by Robyn DeHart
“Miss Isabel, you are a genteel lady, but more so than that, you are my guest. Sending you to the servants’ quarters is completely out of the question.”
She eyed the room again, taking in everything before her. A massive four-poster bed, carved ornately with cherubs and flowers, sat in the center of the room. Luxurious sheets and coverlets in soft shades of powdery blue piled atop it, beckoned her with softness and warmth. A huge armoire in matching carved mahogany sat in the corner and was flanked by a dressing table and a small writing desk. Near the fireplace, an upholstered chair promised a perfect place to curl up with a book. The entire wall opposite her boasted near floor-to-ceiling windows that likely offered a brilliant view of either the viscount’s gardens or the city, depending on what the morning light would reveal. She was far more accustomed to her own small bed in the room she shared with three other girls at St. Bart’s.
“Certainly when you visited your uncle, he did not require you to sleep in the servants’ wing,” Viscount Ellis said, his voice reminding her that she was not standing here alone.
“What?”
“When you visited your aunt and uncle, your room?”
She shook her head. “No. I never…that is to say, I stayed at St. Bartholomew’s.”
“What about holidays and end of term?” he asked.
Yes, she was familiar with this sentiment. She’d experienced it often at school, when all the other students would return to their families’ homes and she’d stay at St. Bart’s. They’d all pitied her. Even the ones who weren’t treated all that well by their relations, even they had looked upon her with sadness. Poor Isabel. Unwanted Isabel. She saw the same thing reflected in Viscount Ellis’s eyes. She turned her gaze back to the large windows even though it was too dark for her to see anything. At least she didn’t have to indulge his pity.
“Uncle Thornton was a busy man. At least that is what he told me.” She’d made so many excuses for that man that she’d forgotten half of them. Why did she even bother? He’d been a wretched uncle, doing little more than paying for her schooling. “He was not overly affectionate. It was best for me to stay at the school, and I preferred it that way.” There, he couldn’t pity that. He might not understand it, but he couldn’t feel sorry for her if she had chosen the isolation.
He leaned casually against the wall. “Did the other students stay at the school, too?”
“No, not often. Occasionally one of them would, but for the most part, it was just me.”
“Did you not get lonely?” he asked, pushing himself off the wall.
“I am rather accustomed to my own company.” She smiled. “In truth, I often prefer the silence of my own thoughts. And there were a couple of alley cats that would allow me a scratch behind their ears every now and again.”
The viscount rocked back on his heels. “I see. Well then, consider this a little holiday.”
She glanced at the room and all the open space. She could positively dance in the area near the windows, it was so large. She offered him a frown. “You do not have a smaller room?”
“Might I give you a piece of advice?” he asked.
“Of course, my lord.”
“When someone offers you something”—he leaned a little closer as if they were conspiring in some secret plan— “such as a nice room to stay in, it is customary to simply say thank you.” Then he smiled at her, and the warmth in that grin radiated through her.
“Yes, of course. I did not mean to be so rude. Truly, I meant no offense.”
“Isabel, relax. And enjoy yourself. Ring that bell over there”—he pointed to the long rope hanging beside the bed—“if you need anything at all.” He turned to go, then paused. “And please call me Jason. Lord Ellis seems so formal.”
“Lord…er, Jason, thank you. It is a lovely room.”
He chuckled and stepped out.
Now that she was alone, she again scanned the room. Yes, she could most certainly enjoy herself in here. It was luxurious, but she knew that her future did not hold such grandeur. Although perhaps wherever she found employment, the family would give her a lovely little room in which to stay. So she would allow herself one day to revel in the luxury, but she couldn’t afford to get used to this.
…
Jason found Lynford back in his study just as Lilith was leaving the room. Jason nodded to her as she passed the threshold.
“What the devil are you doing, Lynford?” he asked.
“Running the investigation on Thornton.”
“Precisely what Potterfield told you not to do,” Jason said. “I’d expect this from Somersby, but not you.”
Lynford, known as Gabe to friends who knew him before he assumed his title, shrugged. “Yes, I do tend to follow the rules and instructions, but I know I’m right about this, damnation, and I shall not allow Potterfield’s error in judgment to prevent me from bringing a would-be assassin to justice.”
Along with several other peers of the realm, they were part of the secret organization known as the Brotherhood of the Sword. The Brotherhood used their positions as aristocrats to stay close to the monarch and keep the royal family safe, above all things. Jason had been recruiting Brotherhood members since he’d been a student because of his unparalleled riding ability. He’d gone on to train new members in the arts of tracking and riding without leaving a trail. It was a skill set he knew he could offer the Brotherhood that no one else could provide, and it kept him from feeling completely like an imposter despite the secret of the illegitimacy of his birth.
Recently their young queen, Victoria, had been attacked, on more than one occasion. Gabe had been convinced that the Earl of Thornton was behind the attacks and had followed Thornton’s wife, Lilith, who had eventually agreed to cooperate with the investigation.
“And Isabel?” Jason asked.
