Alexander awoke with a start before a pang of pain radiated between his temples. Groaning he moved his hand to his forehead and cursed the copious amounts of brandy he had consumed the day and night before. After the events that had transpired in his study between himself and Isabella he had tried in vain to settle his errant mind and body by going for a long gallop atop Midnight. However on his return to the house, his vexatious thoughts did not cease, thus he continued to consume more and more of the devilish amber liquid until his mind became fussy and eventually he staggered drunkenly to his bedroom.

Rising slowly from his bed, he realised that it was almost 2pm. "Damn" he cursed aloud on fathoming the rare occurrence that he had slept half of the day away. He detested tardiness and it was looking like his business for the day would have to wait until tomorrow. He pulled the bell for his manservant then and he appeared within minutes. Taking in Alexander's unusual dishevelled state he muttered "Good afternoon your grace" and proceeded to place a tray holding an odd coloured drink on his bedside table with a knowing grin. "Mrs Carter made this up for you this morning your grace" he mumbled before adding "She also requested that I ask you- should she order another case of brandy, seeing as you seem to have a fondness for it of late?" Alexander instantly realised the hidden meaning in her question, she was highlighting in her motherly way that she was unhappy with his current habits. Grinning he replied "No that is not necessary" before he pinched his nose with one hand and quickly drank back the contents of the glass. Coughing slightly he grimaced before saying "Thank heavens for Mrs Carter's hangover cure, that's all I can say! Although I never want to know its contents" Leaving the glass back on the table he rose and dressed quickly before seeking out the only other cure he knew- a swim in the lake!

The cool water revived him somewhat as he swam until his arms became tired. Moving back onto the grassy embankment he towelled himself dry and revelled in the warmth of the sunshine as it hit his bare skin. Once again his thoughts returned to Isabella and he groaned at the predicament he was now in. After what had happened yesterday, how could he ever be content with the mere flirtatious happenstances they had had in the past? He wanted her more than any other woman he had ever encountered. But it was more than just want, he thought then, he needed her in his life and for her to be with him always. The prospect of a cold marriage with Lady Worthington was more than he could bear; he had to have Isabella by his side, he thought in trepidation. But could he really go against his late parents' wishes and dishonour his promise to the Worthington's? He had briefly toyed with the notion of asking Isabella to become his mistress, but realised he could never ask that of her. She was too principled and concerned by others opinions to ever consider such a life and he loved her too much to ask it of her. Sighing he dressed himself and went in search of Midnight who he found grazing on a patch of grass nearby. A gentle breeze bustled through an adjacent oak tree before he placed his foot in the stirrup and mounted atop his faithful steed to begin the short ride back to Rothbury house.

Entering the foyer he quickly checked his pocket watch and noted that the time was 4pm. She will likely be finished with Emma's lessons for the day he thought. With that he went in search of her. He had no idea what to say to Isabella but he felt he must see her, even it was just to assuage any anxiety she had following yesterday's events. She had avoided yesterday's dinner and he had to admit he was somewhat relived as to that decision, as he was in no state to dine with her after their encounter either. The embarrassed look she had given him before she left his study yesterday still haunted him! She was a maid of course, and such experiences had been completely new to her, however he feared that she was perhaps annoyed with him after he had taken liberties by awakening her in that intimate way. He had to confess however, that given the chance again he would have acted in the same way, she affected him too much.

He moved through the house checking various rooms as he went but she was nowhere to be found. Entering the kitchens, he finally spotted Mrs Carter and progressed toward her "Thank you for your cure this morning, it was most welcomed" he ginned appreciatively before continuing "Could you tell me where Isabella is?" Mrs Carter visibly paled in response before she slowly muttered "Ah I'm not ...quite sure your grace". Her eyes darted about the room before she looked at him directly once more and said hurriedly "I believe Alfred was looking for you earlier...some post arrived from London this morning and he left it in your study" Alexander looked at her oddly then, wondering why she was acting so strangely, it seemed to him that she was attempting to change the subject. However, the noise and smell in the kitchens was beginning to make him nauseous once more, so he decided not to question her further just yet. "Thank you, I shall see to it directly" he replied then before deciding instead to venture to Isabella's bedroom in the hopes she was there.

