The ladies shook hands, and Francis indicated that he’d escort her to the door. Isabelle hoped that her lady’s maid would be close by to give her a full report.

  ***

  How in the world did he find himself in such a toil? Francis wondered glumly. It had been terribly uncomfortable walking in on his present lover to find her closeted with his previous one. That is, she wasn’t exactly his lover—at least not yet. Dash it all!

  “Would you like me to escort you home?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t want your escort,” Mrs. Landon hissed angrily at him. “A month ago was it, that you met Miss Howard? A bit of a coincidence, isn’t it, that you ended things between us around that time?”

  “Elizabeth, what happened between us had nothing to do with Miss Howard.”

  She looked away angrily but didn’t refute that statement. Finally, she said, “She’s beautiful, of course, but also quite cunning. It would be imprudent to try to compete with the likes of her. Have a care, Francis, that’s a woman who knows what she wants and will never stop until she gets it.”

  Didn’t he know it!

  He smiled down at her. “Don’t worry about me. I’m quite capable of fending for myself, but I do thank you for your warning. I’m pleased to think we can still be friends.” He raised her hand and planted a kiss on the back of it.

  “Oh, you stupid man,” she sniffed tearfully. “Of course we’re still friends. We should’ve just stuck to that rather than try to make something more of it.”

  He felt a pang of regret for how things had ended between them. It was completely his fault, of course. The moment he’d clapped eyes on Isabelle, he’d wanted no other woman. Those brief minutes in her company were enough to hook him. He’d gone to bed filled with lust-filled images of her and woken up every morning with a throbbing erection, yearning for the beautiful stranger.

  He hadn’t been able to bring himself to feel any desire for Elizabeth, who’d been his lover for close to three months. So, he’d done what his conscience told him to do. He’d ended things swiftly and abruptly, not wishing to lead her on. He’d known full well that, until he’d had Isabelle, he’d never truly want to be with another woman. It was not Elizabeth’s fault, of course, which made him feel like an absolute blackguard.

  “I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “I truly am.”

  She waved his apology aside. “Please don’t, Francis. I doubt we would have lasted much longer; neither of us was looking for marriage and rumors about us had already begun to spread. I can’t risk being involved with a man; my reputation and my job are all I have. Besides, I’ve seen her,” she added with a twisted smile. “I can’t really blame you, she’s a most fascinating creature.”

  Francis had no desire to discuss Isabelle with his past lover, so he merely nodded and bowed as she left the cottage. He went back to the parlor and found Isabelle seated, flipping through the pages of a book.

  “There you are,” she exclaimed, tossing the book aside. “Finally I can stop pretending to read this.”

  “For whose benefit was the pretension?” he asked, amused.

  “Well, it wouldn’t do for you to walk in here and find me pacing or twiddling my thumbs, now would it?”

  He chuckled and took a chair next to the settee she was occupying. “I’ve just come from Bindon Abbey,” he said without preamble. “The new Viscount, your brother, wished to consult me on a few business matters and asked if I could do him the favor of calling on you. He’s of the opinion that you wouldn’t turn me away.”

  “Surely you know by now that I’d never turn you away. I’ve worked so hard to get you to this point,” she said with a wink.

  Saucy minx.

  Ignoring her remark, he continued, “He hopes that you would consent to dine with your family at the Abbey this evening. He wishes to discuss your allowance and give you the keys to your new home.”

  “A family dinner, what a charming picture. Nothing like a healthy dose of awkwardness and resentment to build up an appetite.”

  “Isabelle,” he began quietly, leaning toward her. “What happened with your family? Why are you still angry at your brother and mother?”

  She looked away sharply and he saw color infuse her cheeks.

  “Sometimes standing by and doing nothing is just as bad as committing the crime itself. They are guilty of cowardice, meekness, and passivity. I’m not unjust; I never blamed them for what happened to me, none of them could have guessed…but I do blame them for idly watching my demise without lifting a finger to help me.”

