by Amelia Grey
He chuckled softly, easily, and Isabella liked seeing his face in laughter. His eyes sparkled and looked lighter and brighter. She liked the way the wind blew his hair back, showing his strong forehead, making him look younger and even more handsome. His lips were full and tempting, making her desperate to press her own against his and to once again experience the passion she’d found in his arms.
As she watched him she couldn’t help but wonder why Society said kisses were not proper when they felt so good. No doubt someone who didn’t like kisses started that rule. And Isabella believed some rules needed to be broken. Not kissing until you were married was one of them.
Isabella smiled at him. “I’m not so sure you are telling the truth about your reading habits. You’ve come up with a very good clue about finding out who the killer might be.”
“That is because I catch on quick about how your game is played.”
Isabella’s excitement ebbed, and she realized again how uncomfortably hot she was in the cloak. She wished for a chilling breeze to cool her cheeks.
Her expression turned questioning, and she said, “My game? I’m not playing a game, Daniel.”
“That remains to be seen.”
Isabella didn’t know why it bothered her that Daniel thought she was making a game out of this. She truly wanted to see that Gretchen wasn’t implicated in Throckmorten’s murder, but she couldn’t deny that there was an excitement in wanting to help find out who the killer might be.
Maybe she couldn’t blame Daniel for not trusting her. Here she was sitting beside him disguised as an old woman. She’d been the one to suggest he search Mr. Throckmorten’s desk for incriminating papers. Worst of all, she had failed in her duty to keep Gretchen away from Mr. Throckmorten, which started all this intrigue.
Isabella felt the heat not only from the sun but from her conversation with Daniel. She looked around the row of houses they were passing and didn’t see anyone walking the streets. They were clear.
She reached up and untied her aunt’s bonnet. In one fluid movement she swept the bonnet and wig off her head at the same time and let them drop to the carriage floor. Just as quickly, she plopped her own dark blue bonnet over her mussed hair and settled it on her head.
“What are you doing?” Daniel whispered as he looked around the streets to see if anyone was watching them. “You could get caught.”
“It’s so hot I couldn’t possibly wear that thing another moment,” she said as she tied the ribbons under her chin. “It seems as if it was winter yesterday and spring came to London overnight.”
“Don’t make light of your disguise, Isabella. That was a dangerous thing for you to do. Someone could have seen you.”
“I checked the streets to make sure they were empty. I think I’ve made it clear that I don’t want to get caught doing something I shouldn’t do.” She gave him a quick but winning smile. “You worry too much, Daniel.”
“Obviously one of us needs to. I’m trying to keep your reputation from being ruined.”
“I do appreciate that. I’m doing the same for Gretchen. As long as her name doesn’t appear on any of Mr. Throckmorten’s papers, we will assume she’s safe from the gossips and the authorities.”
Isabella unbuttoned the cloak and Daniel helped her to take it off. She let it fall on top of the bonnet and wig. Daniel told the driver not to make the planned detour, but to go directly to Isabella’s house.
When Daniel turned back to her, he said, “Just because I didn’t see anything that looked like an appointment book anywhere on Throckmorten’s desk, I’m not sure we can assume my sister is in the clear yet.”
“I suppose you’re right. We can assume that whoever killed the man saw her.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about him coming forward. But to be on the safe side, I will go to Bow Street and hire a runner to look into Throckmorten’s death.”
Abruptly Isabella’s heart lurched, and then started beating rapidly. She glanced away from Daniel to the tall shrubs and a couple of pedestrians they passed. If there was no intrigue to settle, there would be no reason for him to see her again. If she never saw him alone again, there wouldn’t be any more kisses. That thought caused an unexpected pain deep in her chest.
Isabella didn’t want to stop seeing him. She enjoyed their banter and being with him. She wanted to work with him on solving this crime. She had even hoped he would kiss her again. He was a challenge to be sure but a welcome challenge.
Suddenly the sunshine didn’t seem nearly so bright or feel so warm. In fact, she suddenly felt quite chilled. And once again she was having feelings for Daniel that she didn’t understand.
Why did the thought of not seeing him again squeeze all the joy out of her heart? Why did it suddenly make her feel lonely? It had to be that without him there would be no adventure or intrigue for her to help resolve.
She turned her attention back to him. Isabella didn’t want him forsaking her and going to a runner. She wanted to continue to help him on this quest, but how could she convince him of that?
“I’m not sure that a runner is a good idea. If anyone in the ton hears about you hiring someone to look into this matter, they might wonder why you have such an interest in Mr. Throckmorten.”
“I would make sure the runner was discreet and that my name would never be made known.”
Isabella decided just to say what was on her mind and be done with it. “But if you turn this matter over to a runner, there would be no reason for me to help you with the names in the journal.”
His expression turned serious, and he hesitated a moment before speaking. “Gambling debts and murder are not the kinds of things that a young lady like you should be involved in, Isabella. I think it’s best that only one of us knows what’s written in the book.”
