“There will be a story,” she heard herself say. “It will be published in theLondon Diary.”
Percy touched two fingertips to her lips to stop her from saying more. “Whatever you must do today,” he began, his voice low and gentle, his eyes fast on the side of her face.
She kept her gaze trained on the exposed ceiling rafters. “Yes?”
“Do not hesitate. It’s in hesitation that plans go wrong.”
Isabel understood in an instant. Percy was giving up his quest for revenge against Montfort so she could save her family.
Heartbreak was a physical hurt, she’d never understood that until now. The poets didn’t exaggerate. People perished from this feeling.
“Family is everything,” he continued. “Do what you must to protect yours.”
No longer could she avoid his gaze. “And what of your family?”
“The Bretagnes shall survive it.”
Even as he spoke the words, she detected uncertainty in his eyes. The Bretagnes would survive, yes, but their relationships might not, particularly the one with his daughter. It was too new, too fragile to withstand the burden of scandal that the headline, ‘Savior orSEDUCERof St. Giles?’ would unleash. Lucy would likely hate her father. That Percy would make such a sacrifice . . .
He was a worthy man, noble, not just by birthright, but by his actions.
The emotion Isabel had refused to name surged inside her. So, too, did the anger which had been encased in her shell of unfeeling. No longer could she contain it. None of them deserved this. Not her. Not Percy. Not their families.
Montfort deserved it, though.
How did he keep succeeding in destroying life after life? Where were his consequences? Why didn’t he suffer them?
Do not let Montfort use me as a weapon to manipulate you into doing his bidding. Promise me, cariña.
That instant two truths tumbled down onto Isabel.
First, Montfort wouldn’t keep his word.
Second, she couldn’t destroy the innocent based on a false promise.
The path before her cleared, and she understood what she must do. Andhow. She had held the key since her conversation with Miss Fox yesterday. She simply hadn’t realized it.
She scrambled off the bed and snatched her clothes off the floor before shooting to her feet.
Percy bolted upright, concern shining in his eyes. “What is it?”
“I . . .” she began. Oh, how did she say this without sounding the fool? “I’ve arrived at a solution.”
“You’re going to betray Montfort,” Percy stated. “You’re not the first to make that choice.”
By his tone, she intuited others hadn’t been successful. “But I intend to be the last. He will not have this power over anyone else.Neveragain. You must trust me.”
“It’s not you I don’t trust.”
Isabel kept moving, pulling her chemise over her head, then her corset around her rib cage. She wouldn’t waver from her course. She glanced over her shoulder. “Can you cinch my corset?”
Behind her, she heard Percy rustle to a stand. She felt his presence, his warmth and strength, before his touch. His fingers took up the corset strings, and an unsteady heartbeat loped past as she sensed hesitation. Anticipation flared. It was all she could do not to arch her lower back into his hand.
The next instant, he tugged the strings and had them knotted, business-like. She pulled on her dress and allowed him to fasten that, too.
Dressed and set to leave, at last, she faced him, one final time to drink him in. He’d donned his trousers, but his lean, muscular torso was bare and nearly stole her resolve. Couldn’t they stay in this loft forever, the world beyond be damned?
He cocked his hip against the wall, and a tousled lock of hair flopped across his forehead.Dios mío, the man didn’t know hownotto be devastating.