  Francis felt the pain in her words. Her love and trust in her family had been shattered, and he doubted it could ever be fixed.

  “I heard you speaking with Matthew on the day of the funeral,” she admitted, taking him by surprise. “Your guess was quite accurate. I commend you on your sharp wit. Some pieces of the puzzle are missing, though; you haven’t figured out my whole sorry story, have you?”

  He wanted to know. A part of him didn’t want to hear what had happened to her, but he had to know what had made this fascinating woman the way she was now. He wanted the secrets behind her merry eyes and flirtatious smile. His curiosity had been nagging him for weeks. “Tell me then. Fill in the missing pieces.”

  She sighed and said, “I suppose you’ll hear the story soon enough, and I’d rather you heard it from me. You’ll never hear the other side of the story because…well, he’s dead. So, my story is the only one you’ll ever hear.”

  “I only care about your side of the story.”

  She smiled at him dazzlingly. “You know, you’re quite wonderful.”

  Suddenly, she rose from the settee and, before he could blink, she sat on his lap, cupped his face, and kissed him. His body rose to attention immediately, his erection straining beneath his buckskin breeches against her shapely bottom. Her tongue darted in and out of his mouth, teasing him and stoking his desire.

  He circled one of his hands around her waist, pulling her closer to him, while his other hand began to knead one of her plump breasts.

  She moaned into his mouth and he shifted beneath her, trying to relieve his aching member. “God, Isabelle, you drive me mad!”

  She smiled against his lips and leaned her forehead against his. “And you have no idea what you do to me.”

  She chuckled softly and got up from his lap and resumed her seat on the settee. She looked flushed and starry-eyed, and he imagined himself taking her then and there on Mrs. Kent’s settee.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, then you’d best lock the door, lest my old nurse walk in on us.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “That won’t be necessary. You were going to invite me into your confidence before you fell victim to my charms, if I recall.”

  Chapter 15

  Isabelle looked at the Earl, considering. He was an honorable man who could keep a secret. She wasn’t ashamed of her past and had no desire to spin a web of lies. She was more interested in kissing Francis, though, than trudging up past misery.

  She sighed and looked directly at him. “Are you quite certain you wish to know? It’s not a pleasant story.”

  “Start at the beginning,” he prompted her.

  “Very well,” she said in a resigned tone. “My father had two siblings, both of whom played an instrumental part in what happened to me. His older sister, Mabel, was married to a Scotsman, and traveled frequently between London and Edinburgh. You met her late husband’s nephew, Graham, at the will reading. Aunt Mabel was always kind to me whenever she visited, but we didn’t see much of her. My father’s younger brother, Charles, however, we saw quite often. Uncle Charlie was fifteen years my father’s junior; he was given the title of Baron Lumley at birth and Father practically raised him. He was the family favorite, and he was certainly Matthew’s and mine. He brought us toys whenever he visited the Abbey. He also played with us and taught us to ride.”

  She stopped for a minute and looked out the window, unseeing.

  “It’s a tradition in Minterne to hold a summer fête each year. The Gilberts would host the festival one year, and the Howards would host it on the following one. We were the two most prominent families and had the most extensive grounds. In the spirit of friendly rivalry, your Aunt Lavinia and my mother strove to outdo one another each year. It was tremendous fun, and the entire village turned out for it.”

  She swallowed and crossed her arms in a seemingly unconscious manner.

  “Uncle Charlie came to the fête that summer, of course, like he had every year for as far back as I can remember. I was nervous about his visit. I had seen him over Christmas, and something about that stay made me uncomfortable.”

  The hair on the back of Francis’s neck stood up. “What made you uncomfortable?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “It wasn’t something I could put my finger on. It was several small things that happened, which made his visit intolerable to me. The way his eyes followed me everywhere I went. He was constantly finding excuses to touch me and even tried to set me on his lap more than once. The way he…kissed me beneath the mistletoe hanging in a doorway. That was no avuncular peck on the cheek,” she bit out, her voice full of revulsion.