That sinking feeling settled in her stomach. He was telling her he didn’t want her help? He was right. This wasn’t something most young ladies should be involved in, but she was different. She had been a part of this from the beginning, but she knew it would do no good to argue with Lord Colebrooke.
“Yes, perhaps you’re right,” she said with no conviction in her voice. “There’s no reason for both of us to know these men’s private affairs.” She took a painfully deep breath and looked directly into his eyes. “And if I don’t need to help you protect Gretchen’s reputation, I don’t suppose there is any reason for us to continue to see each other.”
He hesitated for a moment before he answered, giving her a dash of hope that he might reconsider, but finally he said, “I don’t see any reason.”
He said it so flatly she had no recourse but to believe him no matter how much that reality wounded her heart and filled her with sadness. But she couldn’t let him know that.
“Good,” she said, keeping her voice as light as possible, not wanting him to know how deeply his words affected her. “It’s settled then. Should we meet at a party, we will greet each other as acquaintances with a smile and continue on our way.”
“I think that’s best, Isabella. Our times alone have been too intense.”
She knew she should let the conversation drop. They were near her home, but she couldn’t let him go so easily. Keeping her gaze on his she said, “Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“I want to thank you for kissing me.”
“Isabella. Don’t thank me for something I shouldn’t have done. I was just lecturing Gretchen for being involved in inappropriate behavior with a man and felt like the worst kind of scoundrel doing so when I’ve been just as guilty.”
“How so?” she asked innocently.
He gave a short laugh. “Have you forgotten so quickly our passionate embrace in Gleningwold’s garden or what we shared in your own home? We’ve shared a bit more than kisses.”
“But you didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do,” she insisted defiantly. “And don’t forget there is a big difference between your sister and me.”
“And what is that?”
“
One, I am three years older and, therefore, more worldly and wiser.”
He laughed. “Ah, well now, three years. That does make a difference.”
She gave him an impatient sigh. “I’m serious. Don’t tease me about this, Daniel.”
“Don’t give me reason to make fun of you. Three years older is hardly a reason. In a lot of ways, the most important ways, you are still as innocent as Gretchen. You are going to have to come up with something better than that.”
“And I have something more for you,” she said, adding indignation to all the other things she was currently feeling because of him. “Gretchen wants to make a match and I don’t.”
“That doesn’t make our passionate kisses the right thing to have done.”
“If you hadn’t kissed me, I might have never been kissed. And I’m glad I will now have that memory for the rest of my life.”
“What do you mean, you might never have been kissed? Of course you would have and you will be again once you are properly wed.”
“I don’t plan to marry,” she said, even though she knew she’d told him that before. It somehow seemed important to tell him again.
“Perhaps you should rethink your vow to remain a spinster.”
“Why should I?”
“Because you are a very passionate woman, Isabella, and your passion should be shared with a man—your husband.”
The only thing she heard him say was that she was a passionate woman, and for some reason that made her feel delicious inside. “You think so? You think I am passionate?”
“Oh, yes. No doubt about that.”
“But as a spinster my aunt has more freedom than a married woman who has to answer to a husband about where she goes and what she does. Very much like a father controls a child’s life. I don’t think I would like that very much.”
“Yes, but a spinster does not get kisses at night or in the mornings,” he countered.
“Hmm. The mornings, too?”
Daniel laughed. “When you are wed you can kiss your husband anytime that you want to.”
Isabella’s brows drew together in contemplation. She had really enjoyed his kisses and caresses. “That is something to think about. Daniel, do all men’s kisses feel the same?”
He cleared his throat and thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Probably not. No, I’m sure not,” he said looking as if he didn’t know which of the answers he gave was the correct one. “Why do you ask?”
“I’ve never had trouble rebuffing a man until I met you, and I find it difficult to resist you. I never wanted to kiss a man until I met you.”
“This is not a conversation we should be having, Isabella, and this is one of the reasons we must not see each other again. We talk too freely with each other.”
“Why can’t we have this conversation? Why is honesty not allowed between us?”
He looked away for a moment before turning to study her face again. “It’s not that. I want only honesty between us. It’s Society’s rules, and to live in Society we must obey their rules. We are to behave in a certain way, and you and I have not been following the rules. I take full responsibility for that.”
“I accept my own responsibility.”
The carriage stopped in front of her house, but if Daniel noticed, he didn’t indicate it.
“Fine, but I don’t want you hurt by anything I might talk you into doing.” He leaned in closer to her and softly said, “I can assure you that I want to kiss you much more than you want me to, but the way I want to kiss you should only be done if we are wed.”
“Marriage between us is not in the plans,” she assured him.
“No, Isabella. It’s not.”
Fourteen
He broke all the rules for her.
Daniel Colebrooke, Earl of Colebrooke, had turned into a thief and a marauder of innocent young ladies’ respectability. What the hell had happened to him? He was an earl. And that title demanded certain responsibilities, which he promptly ignored every time he was with the delectable Isabella.
Daniel sat at a table in a darkened corner of White’s hoping no one would see him. He wanted to be alone with his decanter of claret and his thoughts before he had to go to the first party of the evening.
