Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord (29 page)

He was straight and still, entirely composed. She had never seen him this way, so unmoving. It was as though he were a different person from the man whom she had come to know over the past few days.

As though he had been lying to her.

Which, of course, he had.

She looked away, unwilling to show him how much his betrayal had smarted.

He saw, nonetheless. With a sigh, he spoke, his words softer, more cajoling than before. “Isabel. Let me explain. It is not how it appears.”

“It appears that you were searching for us from the very beginning.”

He paused. “That is correct, although not for you. Not for any of you but Georgiana.” “Georgiana is one of us!“

“Georgiana is the sister of the Duke of Leighton, Isabel. Did you really think you could hide her away forever? ”

“No! I—” She stopped, uncertain of her words. “I simply did not expect
you
to come looking for her.”

“I am rarely what people expect.”

“Yes. I’m beginning to see that.” She looked to the ceiling, frustration coursing through her. “It is my fault. I made it all easier by asking you to value the marbles.”

“If it had not been the marbles, it would have been something else that brought me here.”

“Maybe not.”

“Isabel.” The way he said her name captured her attention. “I am very good at what I do.”

“And what is it that you do, Nick? Because it seems to me that what you are very good at is convincing women to tell you their secrets with your charming smile and your pretty lies and seductions and proposals of marriage—that was a particularly impressive way of gaining my trust, by the way—and then you betray them for your own gain.”

“It was not a lie. It was all true.” His whisper was tempting, so lovely and soft, with that hint of honesty that she had found so warm and welcoming. Well, now she knew better.

She closed her eyes. The conversation was growing exhausting. “Please, Nick. Don’t you think you have done enough to us? Enough to me?”

“You do not understand!“

“What is there to understand?” she cried. “How many times did you ask me to trust you? How many times did you tell me I was wrong to doubt you? How often did you offer me your protection? To James? To the girls?”

“And here I am! The offer still stands!“

“Just go away. You have the information you came for. But tell the Duke of Leighton that he had better bring an army when he comes for Georgiana. For if she does not want to leave, I shall protect her with everything I have.”

“And I shall be beside you.”

“Stop it!” His words broke her. “You think you can convince me to forget what has happened? You betrayed us! You betrayed
me.
The things I told you—” She stopped, then took a deep breath. “You cannot honestly believe that I would place this house, these lives, in your hands after what you’ve done. Not when I know that your allegiance can be sold like cattle to the highest bidder.”

The words fell like lead between them, and she knew immediately that she had gone too far. He could no longer remain still. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close to him, forcing her to look into his eyes. “No. I will suffer your accusations. I will bear the brunt of your anger. But I am through with your assault on my honor.”

She opened her mouth to retort and he pressed on. “No, Isabel. You will listen to me. I came to help the girl. Not to hurt her. Had I known that she was here and safe, I would not have agreed to the mission. But I did not know those things. Instead, I knew that my friend was beside himself with worry. And I did what I could to help him. Yes. I found your little enclave of Amazonians. Yes. I discovered your secrets—not that they were very well hidden. But none of this is Leighton’s business. Leighton’s business is that girl”—he let go of Isabel’s arm to indicate Georgiana beyond the room—“and the child in her belly. You know nothing of who I am or why I am here. I was never going to give you up. I gave you my word that I would protect you. That I would keep your secrets. And so I shall.”

Isabel did not know what to say as he let her go and stalked to the door. As he set his hand to the handle, she found her voice. “How did you know? ”

Only his head turned back to her, and not enough to meet her eyes. His tone was clipped. “How did I know what? ”

“How did you know that Georgiana is increasing? ”

There was impatience in his tone when he replied. “I have said before, Isabel. I am very good at what I do.”

The words rankled. “As am I!“

“Yes. You are very good at hiding.”

“I am very good at hiding them,” she corrected.

He did turn back then, his lips twisted in a smile that she did not like. “You do it for them.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think so.”

She blinked. “Of course I do.”

“No. I don’t think you do it for them at all, Isabel. I think you do it to keep yourself in hiding. To keep yourself from having to face the world beyond your little kingdom. And what might come with it.”

She froze at the words.

They weren’t true.

They
weren’t.

He waited for a long moment, as though expecting her to reply, before adding, “I will be gone in the morning. I find I am tiring of Yorkshire.”

And, with that last parting shot, he left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Once he was gone, Isabel crawled onto her bed, exhausted from the verbal sparring and confused by the feelings coursing through her. He had seemed so honest—so true—so hurt.

But what of her?

How lovely had it been when they were rushing off to rescue Georgiana to have this strong, committed man by her side? How much had she adored the feeling of having a partner? Of being able to finally, after all these years, share her burden with another person? What of the comfort she had felt then, for the first time in so very long?

And what of the emptiness that came when he’d snatched it from her?

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was afraid.

She rolled onto one side, refusing to allow the thought quarter.

She must remain angry.

Because she did not think she could face the darkness if she allowed herself to think on the sadness that she could so easily summon.

Nick could not sleep, and so he headed for the stables, forcing himself into some kind of perverse penance for his betrayal of Isabel. He paced the floor, keeping the horses awake as he replayed the past days in his mind, thinking of all the ways he could have told Isabel the truth. Of all the times he could have confessed his part in this bizarre play.