  “Did you say anything to your parents?”

  She snorted. “No! Besides, what would I have said? Uncle Charlie is acting inappropriately? They would’ve dismissed my concerns, and my father would’ve probably beaten me for speaking ill of his dear brother.”

  He exhaled in frustration. “What happened at the summer fête?”

  “I was fourteen years old that summer. I was mature for my age—pretty, with curves and generous breasts. I also thrived on male attention. The boys, of course, were tripping all over each other trying to earn my favor. I’d been kissed over a dozen times by that summer. The festival was in full swing, and I managed to escape my governess and headed straight for the stables. I’d been flirting with one of the younger groomsmen, and I knew he’d be there. Uncle Charlie came upon us kissing in one of the stalls. My co-conspirator took himself off quickly, while my uncle looked at me and called me a naughty puss. It was the way he looked at me when he said it…the unmistakable lust terrified me. I ran as fast as I could out of the stables and caught my dress on a nail. The festival had gotten even more crowded; all the guests were spread out on the lawns, at the different food stalls, and at the games. Mother wanted everything to be perfect and had no time to speak to me except to reprimand me for ruining my gown. She ordered me back to the house to change.”

  She stopped and swallowed again.

  “The Abbey was deserted; all the servants were out on the grounds. At least, I thought I was on my own. My uncle had followed me. He—he grabbed me from behind and dragged me into the library. I screamed for help, I scratched at him. I kicked, and I struggled to get free, but he was so much bigger than me and much stronger. No one heard me; no one came to help me. He…forced himself on me, his niece, his own flesh and blood. His face was twisted with lust; he looked like a wild animal. After he was done, he left me there on the library floor bleeding. It can’t have been more than half an hour when one of the maids found me, but it felt like an eternity. They summoned a physician, and one of the footmen carried me up to my room.”

  “What did your father do?” Francis asked between clenched teeth.

  She laughed bitterly.

  “Surely you can guess, my lord. I may have been my father’s favorite, but he’d often condemned my vanity and scolded me for being a flirt. He refused to believe me. He called me a liar and said I had made the whole thing up to cover up an indiscretion. His brother would never act in such a villainous manner. But the physician confirmed that I’d been raped, and quite brutally as well. His brother was nowhere to be found, and his horse was missing from its stall. He’d fled before I was discovered. My father grew incensed. He called me a whore, and then he beat me and dragged me out of my room. He threw me out of my home with nothing but the clothes on my back.”

  “That bastard,” Francis cried in a burst of anger. Then he mumbled an apology to excuse his language.

  Isabelle chuckled. “Those were my sentiments exactly. Unfortunately though, things only got worse after that. I was so stunned, you see, I sat on the doorstep in complete disbelief and in a considerable amount of pain. The door was bolted shut. I banged on it demanding to be let in, but no one did. Even the servants’ entrance had been barred. So, I dragged myself away from my home and walked slowly to Minterne Manor, to my betrothed, George, and my dearest friend, Victoria.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook with anger. “I almost don’t want to ask. How did my cousins receive you?”

  “They didn’t! I never got past the front door. The Earl, their father, opened the door himself. He told me he didn’t wish to have his line contaminated with that of an incestuous whore. I was no longer betrothed to his precious son, and he added, for good measure, not to show my face at the manor ever again. I could see George and Victoria standing behind him. They said and did nothing.”

  Francis exhaled in frustration. “Bloody hell!”

  Isabelle smiled at him, her chivalrous knight, so willing to take up her cause and defend her honor. She’d had years to come to terms with what happened to her, and to move forward without dwelling too much on the past. But he was taking it all very hard.

  Wanting to be closer to him, she slipped off the settee and sat by his feet. She took one of his hands into hers. “I’m the woman I am today because of what happened to me. I wish to God it never happened, but it did. I’ve made mistakes in my life, but mostly I did what I had to do to survive. I’m not ashamed of what I’ve done to be the person I am today.”