“Lilith was concerned for her well-being. I followed her to the girl’s school, and it was fortunate that I did, considering someone tried to snatch the girl right outside the school gates,” Gabe said.
“Indeed.” He wanted to ask more, know more about the exotic beauty Gabe had brought to his home, but no legitimate questions came to mind.
“Will you protect her? Lilith and I have more investigative work to do, and I know that I will not have Lilith’s full concentration if she is constantly worrying about her charge.”
Protect her? That beautiful creature he’d led to a guest room right down the hall from his own bedchamber? He wasn’t one to wax poetic about anything, but he suspected even the Bard himself could not write a sonnet that sufficiently captured the beauty of Isabel’s eyes. “Yes, of course.” Although he certainly felt there was likely someone more qualified, he was pleased that Gabe trusted him enough to seek him out for such a favor.
“She shouldn’t provide you any trouble,” Gabe said.
Jason highly doubted that was entirely true. In his experience, women that beautiful always caused trouble.
…
Isabel had had a chance to wash up and change clothes and was already feeling lighter. Her uncle had died, and certainly that meant her life could begin.
She could leave St. Bart’s for good and build a new life in London, perhaps working for a nice family. Now she would have the opportunity to make her own way in the world. Her uncle’s demise meant the end of her having to rely on him to make decisions about her future. Finally, the endless purgatory of her undecided future would cease. This would mean she’d no longer be an object of pity.
Lilith found her and suggested a walk in the gardens.
“I thought some nice morning air would be just the thing,” Lilith said.
The sweet scent of hyacinth lingered on the breeze. It was obvious that Viscount Ellis had a rather devoted gardener; Isabel lost count of the number of different types of flowers surrounding them. They settled onto a stone bench beneath an oak tree.
“They’ll keep us safe,” Lilith said.
“‘They’ meaning Lord Lynford and Lord Ellis
?”
Lilith nodded. “I’ve known Lord Lynford for many years.”
Isabel supposed she should believe her aunt. Although they’d had limited contact with each other, Lilith had always done everything she could for Isabel.
“As soon as we unravel all of this—” Lilith sighed. “You and I will start over somewhere. Just the two of us.”
That sounded lovely, but Isabel knew she couldn’t continue to be a burden on Lilith forever. Lilith was still a young woman. She would find another man eventually and want to start a new family. No, Isabel had her own plans. She’d find gainful employment and earn her own way in life, but she mentioned none of that now. Lilith had already done so much, and someday, Isabel would repay the kindness.
“’Tis hard to believe he is gone. It seems I should feel something now that Thornton is dead, but I don’t.” Isabel swept a glance at her aunt. “That makes me a horrible person, doesn’t it?”
“Of course not.” Lilith swallowed hard, then frowned deeply. “Thornton was a cruel bastard. All he ever did for you was pay for your schooling and belongings. He certainly offered you no familial love.”
“Was he even my uncle?” It was a question that had plagued her for years, one that she’d never before dared to ask.
Lilith placed her hand over Isabel’s and squeezed lightly. “Honestly, I’m not certain. Do you remember anything from your past, from before Thornton?”
Isabel thought back, trying to recall anything before she’d arrived at St. Bart’s. “Sometimes, I remember a cottage…by the sea, I believe, because I recall the salty air.” She tried to relive the scent. “And a woman. Perhaps she was my mother, but I remember only her voice singing a song about birds, nothing about the way she looked.”
“That’s a start.”
“It’s not very helpful. I’m not even certain if it is a memory or simply something I imagined.”
“It’s all right. We’re together now, and we’ll figure everything out. I’ve saved money so we can have a new start somewhere, on the Continent or even the Americas. You think about where you might like to go,” Lilith said.
Isabel nodded.
Lilith stood.
“I should like to discover the truth about myself before we leave the country,” Isabel said, knowing that she’d never depend on Lilith to be financially responsible for her. She did not want to separate from her aunt, but she would not be a burden on her, either.
“Of course.”
Isabel’s mind was plagued with questions and concerns, but she would not let Lilith know that. The woman already had endured so much at the hand of Thornton. So Isabel brought a smile to her lips and came to her feet. “I believe I am hungry.” She embraced Lilith. “Thank you for coming to get me. I suspect had you not, I would simply have been let out on the streets. As it was, I was the oldest student by nearly a year.”
“Of course. No matter where you truly came from, we are family.” Tears pooled in Lilith’s eyes. “You should know that Lord Lynford and I are going to be leaving. We have some information we’re going to follow up on and try to figure this ordeal out. I want you to be safe. That’s my primary focus. Lord Lynford is the best at this sort of thing. He’s the most intelligent man I’ve ever known, so if anyone can uncover why you’re in danger, he will. In the meantime, you will stay here, and Lord Ellis will protect you.”
Isabel nodded firmly. She wanted to tell Lilith no, that if there was danger surrounding her, she should simply leave and go into hiding. There was no reason to put others in danger as well. But where would she go? Perhaps she could rely on them a little longer until they could shed light on the situation, and then she would leave and find a way to take care of herself.
