Page 33 of Lord of Loyalty

There was a rattling at the window, accompanied by a dull roar. A summer squall had arrived. How fitting that the heavens should choose this moment to weep—they mirrored her mood exactly. She shivered.

“You’re cold. Shall I light your fire? Nay, by the time it gives off heat, we’ll have finished our conversation. Let me warm you.”

To her delight and shock, Will pulled her towards him, placed an arm around her shoulders and drew her counterpane over them both. Her resistance lasted less than a heartbeat. She snuggled into his warmth, sliding a hand across his stomach to his waist, savoring the firmness of the muscle there.

She felt him draw in a breath, and raised her head. He was watching her, his expression unreadable, as the candlelight gilded one side of his face and turned his hair to glowing gold. Her whole body became alert, waiting for some sign. But would she recognize it if it came? Could they risk there being more than companionship between them?

“Isobel, have you any female relations or friends who could join you here? I would not have your reputation sullied. And if I am to fall prey to these blackmailers, I would wish the world to know you’re guiltless of any complicity in my sins.”

“A chaperone?” It was rather late for that. A chaperone would not permit such intimacy as this. Which wouldn’t do at all, as she was enjoying Will’s closeness too much.

He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Such warm fingers! She quivered, and his arm flexed around her shoulders.

“It would serve our purpose better if I had nothing to hide. So, you cannot remain here disguised as a servant, and the only way to live openly with me is if you are accompanied by a respectable older woman.”

Or if she was his mistress. She could live openly with him then.

From whence had that thought come?

“Can you think of anyone at all who would suit? A person of stainless reputation with integrity and an open mind. We would be duty-bound to explain to them all that has happened up until this moment.”

Wrenching her thoughts away from the direction they’d been taking, she struggled to bring to mind who might suit. No one had visited since Edward’s departure—what had Hubert done to keep them away? Had he burned letters from her friends and relations, turned them away at the door? If only she could remember.

“There is Cecelia Hollingsworth. She was a dear friend of my mother’s and used to call regularly. But she dwells some distance away.”

“No matter. Where does she live?”

“Hertford. I’ve been to the house and can show you the way. It’s known as Bay House, after the massive pair of bay trees overshadowing the gates.”

“Has she a husband who could spare her for a while?”

Isobel searched her memory. “He died, I think. I cannot recall when last I saw her. I trust she’s well.”

“I’ll ride north and find her, and convince her to return with me. If I have your agreement?”

If it meant being able to stay here awhile, then yes. And perchance Cecelia, who had always struck her as levelheaded, could stop her doing something decidedly unseemly.

“You have my agreement. I shall be glad to remain under your protection until my cousin has been brought to justice.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Splendid. I’ll leave Manners to watch over you while I’m away. Stir not from here, no matter how convincing a reason you may be given for doing so. Trust only Manners. I’ll order the servants to admit no one until my return, so you’ll not be bombarded by the Mathiesons.”

His fingers caressed her shoulder. Had he any idea he was doing it? Her skin heated where he touched her, a warmth more welcome than any fire. What would happen if she splayed her hand across his stomach, traced the contours of his muscles there?

Her throat grew dry. “The servants will need to be told my true story if they are to understand why I have a chaperone. They’ll think we have used them most ill.”

He grinned. “Mayhap not. They may relish it. ’Tis not every day that a gentlewoman comes among them in disguise. Besides, I’d like to scotch their thought that you are my mistress as soon as I can.”

“Ah. You’ve heard that, too? They said as much on the day of my arrival, having no idea I understood their words. I had hoped they’d changed their opinions.” She was sure nothing in her behavior would have given her away.

What would they believe if they could see Will and her entangled in the bed covers like this? That they were entirely justified in their suspicions, of course.

“I was such a bedraggled waif when I first came here, it surprised me to hear their gossip about us. A man with your advantages wouldn’t look twice at such a one as me.”

“Fie! Anyone with eyes would see your quality. I thought you bewitching when you appeared to be a lunatic—now you are well and your own self again, you are utterly enchanting. I’m surprised my male servants aren’t trailing around after you already.”

“Mayhap I should not stay. I could go with you, throw myself on Cecelia’s mercy and reside a little while with her.” Even though it would tear her heart out to be separated from Will.

His fingers stilled. There was a distinct pause before he said, “Nay, Isobel, that will not serve. I cannot protect you if you decide to stay in Hertfordshire. It is imperative I return to London immediately, to persuade Mathieson to release his stranglehold. Or until the Earl of Leicester is once again the queen’s favorite courtier.”