  “You should never be ashamed,” he said vehemently. “I wish I’d known you then, I wish I could’ve helped you.”

  She giggled. “Oh, darling, you were off playing soldier at that time, flirting with Spanish ladies and working your way up the ranks.”

  He let out a snort of laughter. “Trust me, it was nowhere near that glamorous.” He sobered almost immediately and put a hand on her cheek. “You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met, Isabelle Howard. To be honest, I’m quite in awe of you.”

  She turned her face into his hand and kissed it. Then she quickly rose to her feet and walked to the window, pretending to look out onto the street. She didn’t want him to see how much his words meant to her. Her heart was in far more danger than she’d thought.

  She plastered on her sunny smile as she turned back to face him. “Well, I’ve decided I’ll dine at the Abbey this evening, after all. I’ll send a note to Matthew requesting he send the carriage for me. Now everyone will know my Achilles’ heel.”

  “And what might that be?” he asked in some confusion.

  “That I can never deny you, Lord Digby.”

  ***

  The carriage dropped Isabelle off at Bindon Abbey at precisely five o’clock. Simmons greeted her somewhat reverently. Apparently her rise from neglected daughter to heiress increased her esteem among the staff members.

  She was led into the library, where she found Matthew leaning broodingly against the fireplace mantel, her mother sitting on a couch fidgeting nervously, and Oscar sprawled inelegantly in a wing chair.

  Oscar was the first to see her. He strode to her, smiling, and kissed her cheek while drawing her to one of the leather couches.

  “I’m deuced glad you came, Izzy. I was worried that you’d left for London already without saying goodbye.”

  “No, I’ve decided to stay for a few days. I’m staying with Nan in the village for now, but I do plan on looking in at Bindon House as soon as possible.”

  “Of course,” Matthew said rather stiffly. “It’s been properly cared for, you should know. Although it’s been vacant for years, a servant goes every month to clean it and make sure everything is in good repair. The furniture is quite outdated, but the grounds have been maintained as well.”

  He picked up a leather pouch from the desk and handed it to her. “That’s the deed to the house and the land, as well as the keys. It’s all yours, no stipulations.”

  Isabelle gave him a tight smile. “Thank you, Lord Bindon.”

  Matthew nodded curtly, looking somewhat uncomfortable with her use of his new title.

  “I have collected quite a bit of furniture over the years in London. Perhaps I’ll have some pieces brought over here.”

  “Doesn’t the Salon and everything in it belong to the madam?” asked Oscar.

  “Most of the ladies there use the Salon as a temporary residence. Madam Sophie charges them rent and a portion of their nights’ earnings. A clever woman does her best to find a protector and to be set up in her own establishment with gowns, furniture, and servants. The more generous her benefactor is, the more she can set money aside for a rainy day…or rather when his interest wanes and moves on.”

  “Thank you for explaining the intricacies of a courtesan’s life,” Matthew said drily.

  “I would think you’re quite familiar with how members of the demi-rep conduct their affairs,” Isabelle retorted with a somewhat malicious smile. “By the bye, how did you know that I was residing at The Scarlet Salon?”

  He sat silently for a moment then said, “When you left the Abbey, I got wind that you were heading for London. So, I made some discreet inquiries. None of our acquaintances there reported seeing you, however. Your mother and I grew concerned, so we hired a Bow Street Runner to track you down. For months, he followed false leads but could find no trace of you. Then he heard of a lady of quality in Covent Garden who was receiving some marked attention from the gentlemen seeking amusement there.”

  Isabelle kept her face impassive. She was quite surprised that they’d gone through the trouble of hiring a runner to find her. It didn’t really change things, but it heartened her to know that they’d cared enough to try.

  Matthew continued, “He noted your progress from one…establishment to another. Then you disappeared again.”

  “I was working my way up in the world. How did he track me to the Salon?”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24