mug close at hand, and an empty cereal bowl on the counter by the sink.

"I thought you'd gone." Self conscious she ran tired fingers through her hair, trying to comb it into some semblance of order. She'd washed her face but hadn't bothered to do anything about her hair. It needed a wash and a comb. But neither had appealed given the effort she'd need to make.

Doug's eyes tracked her from head to toe. She was still clearly not steady on her feet. "How do you feel?" His eyes tracked her fingers as they sifted through her hair. Then his eyes went back to focus on her face.

"Good." Isabelle looked at the lap top he'd set up and took in the small pile of paperwork. "I didn't mean to cause you this inconvenience." She felt guilty. He should not be here looking after her. He should be taking care of business. His business.

"You haven't." Doug smiled, then added with a wry grin, "In fact it's been the perfect opportunity to work through some stuff without interruptions from the phone, or Ryan or, well anyone." Which was the truth. He had got an amazing amount of work done.

She flopped into a chair. She was still feeling rather weak and though she did not want her state to be noticed, she figured flopping onto a chair was better than sliding to the floor.

"Fancy some scrambled eggs?" Doug got to his feet.

"I can do it." She braced to get to her feet, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"So can I." He told her gently seeing that she was battling the need to be responsible for her welfare and knowing that it would be a struggle right at the moment.

With a soft sigh, Isabelle conceded. "That would be great. Thank you." She sank back into the chair. When was the last time she felt this weak? The lack of food, that's what it was, she told herself.