But he hadn’t—and, instead, he’d lost her.

And, all of a sudden, that mattered more than anything else.

The irony of the situation was not lost on him. He had agreed to Leighton’s ridiculous mission because he had been so desperate to leave London and the silly magazine article behind. He’d been avoiding the mincing females who were immediately drawn to him for all the wrong reasons. He’d been eager to escape them and the drama that came with them.

And he’d landed here. In a houseful of females, so rife with drama that they spent most of their lives in disguise, hiding from kidnappers and dukes and God knew whoever else was determined to find them at any cost.

If it weren’t his life, it would be comical.

And at the center of their circus was Isabel—powerful, intelligent, strong-willed Isabel, his Boadicea. Beautiful, passionate Isabel, unlike any woman he had ever known.

There was so much about this woman to admire. To care for. To desire.

To love.

He froze at the thought.

Was it possible that he loved her?

Dread settled in his stomach at the thought. For so long, he had avoided love—a thing that was perfectly fine for others, but entirely wrong for him. He’d seen the way women wielded love as a weapon. He’d watched as his mother had destroyed his father. And, worse, he knew what became of him when he allowed himself to attempt to love. The way Alana had turned the emotion against him and, like a master puppeteer, maneuvered him through the deserts of Turkey and straight into prison.

If his past had taught him anything, it was this: If he allowed himself to love Isabel, there was no way it could end well.

He could take his escape. Here was his opportunity to leave her—and the insanity that came with her—behind. He could return to his normal, staid London life, to his antiquities and his club and his family, and forget the days he had spent here in Yorkshire.

Except, when he considered that life, which had so satisfied him before he’d arrived here, he found it sorely lacking. Lacking in Isabel’s strong will, and her smart mouth, and her sweet lips, and her wild, auburn curls that clung to him whenever she was near.

He wanted her.

He turned toward the door of the stables and, for a fleeting moment, considered the lateness of the hour. He hovered there on the brink of movement, considering his options.

He should leave her.

Perhaps she had found sleep.

A vision flashed of Isabel soft and willing, eyes half open, watching him, welcoming him … and it proved too much to resist.

He wanted her.

And if he had to wake her to win her, all the better.

She was sleeping when he crept into her room, still in breeches and a linen shirt. She had not put out the candles after he had left, and several had burned out, leaving nothing but a pool of wax. Two remained burning, one by the door and the other by her bedside, casting her sleeping form in a pool of soft light.

He closed the door, knowing that he was committing the very worst of sins, entering her bedchamber without her knowledge or consent, but it did not stop him from slinking close to watch as she slumbered.

She was curved into a near ball, lying on one side, facing the door and the light. Her hands were fisted beneath her chin and her knees were pulled up tightly, as though she could protect herself from the beasts that threatened in the dead of night.

Beasts like him.

He resisted the words, instead focusing on her face, looking his fill at this woman who had wreaked havoc upon his life. She was beautiful, her full lips and long, straight nose combined with high cheekbones dusted with freckles. He paused there, marveling at those tiny brown spots that betrayed her time working in the sunshine—yet another example of how this woman was so very different from all others.

His gaze caressed her face, finally settling on her brow, where worry furrowed the space above her nose even as she slept. Nick felt a tightening in his chest as he watched the dimple there deepen; he had done this to her. He could not resist reaching out, smoothing one long finger softly along the wrinkle, willing it away.

The touch was enough to bring her out of her too-light sleep, and she came awake with a deep breath, her limbs extending as consciousness returned. He took a fleeting moment to remember her like this—warm and lush and barely aware of her surroundings.

Someday, he would kiss her awake and keep her abed for hours.

The thought did not have time to linger.

When she saw him, sleep gave way to surprise, then to outrage. She shot straight up. “Why are you here?” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and Nick resisted the instinct to put distance between them, somehow knowing that if she stood, he would lose any ground in this battle.

She immediately understood what he was doing. Her eyes narrowed. “Let me up.”

“No. Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

“You have already said quite enough, Lord Nicholas.”

The sound of the honorific on her lips sent a river of distaste through him. Somehow, he had to convince her to hear him. He had to convince her that he was worth it. Desperation surged, and he did what came instinctively, crouching in front of her and capturing her hands in his.

She immediately tried to extricate herself from his grasp, but he held firm and after a few seconds, she gave in.

“I have not said that I am sorry.” She did not respond, and his lips twisted in a wry smile. “If you knew me better, you would know that I do not apologize well.”

“Well, perhaps it is time you learn,” she said, simply.

“I never meant to hurt you, Isabel. Had I known what I would find when I came north, I would never have agreed to Leighton’s request.” He stopped for a moment, looking down at where their hands were entwined. “That is a lie. Had I known that I would find you when I came north, I would have come years ago.”

Her jaw dropped, and he gave her a lopsided grin. “I see I have rendered you speechless. You see, Isabel, you are something of a marvel. I have met many women in my lifetime, all across the globe. And yet, I have never met a woman so strong, so vibrant, so lovely as you. And you must believe me when I tell you that I would
never
do anything to hurt you.”

“But you did hurt me.”

The words, filled with pain and barely a whisper, propelled him forward, and he lifted her hands to his lips, kissing them with reverence. “I know that I did. And you’ve every right to hate me for it.”