wish to read it?"
"Later," she replied.
"What if it's about me? A warning that I shouldn't be trusted? An explanation of the threat I pose to you?"
She offered Owen a half smile. "Then be warned. I shall be adequately prepared with daggers and fire the next time we meet."
"Fire, huh?"
Isabel shrugged. "What can I say? I have a creative side."
Though she still couldn't read his eyes in the night, the smile lighting his face seemed genuine. She wanted to trust Owen. She already liked him. Trust isn't too much to ask, is it, Lord?
She, however, kept her thoughts to herself and remained silent. Let him speak first.
"I've been called away to London on a covert mission."
The air left Isabel's lungs. "But what of the Âne Hurlants ? What of this covert mission?"
"We've still got a month before the ship gets near. I'll be back in plenty of time. I need to look into some things in London."
"By whose command?"
This time Owen remained silent.
"What is this secret job you're being sent on?"
Owen bit his lower lip before answering. "I'm good with numbers. I read ledgers, look for details that don't make sense. I can find things other people miss."
"Whose books will you be investigating, then?"
"The minister's."
Isabel's heart stuttered in her chest. Parliament had many ministers, but in her world, in Owen's world, there was only one, and he was recently deceased… by his own hand. In an unconscious gesture, she lifted a hand to her throat. "Why?"
"You might hate me if I tell you."
How could she hate Owen? Unless… "Say it and be done with it."
"I'm to investigate whether or not he had any possible involvement with your parents’ deaths."
Chapter Sixteen
Isabel arrived back at the small cottage she shared with Red and Maggie. Her dragging feet gave her away, for Maggie sat her down in front of the fire the moment she walked in the door.
"Tell us what's wrong, Queenie."
She avoided their eyes, too heartbroken to look at them. "Owen's investigating my parents."
"Why?" Red's voice was gruff, but she couldn't miss the way his hands tightened into fists. He'd challenge Owen to a duel if she asked it of him.
"He's been called to London to go through the minister's papers to see if he can find proof the minister was involved."
Maggie squatted down in front of Isabel. "This might be good. What if he finds proof your folks didn't do what people think?"
Isabel's voice sounded dead, even to her own ears. "What if he finds proof they did?"
Red leaned his large frame against the wall by the door. "You need to go with him."
Maggie's eyebrows rose. "Split us up?"
Red nodded. "She needs to oversee the work or she'll never believe whatever evidence he finds — good or bad. You and I can keep track of the incoming ships easily enough. We can make sure everything is in place and ready for their return."
Isabel lifted her eyes to her dear friend. "You believe we'll come back together?"
He crossed his arms over his chest. "I've heard you talk about your parents, Queen. They didn't do what people say they did. Your parents loved you too much to ever put themselves and you at such risk." Red frowned as though the words pained him when he added, "I think you can trust Owen."
Red didn't usually offer such high praise. "What makes you say so?"
"I did some checking."
Isabel's words were short. "Don't make me drag the words out of you."
"That mess in Austria where Jackal nearly died?"
She nodded.
"Your friend Owen is the reason there wasn't a funeral."
He'd mentioned… "I think he told me the story, but he didn't give names. He didn't even mention the country, or I'd have figured it out already."
"Rumor is he's a friend of Jackal’s."
Isabel reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out the missive. "You don't get that kind of information by spending time in places women can't go. Where did you learn that?"
Red shrugged and pushed himself away from the wall. "I still have a few contacts that aren't dead yet."
"Later," she replied.
"What if it's about me? A warning that I shouldn't be trusted? An explanation of the threat I pose to you?"
She offered Owen a half smile. "Then be warned. I shall be adequately prepared with daggers and fire the next time we meet."
"Fire, huh?"
Isabel shrugged. "What can I say? I have a creative side."
Though she still couldn't read his eyes in the night, the smile lighting his face seemed genuine. She wanted to trust Owen. She already liked him. Trust isn't too much to ask, is it, Lord?
She, however, kept her thoughts to herself and remained silent. Let him speak first.
"I've been called away to London on a covert mission."
The air left Isabel's lungs. "But what of the Âne Hurlants ? What of this covert mission?"
"We've still got a month before the ship gets near. I'll be back in plenty of time. I need to look into some things in London."
"By whose command?"
This time Owen remained silent.
"What is this secret job you're being sent on?"
Owen bit his lower lip before answering. "I'm good with numbers. I read ledgers, look for details that don't make sense. I can find things other people miss."
"Whose books will you be investigating, then?"
"The minister's."
Isabel's heart stuttered in her chest. Parliament had many ministers, but in her world, in Owen's world, there was only one, and he was recently deceased… by his own hand. In an unconscious gesture, she lifted a hand to her throat. "Why?"
"You might hate me if I tell you."
How could she hate Owen? Unless… "Say it and be done with it."
"I'm to investigate whether or not he had any possible involvement with your parents’ deaths."
Chapter Sixteen
Isabel arrived back at the small cottage she shared with Red and Maggie. Her dragging feet gave her away, for Maggie sat her down in front of the fire the moment she walked in the door.
"Tell us what's wrong, Queenie."
She avoided their eyes, too heartbroken to look at them. "Owen's investigating my parents."
"Why?" Red's voice was gruff, but she couldn't miss the way his hands tightened into fists. He'd challenge Owen to a duel if she asked it of him.
"He's been called to London to go through the minister's papers to see if he can find proof the minister was involved."
Maggie squatted down in front of Isabel. "This might be good. What if he finds proof your folks didn't do what people think?"
Isabel's voice sounded dead, even to her own ears. "What if he finds proof they did?"
Red leaned his large frame against the wall by the door. "You need to go with him."
Maggie's eyebrows rose. "Split us up?"
Red nodded. "She needs to oversee the work or she'll never believe whatever evidence he finds — good or bad. You and I can keep track of the incoming ships easily enough. We can make sure everything is in place and ready for their return."
Isabel lifted her eyes to her dear friend. "You believe we'll come back together?"
He crossed his arms over his chest. "I've heard you talk about your parents, Queen. They didn't do what people say they did. Your parents loved you too much to ever put themselves and you at such risk." Red frowned as though the words pained him when he added, "I think you can trust Owen."
Red didn't usually offer such high praise. "What makes you say so?"
"I did some checking."
Isabel's words were short. "Don't make me drag the words out of you."
"That mess in Austria where Jackal nearly died?"
She nodded.
"Your friend Owen is the reason there wasn't a funeral."
He'd mentioned… "I think he told me the story, but he didn't give names. He didn't even mention the country, or I'd have figured it out already."
"Rumor is he's a friend of Jackal’s."
Isabel reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out the missive. "You don't get that kind of information by spending time in places women can't go. Where did you learn that?"
Red shrugged and pushed himself away from the wall. "I still have a few contacts that aren't dead yet."
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