She started to move away, buthereachedout and graspedher arm. When she looked expectantly at him, he saidgently,“Don’t base all of your knowledge on those London dandies. There are menout there who are genuine andworthy of your affection, Lady Isabella.”
She smiled almost wistfully. “Just not someone like you.”
***
Isabella had meant the statement as a general one regardingmen of his class,but something abruptly shifted in his face. His jaw hardened,and he straightened from his relaxed pose, his dark eyes intent as he looked at her.
She feared she’d made an error and upset him, so she started to say,“Pardon me, Mr. Claymoore, I didn’t mean—”
“No, Lady Isabella,” he interrupted. “You’re absolutely right. Men like me don’t marry, we don’t fall in love, and we certainly don’t compare to men like Wistenberry.”
She frowned. “That’s not what I—”
“Meet me here at eleven o’clock tonight if you want to goto the beach.” Hebroke in curtly.
She blinked, the swift change in topic making her head spin. “I thought you said it was too dangerous?”
His eyes glittered.“I will be going with you.”
She swallowed heavily,imagining the two of them together in such close proximityat such a late hour, but managed to nod her head. “Of course.”When he would have left her, sheadded, “Thank you, Mr. Claymoore.”
Hepausedthenturned his head to the side. “You’re welcome.”
Isabella watched him walk away,still rather confused about what had just happened. For a man that could be rather maddening, she was starting to believe that what Mrs. Hopper said was true, that he was truly a decent human being.After all, he’d not only apologized for his crude actions that morning, but he was extending his atonement by offering the one thing she’d asked for.
That had to mean something, surely?
She also had to keep in mind that Mr. Claymoore hadgrown up in a brothel, andthenlived among sailors and criminals for most of his life,soit was no wonderifhe was a bit gruff around the edges.
At least he was right about one thing. He wasn’t like Simon—or any of the other menwhoparaded about London. But something told her he was even more honorable. She firmly believed that hedid hisjob without any sort ofexpectation of a rewardorrecognition.He was a spy because he enjoyed it—itwas what hewantedto do.
Although he might not express his agitation to her, she had to imagine that it was hard for him to cool his heels at the castle when he was yearning to be back in action. This entire ordeal was certain to be a learning experience for both of them, but they would have to find some way to coexist, for God only knew how long they would have to wait for Simon to appear.
***
Isabella spent most of the afternoonlooking through the books that Lord Liverpool had on his shelves, but she wasn’t really in the mood to read about economicsor philosophywhenshe was looking forward to tonightwith such eagerness.She could hardly contain her excitement,forthesheerjoy of reverting back tosomething she enjoyed so much fromher childhoodwasas palpable as a drug.
She had always mourned the loss of those coveted trips to Brighton,forthey had ceased once she’d been old enough to begin her deportment lessons to become a proper lady. Everything had changed,andshe’dhad to make time for dancing, watercolors, embroidery, and theendlesslist of other things her mother had set before her.It had been dull in the extreme, when all she’d wanted to do was immerse herself under the water.
There was a certainthrillshe had of gliding through the waves,a sense of freedomin blockingout the rest of the world.
She sighed in delight and proceeded to count down the hours.
That evening, she sat down tosupper with Mr. and Mrs. Hopper and Claudia in theservants’dining room. Mr. Claymoore was conspicuously absent, but Herb had mentioned that they had been working in the stables for most of the day. While that explained where he’d been, she wondered ifRidgealways kept to himself. If so, she imagined he led a very lonely life, indeed.
After dinner, Isabella and Claudia sat and chatted until theappointed hour arrivedat long last. While Isabelladidn’t have a proper bathing dress, her maid lent her one of her serviceablegraygowns. The material was thicker than most of Isabella’s muslins andwould go far topreserve her modesty.Besides, it would be dark and it wasn’t as though she had to worry about her reputation as an unmarried woman any longer.
But then, it wasn’t as if she really cared.
With her long hair in athick plaitand a simple pair of slippers on her feet, Isabellawent downstairsandmade her way to the darkened gardens.Usingthe moonlight and the twinkling stars overhead as her guide, it wasn’t hard to findMr. Claymoore waiting for her, as promised.
He turned as she drew closer and her heart slammed against her ribcage. He wore a pair of buff trousers anda simple, white lawn shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and opened at the throat, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of his broad chest.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded and he took her hand and led her across the grounds. It was a simple enough gesture,yetIsabella couldn’t help but feel as though she truly was that carefree girl again,perhaps evena different woman altogether,running off for a secret rendezvous with one of her suitors.That was a nice thought, asshe’dnever had many members of the opposite sex show her that much interest. She’d always been too shy and awkward to gain their notice. Which was why she’dleapedat the chance to entertain those youthful fantasies about Simon.
But since she refusedto havethat reminderdampen her spirits, the moment they reached the sandy beach, she pulled on her escort’s hand. “Wait.”
