treason, she would have grown up with morning gowns and soirées until she wed a charming young man and was set free in the world to raise a family of her own.
Isabel snorted. Right. Or she'd have ended up wed to an ogre and made to attend all the social functions while the nanny raised her children.
With a push, Isabel made her way through the door of the inn and began the walk down the path.
Her father wouldn't have married her off to a monster. He'd have made sure she was taken care of.
Memories of her father teaching her to dance flitted through her mind.
Lost in her world of memories, Isabel didn't at first realize somebody was whispering her name. Sort of.
"Iola. Iola!"
The whisper distorted the voice until she couldn't tell whether it came from friend or foe. Producing a knife from the folds of her skirt, she stepped off the path. As she rounded a rock, she found Owen leaning against the other side, a lit cheroot in his hand.
"I didn't know you smoked."
He snuffed it out. "I don't, but it's an easy way to draw attention after dark if a person wishes to be so noticed. Until tonight, that is. You didn't see me."
Isabel shook her head. "My mind was elsewhere."
"It's a good thing I'm on your side. No matter how easy a job may seem, you can't ever let your guard down. Even when you think you've dispatched the last villain on earth, danger will continue to lurk around every turn in the path."
She frowned at him. "You're awfully glum." She stepped closer and shook her finger at him. "I'm angry at you for leaving."
He nodded and held out his arm. "I think our abandoned little shed is still standing. Shall we go have a conversation?"
Isabel wanted to scold him for leaving such a vague note. Nay. She wanted to hurt him for making her feel abandoned, something to which she did not take kindly. She tried to let it go. Owen had no way of knowing she lived in constant fear of losing the people she loved.
Loved? No, no. She didn't love him… did she?
Isabel sighed and took his arm. The truth was, she'd been a little bit in love with Owen Loring since she'd been a small child. Now that he was all grown up, with his windswept curls and thoughtful smile, she found him even harder to resist.
****
They shared no conversation as they made the trek toward the shed. Once there, Owen shook out the rug before placing it back on the crate for Isabel.
She sat down, her melancholy from earlier still tugging at her. The sinking feeling in her soul told her Owen had nothing good to say.
Owen's voice rumbled in the dim moonlight. "Are you familiar with Chakal Manor?"
Someone many years ago had mentioned that name to her. "Somewhat."
The dark made Owen's eyes a mystery, but she saw him nod. "I have two messages for you, but the first won't make sense unless you're familiar with the place."
She waited.
Owen let out a heartfelt sigh. "I'm supposed to tell you about the pigeon."
Isabel sucked in a surprised breath. Pigeon? There had only ever been one pigeon. Did Owen know about…? She took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice normal. "What about Pigeon?"
Owen tilted his head to the side and examined her. "The message is this: The pigeon hides at Chakal Manor ."
Of its own volition, Isabel's hand lifted to her mouth, two of her fingers resting against her bottom lip. "Truly?"
He nodded. "Will you tell me what that means?"
She shook her head. "No. What of the other message?"
Owen pulled a folded piece of paper from the inside of his jacket and held it out to her. "A friend asked me to give this to you."
A single glance told Isabel she didn't recognize the handwriting, not that it would have been easy with only the letter Q on the front. She flipped it over and examined the back. The seal was made of plain red wax, but the imprint was of an intricately woven letter, a J . She'd seen that emblem once, also many years before.
Isabel tucked the note into her skirt pocket before resting her hands in her lap.
"Don't you
Isabel snorted. Right. Or she'd have ended up wed to an ogre and made to attend all the social functions while the nanny raised her children.
With a push, Isabel made her way through the door of the inn and began the walk down the path.
Her father wouldn't have married her off to a monster. He'd have made sure she was taken care of.
Memories of her father teaching her to dance flitted through her mind.
Lost in her world of memories, Isabel didn't at first realize somebody was whispering her name. Sort of.
"Iola. Iola!"
The whisper distorted the voice until she couldn't tell whether it came from friend or foe. Producing a knife from the folds of her skirt, she stepped off the path. As she rounded a rock, she found Owen leaning against the other side, a lit cheroot in his hand.
"I didn't know you smoked."
He snuffed it out. "I don't, but it's an easy way to draw attention after dark if a person wishes to be so noticed. Until tonight, that is. You didn't see me."
Isabel shook her head. "My mind was elsewhere."
"It's a good thing I'm on your side. No matter how easy a job may seem, you can't ever let your guard down. Even when you think you've dispatched the last villain on earth, danger will continue to lurk around every turn in the path."
She frowned at him. "You're awfully glum." She stepped closer and shook her finger at him. "I'm angry at you for leaving."
He nodded and held out his arm. "I think our abandoned little shed is still standing. Shall we go have a conversation?"
Isabel wanted to scold him for leaving such a vague note. Nay. She wanted to hurt him for making her feel abandoned, something to which she did not take kindly. She tried to let it go. Owen had no way of knowing she lived in constant fear of losing the people she loved.
Loved? No, no. She didn't love him… did she?
Isabel sighed and took his arm. The truth was, she'd been a little bit in love with Owen Loring since she'd been a small child. Now that he was all grown up, with his windswept curls and thoughtful smile, she found him even harder to resist.
****
They shared no conversation as they made the trek toward the shed. Once there, Owen shook out the rug before placing it back on the crate for Isabel.
She sat down, her melancholy from earlier still tugging at her. The sinking feeling in her soul told her Owen had nothing good to say.
Owen's voice rumbled in the dim moonlight. "Are you familiar with Chakal Manor?"
Someone many years ago had mentioned that name to her. "Somewhat."
The dark made Owen's eyes a mystery, but she saw him nod. "I have two messages for you, but the first won't make sense unless you're familiar with the place."
She waited.
Owen let out a heartfelt sigh. "I'm supposed to tell you about the pigeon."
Isabel sucked in a surprised breath. Pigeon? There had only ever been one pigeon. Did Owen know about…? She took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice normal. "What about Pigeon?"
Owen tilted his head to the side and examined her. "The message is this: The pigeon hides at Chakal Manor ."
Of its own volition, Isabel's hand lifted to her mouth, two of her fingers resting against her bottom lip. "Truly?"
He nodded. "Will you tell me what that means?"
She shook her head. "No. What of the other message?"
Owen pulled a folded piece of paper from the inside of his jacket and held it out to her. "A friend asked me to give this to you."
A single glance told Isabel she didn't recognize the handwriting, not that it would have been easy with only the letter Q on the front. She flipped it over and examined the back. The seal was made of plain red wax, but the imprint was of an intricately woven letter, a J . She'd seen that emblem once, also many years before.
Isabel tucked the note into her skirt pocket before resting her hands in her lap.
"Don't you
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