Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord (7 page)

He leaned close. “You may thank me another time.”

Isabel did not like the way the low, dark promise in his voice made her stomach tumble.

Before she could reply, he had turned to greet his friend and take the reins of the large gray horse. Turning back, he said, “Lady Isabel, may I introduce my friend and companion, Durukhan?”

The man was immense up close, nearly as tall as the black stallion that stood at his shoulder. Isabel offered her hand, and he executed a perfect bow.

“Mr. Durukhan,” she said. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

He straightened, his curiosity evident. “The pleasure is entirely mine.”

Looking into the man’s dark eyes, she felt compelled to explain. “Lord Nicholas—he was gracious enough to—push me out of the way of”—she waved one hand in the direction of the long disappeared cart—“some horses.”

“Was he?” A look passed between the two men that she could not read.

It was gone in a flash as St. John changed the subject. “Lady Isabel has invited us to visit her collection of antiquities, Rock.”

“Ah,” Rock said, considering Isabel. “Are we leaving now?”

Isabel’s heart began to pound as she imagined these two men arriving unexpectedly on the steps of Minerva House. “No!” she said, far too loudly.

The men looked to each other, then to her. Isabel gave a nervous laugh. “I have much to do here in town. And much to do at home. And the collection is not ready for you. After all, I did not expect you to be here. You were a sign, remember?”

Shut up, Isabel. You sound like a ninny.

He gave a small smile that made her stomach flip in a not altogether unpleasant way. “And you were not prepared for a sign.”

“Precisely!” She paused. “At any rate, I am certain you understand.”

St. John nodded. “Indeed. You have much to do.”

“Quite.” She ignored the amused gleam in his eyes, patting at her hair nervously before looking about for her bonnet. It had settled several yards away after flying from her grasp during their collision. She strode toward it—as well as one could stride with a throbbing ankle—and retrieved it, turning back to the two men who were staring after her.

If she weren’t so uneasy, she would have been amused by their dumbfounded looks.

Instead, she backed away from the two imposing men, “So you see, Lord Nicholas, I cannot begin to show you the antiquities now … but tomorrow … tomorrow sounds fine. In the afternoon? Three o’clock?”

He dipped his head in assent. “Tomorrow it is.”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” she repeated.

“Fair enough.”

“Excellent. I shall—look forward to it.” With a too-bright smile and a too-eager nod, Isabel turned and hurried away, leaving the pair behind.

After a few long moments, Rock turned to Nick, who was still staring after her. “We are not waiting until tomorrow, are we? ”

Nick shook his head. “No.”

“She is hiding something.”

Nick gave a single curt nod. “And not very well.” He watched her, noting the slight limp in her gait as she rushed across the street and into a nearby building.

“It has been years since I’ve seen that.”

Nick did not shift his attention from Isabel. “Seen what? ”

“The face of the
bulan.”

Several long moments passed before Nick turned to Rock.

“A hundred pounds says we’ve found her.”

Rock shook his head. “I’m not taking that bet.”

There was a quiet stillness to the house that Nick found intriguing—it was either the product of a sleepy country house that rarely saw visitors, or something not at all sleepy and infinitely more interesting. If the mistress of Townsend Park was any indication, Nick’s wager was on the latter option. If his suspicions were correct, he was about to find both the women for whom he was looking.

That is, assuming that he was ever allowed inside the house.

He and Rock had been standing at the foot of the steps leading up to the manor, reins in hand, waiting for a groomsman or a footman to acknowledge their arrival for several minutes.

At this point, neither seemed very likely.

“You realize that we look like fools.” Rock said dryly, leading his horse to the edge of the drive, where he could lean against the side of the wide stone steps to the door of the house. The black seemed to sense his master’s disapproval, pawing at the ground once with an impatient snort.

“We cannot look like fools if we do not have an audience to label us as such. She did not want us here today. She likely doesn’t have servants posted.”

Rock leveled Nick with a frank look. “I see that your insistence upon saving women who are capable of taking care of themselves remains fully intact.”

Nick ignored the words, tossing his reins to the Turk and starting up the stairs, two steps at a time.

Rock followed his movements, curiosity getting the better of him. “What do you mean to do?”

Nick turned from his position in front of the wide oak door with a wry smile. “Why, I mean to do what any good gentleman would do in this situation. I mean to knock.”

Rock crossed his arms over his chest. “This should be entertaining, if nothing else.”

Nick raised the large metal doorknocker and let it fall with an ominous clang, trying to recall the last time he had used a doorknocker.

Before he could entertain the question, however, the door opened. For a very brief moment Nick thought it had done so on its own, until he looked down into a pair of familiar brown eyes, set in the face of a young boy. A young boy with a face covered in what looked suspiciously like strawberry jam.

Nick was not entirely certain how to proceed under such circumstances, but, before he could say anything at all, the child took matters into his own hands.

The door slammed shut as quickly as it had opened.

“THERE’S A MAN AT THE DOOR!”

The screech was loud enough to carry clearly through the thick oak, and Nick, surprised, turned to look back at Rock to confirm that it had all taken place as he thought.

His friend was quaking with deep, rumbling laughter.

“I see you are going to be a great help.”

With a final chuckle, Rock raised one hand in solidarity. “I assure you, once you have breached the castle defenses, I shall throw my full support behind you.”

