CHAPTER17
As the car rolled up to the grand gates of Thornfield Manor, Isla barely had time to step out before Maggie stormed toward her, the older woman’s face a mixture of anger and heartbreak. The gates stood flung wide open, and Maggie’s tear-streaked cheeks glistened under the pale winter sunlight as she hurried across the gravel driveway.
“You called me your mother-like figure for half your life,” Maggie cried, her voice cracking with emotion, “and then left me here without so much as a word!” Her anger melted into grief as she pulled Isla into a fierce embrace. “I can’t believe you just disappeared like that. I thought you were dead, Isla!” she wept, clutching the girl as if she might vanish again. “I prayed every night for the Lord to bring you home. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again, if you were even alive!”
Isla stood stiffly in Maggie’s arms, her face flushed with embarrassment, unsure how to respond to the older woman’s heartfelt outburst. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“Maggie,” Graham interjected, stepping forward with a calm but firm tone, “let her breathe. Isla’s been through enough already. She needs to eat something and rest this afternoon. You can give her an earful later.”
Maggie turned her tear-streaked face toward him, her arms still wrapped protectively around Isla. “You mean she’s not going to run off again if I take my eyes off her?” she demanded, her voice tinged with both skepticism and a motherly protectiveness that couldn’t be shaken.
Graham’s gaze flicked briefly to Isla before returning to Maggie. He had plenty of ways to handle this situation, but he chose the one that would drive his point home to Isla. His voice softened but held an unmistakable weight. “This is her home,” he said simply, his words deliberate. “It’s always been her home. All she needs to do is open her eyes and see it—accept it.”
The air around them seemed to freeze. Isla, who had been blushing furiously from Maggie’s emotional scolding, now felt the heat drain from her face. Her skin turned cold, and her stomach twisted into a knot. She didn’t need to look at Graham to know what he was implying.
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. He wasn’t just talking about the manor. He was alluding to his marriage proposal, the one she’d refused to acknowledge since their earlier conversation. His message was clear: Thornfield Manor would truly be her home, but only if she accepted what he was offering—him.
Her fingers clenched the strap of her handbag as a wave of conflicting emotions swept over her. Embarrassment, anger, and a trace of sadness swirled inside her. She hated how easily Graham managed to slip his agenda into even the most mundane conversations. The way he made his offer seem like a natural conclusion—as if she’d be foolish to reject it—infuriated her.
Maggie, oblivious to the undertones of Graham’s comment, finally released Isla, though not without a stern look. “You go inside and rest, young lady,” she said, wiping her eyes. “But don’t think this is over. I’ve got plenty to say to you later.”
Isla nodded mutely, avoiding Graham’s gaze as she turned toward the manor. Her steps were quick, but the weight of his words followed her, heavy as a chain around her neck.
Graham watched her retreating figure, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t missed the way her shoulders tensed at his comment or how she avoided meeting his eyes. He wasn’t sure if his message had sunk in—or if it had only driven her further away.
Home. Isla doubted she’d ever be able to call Thornfield Manor her home again. The warmth and laughter that had once filled its grand halls were gone, along with the family who had given it life. Now, it felt like an elegant mausoleum—beautiful but empty.
Sure, Maggie and Edwin were still here, and she cared for them deeply. In many ways, they were the closest thing to family she had left. But even they couldn’t bridge the chasm that had formed in her heart. Thornfield wasn’t theirs, and it didn’t feel like hers either.
And Graham? He had clearly sensed her longing for something—someone—to fill the void. His marriage proposal was proof enough of that. On paper, it was the perfect solution: a husband, a family, a place to belong again. But in reality, the idea made her chest tighten with equal parts anxiety and frustration.
Graham Lancaster as her husband? The thought was almost laughable. Yes, she was drawn to him—how could she not be? His commanding presence, the way his deep voice seemed to wrap around her like velvet, the way his eyes seemed to burn into her soul as if he could see every thought she tried to hide… It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. And she had felt that pull for years, even when she had been too young to understand it.
But attraction wasn’t enough. Not when Graham was so infuriatingly arrogant, so confident in his ability to control everything and everyone around him. Isla knew that if she said yes to his proposal, she would be handing over her freedom. He would keep her under his thumb, deciding her every move. That was the kind of man he was—a man who thrived on power, on control.
A flicker of bitterness tugged at her lips. Deep down, she couldn’t shake the suspicion that his proposal wasn’t about love or even companionship. It was about possession. Graham didn’t just want her in his house; he wanted her in his life, tethered to him by a ring on her finger and vows she couldn’t escape.
And then there were the other women. Graham’s reputation preceded him—a trail of stunning, sophisticated women, each more glamorous than the last. Isla couldn’t remember ever seeing him with the same woman twice. They were the kind of women who looked like they belonged in glossy magazines, their beauty sharp enough to cut glass, their confidence undeniable.
How could she ever compare? A nineteen-year-old girl, awkward and untouched by experience, standing in the shadow of women who had likely seen and done it all. How could someone like her possibly hold his attention?
