some.”
Aware of his eyes on her, she felt strangely flustered, and was conscious of a strong, almost painful wish that she were the kind of woman to make him catch his breath. For the first time in her life she sincerely longed for the gift of beauty. But even as she wished it she knew that she was being ridiculous. Those heart-stopping golden eyes were seeing her just as she was: a too slender, big-eyed slip of a girl in an incongruously Luxurious lavender satin bed jacket, her wayward hair, more untidy than ever from not having been properly dressed in more than a week, sending itchy tendrils to tickle her nose while the mass of it cascaded in a tangle down her back. She knew that she was nothing out of the ordinary, with her pale skin and freckles and delicate, pointy face. Certainly her looks paled to insignificance beside Alec’s dazzling golden handsomeness, or Pearl’s outlandish blonde beauty.
“Thank you, but I’ll wait for Pearl to come back,” Alec said abruptly. Startled at something in his tone, Isabella lifted her eyes to his face. He was frowning slightly, though not so much at her, she thought, as his own thoughts. Or perhaps he was in pain. There was such a vitality about him that it was easy to forget that he had been shot in the chest not so long ago.
As suddenly as it had appeared, his frown vanished. His eyes were keen on her face.
“Have you decided? Shall I try to find out who it is that would see you dead?”
The question caught Isabella by surprise. But it seemed that during the long, sleepless night she had indeed decided.
“Yes, please,” she said.
He inclined his head, accepting her decision without comment. “If you’ll excuse me, then, I’ll finish dressing.”
Isabella nodded. He turned on his heel and strode with easy grace to the dressing room door. There he paused for an instant, looking at her with a frown as if he would say something more. He apparently thought better of it, shook his head, and left her alone.
Isabella was left staring after him. The image of those broad shoulders and muscular legs as they had looked walking away from her remained with her long after he had vanished from her sight.
XIV
A quarter of an hour later, Paddy had joined Alec in the dressing room, and Pearl had returned with his breakfast. The three of them were closeted together. It gave Isabella an odd sense of lonesomeness to be on the wrong side of that closed door.
She looked down with distaste at the remainder of her breakfast. Her appetite had quite deserted her, and she wasn’t sure why. It might be because she was facing the very real possibility that someone, most likely her husband, had paid to have her killed. Or it might be that she, a married woman, a lady, was growing all too disturbingly aware of Alec.
Just because he was the handsomest man she had ever seen in her life was no reason to lose her sound common sense, she scolded herself. Even were she not married, he was not for her. The gulf that separated them was far too wide. She was a lady of the ton, a countess of noble parentage. He was … what? Certainly he was not of her ilk.
Isabella was beginning to realize that she had been sheltered too long at Blakely Park. In the six years since her marriage to Bernard, she had seen few people besides the servants, and no attractive men whatsoever. She was a normal young woman, after all, and perhaps her attraction to Alec merely meant that she was starved for compatible company. It was possible that Pressy and the servants and her animals weren’t enough for her. Perhaps what she needed was someone of her own age and kind, to talk with and laugh with and experience life with a little.
Maybe Bernard had known that, and that was why he had so inexplicably summoned her to London.
Although Bernard, in the years she had been wed to him, had never showed the slightest degree of perception where she was concerned.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and despite the
Aware of his eyes on her, she felt strangely flustered, and was conscious of a strong, almost painful wish that she were the kind of woman to make him catch his breath. For the first time in her life she sincerely longed for the gift of beauty. But even as she wished it she knew that she was being ridiculous. Those heart-stopping golden eyes were seeing her just as she was: a too slender, big-eyed slip of a girl in an incongruously Luxurious lavender satin bed jacket, her wayward hair, more untidy than ever from not having been properly dressed in more than a week, sending itchy tendrils to tickle her nose while the mass of it cascaded in a tangle down her back. She knew that she was nothing out of the ordinary, with her pale skin and freckles and delicate, pointy face. Certainly her looks paled to insignificance beside Alec’s dazzling golden handsomeness, or Pearl’s outlandish blonde beauty.
“Thank you, but I’ll wait for Pearl to come back,” Alec said abruptly. Startled at something in his tone, Isabella lifted her eyes to his face. He was frowning slightly, though not so much at her, she thought, as his own thoughts. Or perhaps he was in pain. There was such a vitality about him that it was easy to forget that he had been shot in the chest not so long ago.
As suddenly as it had appeared, his frown vanished. His eyes were keen on her face.
“Have you decided? Shall I try to find out who it is that would see you dead?”
The question caught Isabella by surprise. But it seemed that during the long, sleepless night she had indeed decided.
“Yes, please,” she said.
He inclined his head, accepting her decision without comment. “If you’ll excuse me, then, I’ll finish dressing.”
Isabella nodded. He turned on his heel and strode with easy grace to the dressing room door. There he paused for an instant, looking at her with a frown as if he would say something more. He apparently thought better of it, shook his head, and left her alone.
Isabella was left staring after him. The image of those broad shoulders and muscular legs as they had looked walking away from her remained with her long after he had vanished from her sight.
XIV
A quarter of an hour later, Paddy had joined Alec in the dressing room, and Pearl had returned with his breakfast. The three of them were closeted together. It gave Isabella an odd sense of lonesomeness to be on the wrong side of that closed door.
She looked down with distaste at the remainder of her breakfast. Her appetite had quite deserted her, and she wasn’t sure why. It might be because she was facing the very real possibility that someone, most likely her husband, had paid to have her killed. Or it might be that she, a married woman, a lady, was growing all too disturbingly aware of Alec.
Just because he was the handsomest man she had ever seen in her life was no reason to lose her sound common sense, she scolded herself. Even were she not married, he was not for her. The gulf that separated them was far too wide. She was a lady of the ton, a countess of noble parentage. He was … what? Certainly he was not of her ilk.
Isabella was beginning to realize that she had been sheltered too long at Blakely Park. In the six years since her marriage to Bernard, she had seen few people besides the servants, and no attractive men whatsoever. She was a normal young woman, after all, and perhaps her attraction to Alec merely meant that she was starved for compatible company. It was possible that Pressy and the servants and her animals weren’t enough for her. Perhaps what she needed was someone of her own age and kind, to talk with and laugh with and experience life with a little.
Maybe Bernard had known that, and that was why he had so inexplicably summoned her to London.
Although Bernard, in the years she had been wed to him, had never showed the slightest degree of perception where she was concerned.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and despite the
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