Nick turned back to the door and, after a long moment of consideration, pressed his ear to the oak, as though he might be able to hear what was going on behind it. Rock let out a bark of laughter at the action, and Nick waved him silent, almost positive that he could hear frenzied whispers coming from inside the house.

Stepping back, he reached once more for the knocker, but was interrupted before he could use it. “Milord?”

He turned to find a tall, lanky boy in wool breeches, white shirtsleeves, and a dirty green waistcoat turning the corner from the side of the house. The boy wore a cap low on his brow, and Nick had a brief moment of questioning why the servant had not removed the hat before he realized that nothing about this estate seemed to operate normally.

“We are here at the invitation of Lady Isabel.”

The boy had reached the foot of the steps, and he paused. “Weren’t you supposed to come tomorrow?”

Ignoring the insolent behavior—when had he ever been questioned by a servant?—Nick replied, “We are here now.”

“You won’t find her inside.”

“Is she not at home?”

The boy leaned back on his heels, considering his words. “She is at home … but not inside.”

Nick began to feel his temper fray. “Boy, I am not interested in playing games. Is your lady in? Or not?”

The servant smiled then, a wide grin that seemed entirely unservantlike. “She is not in. She is out. On top of, more like.” The boy pointed up. “She is on the roof.”

“She is on the roof.” Surely Nick had misunderstood.

“Just so,” the groom said. “Shall I call her?”

The question was so bizarre that it took Nick several seconds to process its meaning.

Not so Rock. Unable to contain his own wide smile, the Turk said, “Yes, please. We should very much like you to call her.”

The boy stepped back to the opposite edge of the drive, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called, “Lady Isabel! You have visitors!”

Nick stepped back from the house himself then, Rock at his side, horses in tow. He stared upward, uncertain of what might come next, unwilling to accept the possibility that the lady he had met earlier in the day would have any reason to be on the roof of her ancestral home, three stories above the ground.

Far above, a head poked over the edge of the house.

It seemed Lady Isabel was, indeed, on the roof.

Dear God. The woman had a death wish.

The head disappeared for a moment, and Nick wondered if perhaps he was hallucinating. When it reappeared, he found himself disappointed that the whole afternoon was not a figment of his imagination.

“You were not supposed to arrive until tomorrow.” The words carried down to him. “I am not receiving.”

Rock gave a little bark of laughter and offered, “It appears we have found a woman who does not consider you so irresistible.”

Nick cast a sidelong glance in the direction of his friend. “You are not helping.” Turning resolutely away from Rock, he called up, “It seems a good thing I came today, Lady Isabel. It appears you may need saving again.”

The smile she offered was angelic—and entirely false. “I have survived twenty-four years without a keeper, my lord. I need not acquire one today.”

He had an intense desire to fetch the infuriating woman down and show her precisely how dire her need for a keeper was. The thought had barely formed in his mind before it was chased away by a vision of the soft, beautiful woman in his arms that afternoon—entirely at his mercy. For a fleeting moment, he allowed the fantasy to run its natural course; she was lush and naked at his whim.

He pushed the image away. There was nothing about this woman that was at his whim.

“Considering you were nearly run down this morning and you are dangerously close to toppling off your roof now, forgive me if I do not share your certainty.”

“I was nowhere near the edge before you arrived, Lord Nicholas. Should I fall, it will be entirely on your head.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “Perhaps quite literally.”

She disappeared again, and the groom actually
snickered.
Nick gave him a look of lordly disdain, which in no way served to intimidate the insolent pup.

Rock laughed again, tossing the reins of both horses to the boy. “You might as well take them. I think we might be here for a while.”

The servant did not move, too fascinated by the unfolding scene to leave.

Nick turned a scowl on his friend. “The woman would try the patience of a saint. Do you think that she has forgotten that it was
she
who invited
me
to the damned house? ”

She peeked her head over the edge of the house once more. “You would do well to remember that sound carries
up,
my lord. Language, please.”

“My apologies.” He offered an exaggerated bow. “I am not used to conversing with ladies on roofs. The rules of etiquette for the situation have escaped me.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “Even from three stories up, I can tell that you are being facetious.”

He ignored that. “Perhaps you would like to tell us why you are on your roof? ”

“I am learning,” she said, as though it were a perfectly normal response.

“Learning to nearly kill yourself again?”

“How many times am I going to have to tell you that I did not nearly kill myself!”

“I stand corrected. Again. What are you learning?”

“The fundamentals of roof repair. Fascinating, really.” She smiled again; this time, she meant it.

He sucked in a breath. Would he ever grow used to her smiles?

Roof repair?

“I beg your pardon, did you say you are repairing the roof?”

“Well, it certainly will not repair itself, my lord.”

Lovely or not, she was mad.
It was the only answer.

He looked to Rock, who was smiling like a buffoon. “She has a point, Nick.”

And her madness was clearly infectious.

“Lady Isabel, I must insist that you come down.” She watched him for a long moment, as though assessing the likelihood of his leaving the estate if she remained roofbound. “I should very like to see your marbles, and will be happy to value them. I should think you would find my offer generous enough to accept? ”

She looked to Rock, then to the stable boy, before heaving an impressive sigh. “Very well. I shall come down.”

Nick could not help the wave of triumph that coursed through him at the words. He had restored normalcy to this tiny corner of Britain.

At least for as long as it would take her to concoct her next mad scheme.