Her chest tightened as an unwelcome thought crept in. She wasn’t even considering his proposal… was she? Isla shook her head, trying to banish the idea. But the question lingered, stubborn and persistent.
What if she said yes? What if she accepted?
Her imagination betrayed her, spinning images that made her pulse race. Graham wouldn’t waste any time—she knew that much. He would seduce her with the same ease he used to command a room. His touch would be deliberate, confident, setting her skin on fire with every brush of his fingers. He would whisper things in her ear, his voice low and smoky, words that would make her knees weak and her resolve crumble.
She gulped down water from the jug on her nightstand, trying to cool the heat rising in her body. He would ravish her. That much was certain. He would make her crave him, make her body ache for his, and when he finally had her—completely, utterly—he would move on.
The thought sent a cold shiver through her, snuffing out the warmth that had built in her chest. Isla could see it so clearly: him walking away, leaving her behind like a broken doll, discarded and forgotten. She wasn’t like the women who came before her. They could brush off his rejection, move on with their lives.
But her? She was already too attached—to the house, to him. If she let him in, if she gave him the power to destroy her, she wasn’t sure she would survive it.
Another image flashed in her mind, unbidden and maddeningly vivid: tangled sheets, his lips on her skin, his body pressed against hers, consuming her in ways she couldn’t even imagine. The heat of it made her cheeks burn, but it was quickly overshadowed by fear.
No. She shook her head, pushing the thought away. She couldn’t do this. Whatever Graham’s reasons—whatever underhanded motive lay behind his proposal—she couldn’t say yes. She had already lost too much. Her parents, her stepfather… every loss had carved another piece out of her heart.
She couldn’t afford to get a husband, when it was a certainty that she was going to lose him too..
The steady tap, tap, tap of Graham’s pen against the polished mahogany desk echoed through the quiet study, a rhythmic betrayal of his growing frustration. The conference call droned on, voices filtering through the speaker as his team debated yet another detail of the delayed mega-market project. Normally, he’d be in the thick of it, commanding the discussion, steering decisions with a precise, calculated authority. Instead, he was here—stuck in the middle of nowhere, on a sprawling ranch in Georgia, hundreds of miles from the pulsating energy of New York City.
He couldn’t bear it. The stillness of this place grated on his nerves. Out here, there was no sharp click of heels on marble floors, no hum of high-powered engines or distant wail of sirens. Just the endless expanse of green fields stretching out from the large bay window before him, dotted with the occasional cluster of trees.
Christmas was around the corner, and his to-do list was a mile long. Deals needed closing, meetings needed leading, and the project—his project—was at a standstill because some decisions simply couldn’t be made without him. And yet here he was, marooned in Willow Creek, while life back in the city continued without him.
Graham pushed back from the desk, rising to his feet. He stalked to the window, hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, his piercing gaze fixed on the horizon. But he wasn’t really seeing the landscape. His mind was consumed by a singular thought, one that had taken root the moment she’d walked back into his life. Isla.
He couldn’t leave. That much he knew. The last time he’d turned his back, she’d vanished without a trace, leaving nothing behind but an empty room and a hollowness in his chest he still couldn’t quite name. The fear of her disappearing again—of never finding her this time—kept him tethered to this place, no matter how much he hated it.
But this arrangement wasn’t sustainable. He couldn’t live like this, balancing the weight of his empire on one hand while keeping constant watch over Isla with the other. No, he needed a solution. A way to anchor her to him permanently.
The answer was obvious, even if she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see it yet. Marriage.
It was the only way to ensure she stayed. The only way he could breathe easy, knowing she wouldn’t slip away in the night and leave him haunted by the memory of her absence. But what if she said no?
That question gnawed at him, a rare and unwelcome vulnerability. Graham Lancaster didn’t fail. He didn’t lose. And yet, the possibility of Isla rejecting him loomed large, a threat he couldn’t shake.
His jaw tightened, and then another thought struck him—a solution, simple and foolproof. If she wouldn’t stay here willingly, he would take her with him. Wherever he went, she would go too.
The idea brought a small, satisfied smile to his lips. It was perfect. No more sleepless nights wondering if she’d bolt. No more irrational fear of losing her forever. If she was always by his side, he could keep her safe, keep her close.
The fear—that gut-wrenching panic he’d felt when she disappeared—was something he had never experienced before. Not for anyone, not for anything. Graham prided himself on his control, on his ability to remain detached and pragmatic. But Isla shattered all of that. For her, he felt something raw, something dangerously close to need.
But it wasn’t need. Of course not. It was responsibility. That’s all it was.
He repeated the thought like a mantra. He felt responsible for her, that’s why he was so protective. That’s why he couldn’t relax, even with her in the next room at the hotel. It was his responsible nature that made him decide to keep her close.
So close, in fact, that he wouldn’t just bring her wherever he went—he’d keep her in his bed at night, too. For peace of mind. For her safety.
Yes, that was it. It wasn’t attachment. It wasn’t anything more than duty. Just responsibility.
The smile on his face widened, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He would convince her. One way or another, Isla would stay, and Graham would finally regain the control that had been slipping through his fingers ever since she came back into his life.