Carefully, Damien disengaged Isabella from his arms and gently pushed her away from his overheated body. She staggered a bit when deprived of his strong embrace but remained on her feet. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The sleepy, dreamlike quality in her lovely violet eyes disappeared the moment she saw the earl’s rigidly controlled body and stern, unsmiling face. Her cheeks flamed with color and she hastily dropped her eyes to the carpet.
“You are not Emmeline,” the earl stated unnecessarily.
“I am not Emmeline,” Isabella repeated. Her breathing was still a trifle uneven, and she had not yet fully recovered from his devastating kisses.
Damien took a few steps away from her, needing to physically distance himself from her warm body.
“Bloody hell! What a damnable mess.”
Damien ran his fingers through his dark hair and cursed again. How could he have been so wrong? Too little sleep and too much brandy, he admitted ruefully. “Naturally I shall accompany you back to the Brauns’ house and somehow try to explain all of this.”
“I am afraid it has gone too far for that, my lord.”
Damien’s apologetic expression altered slightly at Isabella’s reply. “What exactly do you want me to do, Miss . . . Miss . . ?”
“Browning.”
“Yes, Miss Browning.”
Isabella shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t really know.”
Damien’s face clouded and he felt his temper begin to rise. “It would be helpful if you could decide quickly, Miss Browning. Since my reason for confronting Lord Poole no longer exists, I prefer not to remain in his house.”
“Need I remind you, my lord,” Isabella answered in a cool tone, “this situation was not my doing. I told you repeatedly I was not your wife. Due to your obstinacy, I no longer have a position to return to!”
“I have already offered to make amends, Miss Browning, and you have refused my assistance. I fear you leave me no choice. My coach and driver are at your disposal. When you finally decide precisely where you wish to go, you may inform my servants.” With hands clenched into tight fists by his sides, the earl made a curt, stiff bow. “Good afternoon, Miss Browning.”
Isabella lifted her chin in response, then watched with wide-eyed dismay as the earl turned on his heel and marched purposefully from the room. It took a few moments for the events to register in her shocked mind. That arrogant, willful man had dragged her unwillingly to this strange house and had now abandoned her here.
Chapter Five
The elegant coach traversed the crowded London streets in a random manner. Isabella sat alone inside, barely noticing the milling crowds and variety of hackneys, carts, and carriages clogging the road.
The overcast skies of the early afternoon had fulfilled their promise of rain and a steady drizzle prevailed. The smell of wet pavement filled Isabella’s nostrils and she sighed. The dull, gray weather matched her mood.
She had remained in Lord Poole’s town house only long enough to rebind her hair and secure her bonnet on her head. Then she raced out of the house, offering no explanation to the astonished servants. She escaped to the safety of the earl’s carriage, which was patiently awaiting her arrival, just as the earl had promised. As soon as she gained her seat inside the carriage, Isabella instructed the coachman to drive away. Since she gave no specific instructions as to her destination, the coach had been meandering about the city for the past hour.
“Should I drive down Bond Street, miss?” The coachman called down to her. “It’s a bit crowded, but not impassable.”
Isabella leaned near the half-opened window and yelled, “Bond Street would be fine.”
She settled back against the comfortable squabs and forced herself to face reality. She could not very well continue driving around London in the earl’s carriage for the rest of the day. She needed to make some important decisions about her future, and time was running short.
Isabella bit her lip nervously and admitted to herself that she was frightened. Her prospects for employment were dim, especially without proper references. It would most likely take her several weeks, perhaps even months, to find a suitable position. And London was an expensive city to live in given her meager savings.
Isabella knew she would have no choice but to return to her grandfather’s estate in York while searching for a new post. Even though her mother’s family had amply demonstrated their lack of regard for her, she knew they would not deny her temporary shelter. As much as it rankled her to ask for her family’s help, Isabella knew she could ill afford to allow her pride to override her common sense in this instance.
Her decision reached, Isabella tapped on the roof of the carriage to attract the driver’s attention.
“Take me to the nearest posting inn, please,” she requested. “I need to catch the next available coach traveling north.”
The coach made a sharp left turn and all too soon stopped. Isabella glanced speculatively out the window and was pleased to note that the establishment they had arrived at looked well-maintained. She sincerely hoped it would not be too long a wait for the mail coach to depart. No matter how respectable an establishment appeared, a woman traveling alone was often the target of unwanted attention.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly to the young footman. who assisted her out of the carriage. Turning around to pull out her satchel, she cast a final longing glance inside the luxurious coach. It would have been heavenly to ride to York inside this comfortable vehicle. Isabella spitefully wished it were possible, knowing it would infuriate the earl to have his carriage disappear for several days.
It seemed a fitting revenge to take the coach the earl so rudely placed at her disposal halfway across England, and Isabella was. sorely tempted to commandeer the carriage, but her lack of funds prevented her from doing so. She did not have the necessary coin to provide food and lodging for herself, the servants, or even the horses on a journey as far as York.
As she took her final leave, Isabella gave the three male servants a curt nod of farewell and boldly began walking toward the entrance of the inn.
