Sadly, or perhaps thankfully, there had been no further card games in the evening. And yet, thesensual dreams thatbeganinvadingher sleeping hourswerejustas strong as ever.
Surely, with no evidence to suggest that Simon was even in the area, she might be ableto leave the castle for ashorttime, even if she had to contend with Mr. Claymoore’s brooding presence.
Thus, whenEthelmentioned going into the villageto gatherafew things from the market,Isabellahad immediately perked up. But when she approached the older womanwith the prospectof joining her,Ethel’smouth had drawn down in regret. “Oh,Mr. Claymoorewouldn’t approveof that. He is quite adamant about you leaving the castle.”
Isabella was momentarily deflated, but as an idea formed in her head, she said,“In that case, Imayhave a solution to theproblem.”
Mrs. Hopper looked at her curiously, but Isabella headed out in search of her quarry.
She found Ridge a short time later. He was pruning the hedges with Herb. Her face warmed when she saw that his white shirt was open to the center of his chest and rolled up to the elbows, the sweat from his labor dampening the rest, where it clung to his body like a second skin. He truly was a magnificent man.
But she put such thoughts aside, to be locked away in her imaginationthatnight. Knowing that he preferred a direct approach, she said, “I’d like to go with Mrs. Hopper to the village.”
“I don’t see a problem with that.” Her spirits lifted. “Over my dead body,” he added. And herhopescrashed back to the earth.
“Even if you were to escort us?”
He blew out a heavy breath. “We’ve gone over this before—”
“I realize that,” sheinterrupted. “But I don’t intend to be recognized.”
“The answer isno.” With that, he turned back to what he’d been doing,obviously intendingthat to be the end of the subject.
Isabella wouldn’t be dissuaded. She reached out and dared to touch his exposed forearm. His muscles jumped beneath her touch, but otherwise, he didn’t move. “Please, Mr. Claymoore. I promise that I won’t bother you after today. I just need to get out of these walls, if for a short while. You told me that I wasn’t a prisoner here, and for the past week I’ve abided by your wishes. But nothing has happened. Simon hasn’t even tried to contact me. All I know is that if I remain insidethiscold stone for one more day I’m going to be…”She paused totry tofind the right word to express her anxiety. In the end, she whispered, “Suffocated.”
She swallowed hard. “I know you still believe that my husband means to enact some sort of additional revenge, but he’s already taken everything from me. Hesurelycan’t want anything else.”
She held her breath as she waited for him to say something. In the end, he frownedandgestured toherred hair. “And how might you manage tohidethat?”
She smiled broadly, relief flowing through her veins. “I have a solution to that.Follow me.”
Heeyed herwarily, but did as she asked.She just prayed that she could convince him that her plan would work.
It didn’t take her long to find her maid. She had taken to sitting in the salon when she sewed. “Claudia. Would you stand up for a moment?” Shehad already told the girl her idea, so she immediately rose to her feet, and then Isabellalooked atMr. Claymoore. “We’re ofasimilar height and build. Themarkeddifference is our hair, which will becovered withabonnet.”
He stood before them with a critical expression. “What about your faces?”
Isabella had already thought of thattoo. “I’ll make sure and keep the brim pulled low.”
But for all her arguments,she could tell hewasn’tfullyconvinced,for hismouthwasset in a grim line.
“If it will make you feel better, we’ll test our theory on Mr. Hopper before we go.”
She held her breath whilehe appeared to think it over.After an interminable length of time, he sighed heavily.“Fine. But make it quick, and don’t expect to tarry when we’re gone.”
Isabella clapped her hands together as she rusheddownthe stairs, practically dragging her maid behind her. In her chamber, they hastily changed gowns. Once Claudiahad donnedIsabella’smuslin day dress and she was wearingthe maid’s simple gray gown, it really was hard to tell them apart, except that Isabella’s bosom wasa bitlarger. Even so,it wasn’t enough todraw attention to the factthatthey had switched identities.
Mr. Claymoore was waiting for them in the hall, and together, they all returned to the kitchens.Mrs. Hopper was stillthere,andas if divine providence haddecided to intercede, her husbandwaspresentas well.
Herbglanced up whenthe trio walked in and offered a smile.“And where might you be off to, Lady Isabella?”heasked. Isabellaopened her mouth toanswer himbutrealized that he wasn’tactually addressingher.
“I thought I’d take a turn in the inner courtyard,” Claudia replied politely, trying to mimic her mistress’ voice.
Mr. Hopper shook his head. “It’s certainly a lovely enough day for it.Perhaps I might even join you.”
Claudia glanced at Isabella, although she replied, “I’d like that.”
As hewent back outside,Mr. Claymoore’s mouth tightened. “Thatreallydoesn’t prove anything. Herb’s eyesight isn’t what it used to be.”