He’d come to the club hoping to ponder what he’d learned from Throckmorten’s journal, but he’d spent more time thinking about Isabella than about the dead man’s gambling habits.
There had been no surprise when he’d found his cousin’s name in the book. Bradford was probably in everyone’s gambling book, including the establishment where Daniel was sitting.
He downed the rest of the claret in his glass and poured himself another drink. There were names he’d found in Throckmorten’s journal that he hadn’t expected, like Thomas Wright’s. Although Tom didn’t owe the man a large amount, he was still indebted to him.
It was a bit of a surprise to see Lord Gleningwold’s name in there, too, considering Throckmorten was killed in his garden. And it was Throckmorten who owed the earl a substantial sum. Daniel just couldn’t picture the jovial earl as a killer.
Chilton Cummerford was also listed in the book. He’d been paying Throckmorten once a month for the better part of a year. He must have lost a great deal of money to the man in a card game. No doubt that was the reason that Chilton had visited Throckmorten’s.
He’d like to know why Chilton had kept that information from him when Daniel had questioned him about Throckmorten.
Daniel really didn’t know what to make of it all. He’d sat down and made a list of all the men who were in the journal who were present at Gleningwold’s party the night Throckmorten was killed. The number was less than a dozen, but that seemed like too many when you were trying to narrow it down to one.
He’d made up his mind to seek the help of a runner from Bow Street. He knew that Isabella was caught up in the intrigue of Throckmorten’s death, but Daniel’s only concern was that Gretchen’s name not be connected to the dead man’s.
A couple of gentlemen walked by laughing, and Daniel looked up from his drink. He should probably be going. He picked up his glass and took another sip. Isabella returned to his mind.
He remembered the way Isabella looked earlier in the afternoon when she took off her disguise. She was stunning. Her face had been flushed from the sun, her golden blond hair was tangled attractively, and her eyes shone like gemstones.
He’d been so tempted to take her in his arms and kiss her that he thought he was going to have to sit on his hands to keep from embracing her right in front of anyone who might be on the street. He’d wanted more than anything in the world at that moment to show Society that he didn’t give a damn about their rules. The only problem with doing that was that he did care.
At times like this, Daniel wished he was still just a second son. He hadn’t wanted to become the earl. He wished his brother were still alive and taking care of Gretchen and all the affairs of the title. But fate had made him an earl, and he had to take his responsibilities seriously.
Isabella was charming and he liked the way she made him feel. He enjoyed being with her, but how could he continue to see her? One day she was helping him plan devious acts, and the next day she was entertaining her Wallflowers Society. He couldn’t allow her to continue to be involved in such unsavory situations as gambling debts and a murder even though she seemed more than capable of taking care of herself.
Most young ladies he’d known over the years would have fainted or acted as Gretchen had if they saw a dead man, but Isabella had been completely in control and had immediately seen to Gretchen. He liked that she spoke intelligently. She’d impressed him earlier today when she wanted honesty between them.
Daniel had never worried that she’d hide anything from him concerning her feelings for him. He no longer thought she was up to mischief with her free thinking. She was merely caught up in the excitement and suspense of wanting to know who killed Throckmorten.
The only thing he was sure of was that
he wanted her. He’d wanted her for days now. He wanted to take her in his arms and once again feel the shape of her body beneath his hands. He wanted to taste the depth of her mouth and her satiny smooth skin.
He remembered the way his body responded when he’d held her, the way her mouth responded to his, the way her softness rose up to meet his hardness. He thought of the pleasurable sigh that had floated past his lips at how she made him feel.
Still, he’d had no choice but to tell her she couldn’t continue helping him look into Throckmorten’s murder. Every time he saw her, he wanted to kiss her, and she was unconventional enough to let him. He didn’t know how to treat a young lady of quality who had no fear of losing her reputation.
Daniel sipped his drink again. Isabella was driving him insane with wanting her. He hadn’t planned to take a new mistress when he came to London. His plan was to find a wife, but it looked as if he was going to have to seek out a mistress because Isabella had him so tied up in knots he couldn’t keep his hands off her. And that could only lead to disaster.
Society was made up of two kinds of women. Those you married and those you didn’t. He had to make sure that Isabella remained one of the first and find a mistress for the latter.
***
Isabella and her aunt stepped out of the carriage at the home of the first party they were attending for the evening. The sky was clear of clouds, and there was a breezy crispness to the air that made the night feel springtime beautiful.
“Are you sure you are all right, Isabella?” her aunt questioned as they made their way to the front door of the house. “You don’t have that glow you’ve had the past several days.”
“I’m certain I’m fine, Auntie,” Isabella said in a voice as light as she could make it.
She hated fibbing to her aunt, but she couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. She wasn’t fine. She wanted to be a part of Daniel’s life and the adventure of looking for a murderer.
“Are you unhappy with the gown I picked out for you to wear?”
Isabella looked down at her pearl-white gown with three banded satin flounces. It was a bit overdone for Isabella, but she really didn’t mind wearing it since her aunt had been so happy with her choice.