As he approached nearer to his destination he found that a feeling of nervousness grew within him and he had to tramp it down as he walked the long corridors towards her room. After knocking on her door several times no reply came from within, thus he turned the door handle and entered slowly before coming to sudden stop. A wave of emotion coursed through him as he realised she was not here and her room looked decidedly bare. Some of the drawers on her dresser were left open and the wardrobe doors were left ajar, revealing on closer inspection that some of her clothes had been removed, with the finer dresses left behind. In that moment he became keenly aware that she had left. He began to move towards her dresser before his foot stubbed against something firm. Looking down he saw a small leather bound book which lay open on the floor and he bent down to pick it up. She must have dropped it he realised and a small smile then passed his lips in remembrance of the first time he met Isabella. He had handed her a fallen bead from her reticule, and as his hand touched hers he had instantly become lost to her. His eyes then fell on the words that were on the left page of the open book before him: Sonnet 116. Moving his eyes over the lines of the sonnet his heart almost came to a standstill as he read:

Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken

Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

To say these words moved him was a grand understatement. It seemed Shakespeare had written the words for him alone. He was failing the truest test of love, he was allowing his betrothal to alter any future he could have with Isabella and he was bending to other's possible objections to that future. His aunt was the remover, the tempest, and how could he let her or anyone else alter what they had? His love for Isabella was just as Shakespeare wrote – fixed. From the moment he beheld her she captured his interest and every day he grew to like her more. He could not tell the exact moment he fell in love with her, he was in the middle before he knew it started! I have to get her back he thought instantly before closing the book and placing it on her dressing table.

His mind worked as he left her bedroom and hurried down the corridors followed by the grand staircase. As he bounded down the final steps he spotted his butler Alfred and moved toward him "Alfred, have you any idea where Miss Bradford has gone?" he asked, his tone sounding desperate. As the question left his lips he then noted that Alfred's face took on an expression that was very similar to Mrs Carter's earlier countenance. Fidgeting with his jacket cuffs, Alfted replied "I believe she has gone to visit her mother your grace, she left quite early this morning..." he paused then taking in Alexander's veiled expression and continued uneasily "I arranged for one of the carriages to take her... Mr Beasley offered to accompany her". Gulping he looked into Alexander's stormy eyes and waited nervously for his master's reply. "Hmm did he? That was very valiant of Mr Beasley I must say" he responded, his words laced with sarcasm "And when pray tell, did she say she would return?" he asked becoming anxious. "Ah...she didn't your grace...Mrs Carter did comment that she had quite a lot of luggage with her though" he replied before noticing how Alexander's eyes narrowed when he mentioned Mrs Carter. "Ah so it seems everyone already knows of her parting, except for me" he spoke before raising his hand to stifle Alfred's likely reply "And yes I know I was incapacitated for much of the morning... it seems she used that time to make her exit" he spoke saying those last words more to himself than to Alfred.

He turned on his heel then, intending to seek out Mrs Carter and ask her why she had lied to him earlier. It was looking like she may be Isabella's conspirator in the matter, and if so, she likely also knew where Isabella was gone to. He was quite sure that Isabella had said her mother now resided in Bath, but he needed to be sure before making the journey. He had taken just a couple of steps when Alfred called "Wait your grace, some post came for you this morning. I left it in your study and I believe one of the letters is from your cousin Lord Acton" On hearing that information Alexander paused in his stride. His cousin John rarely wrote to him, thus he likely had some important news to impart. Deciding to take a quick visit to his study first, he nodded to Alfred in reply and walked toward his study.

On entering he moved toward his desk and sorted through the stack of letters that sat there. Most pertained to business matters or parliament affairs, so he left them aside for now deciding to seek out his cousin's letter. He quickly spotted the letter with the Aldenham coat of arms stamped in wax on the front, and tore it open to read the correspondence. His eyes scanned the letter and his heart suddenly soared as he read his cousins words. Closing the letter reverently he placed it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "There is hope..." he whispered to himself then, his mind briskly changing his plans for the day. However, as his mind assimilated the information he had just read and reasoned the the best course of action, another letter caught his eye. It was removed from the others and left to one side of his desk. Picking it up, he noticed his name written in distinctively feminine handwriting. Before he even opened it, he instinctively knew- it was from Isabella.