Page 64 of Lord of Loyalty

She turned to him, her eyes bright. “When could we go?”

“As soon as your affairs here are concluded. You may keep Goody Cooper to manage Marston House in your absence—I’ll find another housekeeper. I’m sure Mistress Mathieson keeps a very good house.”

Excellent—she was laughing. Though she’d not mentioned it, he understood the loss of her hair made her unwilling to seek company. He could bury himself in the country, away from court intrigue and scandals, and she could live in quiet obscurity while her hair—and her confidence—grew back.

But there were one or two things that still needed to be settled.

Releasing her hand, he got to his feet. “I’m wearied. Shall you tell the servants they may shut up the house and retire for the night?”

“Aye.” She tilted her head, looking at him intently as if suspecting him of having an ulterior motive. Which, of course, he had.

He gave what he hoped was an innocent smile. “But please return when you’ve spoken to them—I have something to give you.”

Her cheeks pinked charmingly as she left the room, and he returned to his seat, unable to wipe the smug grin from his face. It looked as if the dice were finally loaded in his favor. Reaching into the space between his doublet and the clean shirt he’d borrowed from Edward’s clothes press, he pulled out a folded object, wrapped in linen. It was the green silk ribbon he’d bought for Isobel at the country fair—how long ago that seemed now!

He wondered how Maybury had managed with his attempt to rescue Paulina Mathieson from the Comte de Velors—he hadn’t even told Isobel about that yet. It seemed unimportant compared with his current mission.

Before her return, he extinguished all but two of the candles and the walls of the room seemed to close in around him, wrapping him in a warm cocoon. Perfect. He needed her to feel relaxed and secure.

When she came back, the color in her cheeks was still there, and she moved awkwardly, stiffly, avoiding eye contact with him. Crouching by her chair, he unwrapped the ribbon and handed it to her.

“Not much of a gift, mayhap, but it comes from the heart.”

She ran her fingers over the green silk, but her expression remained guarded.

He’d hoped for a more positive reaction. Surely, he could not have misread the signs, the moisture in her eyes earlier, her delight at the thought of accompanying him to the country? Anxious, he placed a gentle finger beneath her chin and tipped her lovely face to look at him. Was it a trick of the light, or were those tears brimming in her eyes?

“I had not expected my love token to be a harbinger of melancholy.” He gave her a shaky smile, but her lips drooped. Whatever was wrong?

Then realization hit him.

He rose, pulling her into his arms. “I am the greatest, stupidest, blindest fool in Christendom. Please forgive me, my darling Isobel. Yes, I bought that ribbon for your hair. I have kept it next to my heart ever since, awaiting the right moment to present it to you. When I saw your ring was loose, I thought you might use the ribbon to suspend it about your neck, as I have no expectation of taking the ring back. It’s yours now, whatever you choose to do with it. In my eagerness to give you my lover’s token, I quite forgot you had lost your hair.”

“You’ve said that twice now.” Her voice quavered but she wasn’t trying to pull away.

He ran his hands down her arms. “Said what twice?”

“That the ribbon was a lover’s token.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

“That is the simple truth. Don’t you know how precious you are to me? How much I long to know that your heart beats only for me? Dearest, bravest, most beautiful Isobel, only tell me that my feelings are returned.”

He seized and kissed her hand, aware he was trembling. He prayed she could feel it, could read the powerful longing in his eyes. How he ached to kiss her now! But words were more vital than kisses.

“I… I don’t know what you mean, sir.” He read a mixture of joy, doubt and confusion in her face.

“Here.” He removed the ring from her finger and tucked it into his coin purse.

“I regret to deprive you of this, having said you might keep it. But have no fear—I will have it reworked and inscribed by the very best goldsmith, and presented to you again under more auspicious circumstances. Before the altar.”