Lilith had come to find her after luncheon to inform her that she was leaving with Lord Lynford. So for the time being, it would appear she was a guest of the viscount’s hospitality.
With nothing else to do with herself, Isabel went in search of the library. The girls at St. Bart’s would return from their holidays at home with the same stories, tales of large libraries with floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with volumes covering topics from astronomy to zoology. This was, for all intents and purposes, Isabel’s first time in a London lord’s townhome, and she felt hopeful she could find such a room here.
It took several doors before she finally found an oversize room lined with shelves. She stepped inside and took in the sight of the books on the wall to her right. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in the rich scent of leather and the slightly stale scent of aged paper.
Oh my, I could live in here.
Her friend Madeline, who had once told her of her uncle’s library, had not exaggerated, as Isabel had first believed. Perhaps Lord Ellis had children and he could hire her to be his governess so she could have access to this magnificence whenever she pleased. She made her way over to one of the shelves and ran her fingertips along the spines of the books. There were titles covering every subject, from astronomy to philosophy to mathematics.
“We can certainly have a bed moved into this room if you like it so much.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice. “I beg your pardon?” She turned and found Lord Ellis across the room seated in a high-back chair, reading through a stack of what appeared to be letters.
“You said you could live in here,” he said, glancing back down at the papers in his lap. “I was merely trying to be an accommodating host.”
She never blushed. She wasn’t fair in complexion enough for it to show, but her cheeks heated all the same. “I did not see you in here. I’m sorry I intruded—”
His head shook. “You’re not intruding. Quite the contrary, you’re saving me from having to continue with these.” He set the letters aside and stood. “This was the previous viscount’s library. He was an avid reader.” He joined her to stand in front of one of the shelves.
“Previous viscount? Wasn’t he your father?”
“Ah, yes, yes he was.”
“Do you read?” Then she winced at the way she’d asked the question. “Of course, I realize you know how to read.”
He chuckled, and the deep sound vibrated off her as she realized how close he stood. “I am not much of a reader, although yes, I do know how. I’ve always preferred physical activity to sitting still.”
“Reading is the only time I’m satisfied to be still,” she said. “I’ve always enjoyed reading, but knowing that I’d likely become a governess, I studied every subject I could so that I could offer tutoring in many areas.” She hadn’t decided to become a governess because it was her greatest aspiration, but she’d grown to love the notion. But she’d come to love the notion of teaching other people’s children, especially once it had become clear that she’d likely never marry and have children of her own. She didn’t belong anywhere, at least nowhere she’d found. She wasn’t quite good enough to be out in Society, but she wasn’t so much a commoner, either. So she’d settled on the idea of studying enough to teach, and now it seemed as much a part of her as her love of books.
He nodded, then rocked back on his heels. “That should make finding employment rather easy for you, I believe.” He stepped around her, went to another of the shelves, and stared at the spines.
Still, he was standing far too close for her comfort. The scent of his shaving lotion tickled her nose. She did her best to ignore him, trying to focus on the books in front of her, but he was distracting. It wasn’t so much him, she supposed, but rather just being this close to a man. She’d been at St. Bart’s for so long she was accustomed to mostly girls. “That is my hope.”
“Have you always aspired to be a governess?”
She turned to face him and again was struck by the annoying blueness of his eyes. It was rather ridiculous for them to be that blue, as if they demanded she look into them. “Why do you say that with such disdain? ’Tis a noble profession, being a governess.”
“Indeed it is,” he said. “But no one will hire you.”
<
br /> His words startled her, and she nearly flinched. “Why ever would you say such a thing? I can assure you, I am quite capable. Beyond the schooling I received at St. Bart’s, I have taught myself ancient Greek, Latin, and Italian. I am rather good with numbers and feel confident that I could give instruction on most of the required subjects.”
“That is not the problem.” He stepped over to another bookshelf.
She hurriedly followed after him. “What is the problem then?”
He eyed the books for a moment before turning to face her. “Have you never looked at yourself?”
She glanced down at her dress. The dark blue frock was not the most flattering gown, but it was one of her nicer ones. Many of her other gowns had frayed hems and faded prints. It had been more than a year since Thornton had sent money for clothing. “I realize I am woefully out of fashion, but certainly the families here would not see that as a strike against my teaching and caring for their children.”
His head shook. “No woman in London is going to want you around her husband. Perhaps you can find a widower with a passel of children and he might hire you.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Isabel, you are far too beautiful for any woman to want you so close to her husband.”
Were she the sort of woman to blush, this would have been another of those moments. She wasn’t accustomed to receiving compliments, so she said nothing.
“Besides, I should think being born a noblewoman, your station would afford you a more comfortable life. Do you not have aspirations of managing your own household someday?”
She looked away from him, and then absently retrieved a book from the shelves only to realize it was a volume on botany. “Yes, well, perhaps things are not always what they seem.”
He glanced down at the book she held. “Is this the book you were looking for?”
“It is,” she said, clutching it tightly. “Provided it is acceptable that I borrow it.”
A hint of a smile teased at his lips. “I have no current plans to read Historia Plantarum, although I suspect it shall be a most interesting read.”
