“It’s a compliment. David thought of him as blood, and you could make it a reality.” He stepped forward again but kept a more polite distance and thumbed the tassel hanging off her fan. A low growl erupted from Aaron, loud enough for Pena to turn around and give him a quizzical glance. He inclined his head back to the group, trying to signal to the older man that he ought to do his damned job.
“I really hope we can all come to an understanding, no matter whom you choose.” The eldest brother’s voice was oddly rough, almost emotional, as he slipped next to Louis, blocking Aaron’s view. “Even if my preference for your future husband is a touch biased.”
“I hope that too, very much.” Isabelle’s voice, in turn, remained cool and detached. “And we do appreciate your support.” Her dark hair gleamed onyx beneath the chandelier lights as she slid both hands behind her back. “No matter what happens, I also believe the festivals will benefit us all. We’re reaffirming once again that both our families put the community first, even if we no longer live in Aldgate, court gentile clientele, and attend the synagogues less regularly. That we still care and can still lead.”
“Yes, we certainly do and can. Better than most.” Roger’s voice was equally even as he leaned away from Isabelle and toward her grandmother. “I appreciate that we all still agree on that. Though I truly do believe we can agree on so much more.”
Oh, I’m sure you do, Aaron thought silently—or so he had believed until Pena’s elbow came in contact with his ribs.Ow.He rubbed the spot and glared at the man.
“Think carefully about how you want the future to look, and make your decisions accordingly—that’s my advice. We are certainly operating under that strategy.” The oldest brother’s tone was grim. “And best of luck to you, Miss Isabelle.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a polite, formal curtsy. “Thank you all. No matter what, I look forward to our continued partnership.”
“Yes,” her grandmother said, a bright smile on her face. “I am sure we can all come to an agreement soon, assuring that both families will live happily ever after.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure.” The man did not smile, but he gave her a small bow before strolling out, head held high, his brothers flanking him.
Aaron glanced at Isabelle, who was now nodding as her grandmother furiously whispered in her ear. Her face tightened as something unreadable flickered in her dark brown eyes, but she then lifted her chin defiantly, accepting the woman’s arm and strolling back to a crowd of well-heeled young men, each with powerful families of their own.
What was that? And who were they? And why did her grandmother’s statement sound suspiciously like a ketubah was already being negotiated?
Aaron frowned. If that was true, why would Isabelle have hired him? And have him look into Ashkenazi men? Was another game afoot? His chest tightened as he glanced back at the woman herself. Not that the situation was his business. He was merely a henchman there for a specific job, not her actual friend. Thus, what did it matter if she hadn’t told him everything about the situation?
She was now speaking to a group of poorer families, tradesmen and their wives. Her smile, however, was just as broad and natural as it had been for the rabbis.
As they strode away, her grandmother again whispered in her ear. Isabelle turned and embraced her companion, her eyes shining with warmth. She said something he couldn’t make out, but the clear love and admiration on both women’s faces made Aaron’s heart squeeze.
Despite being rather ruthless, Isabelle clearly loved her family and the community and would do right by both. Thus, whomever she actually married was none of his concern. She was paying him for information on six specific men, nothing more and nothing less. After that, well, there would be no reason for either of them to think of the other again. He needed to remember that.
After bidding the final guests farewell, Isabelle and Rebecca trudged upstairs to her private sitting room. And while her friend yawned and retired to the pink guest room after just a few sips of milk, Isabelle had remained wide awake. For a full half hour, she and Baron paced the stones before her fire, first going over old research files and her father’s contract notes, then just walking. However, her mind refused to quiet. The dog, though, fell into a sleepy heap, leaving her completely alone.
With a sigh, Isabelle tied a dressing gown over her night rail and crept down the hall, past her grandmother’s rooms, to the small bedchamber adjacent to the one that had belonged to her father.
With her usual three raps, she knocked on the door.
The hinges swung open to reveal Pena, his shirt hastily buttoned but still somehow uncreased, his boots already on his feet. He rubbed his eyes. “You should be asleep.”
She bit her lip. He probably had been, despite now being fully dressed. She shouldn’t disturb him. But she was selfish, and he was one of the few people who could understand. Had always understood.
“I find I can’t.” She pushed open the folds of fabric to reveal the sheathed stiletto she still wore. “Will you indulge me?”
“Have I ever not?” He dipped back into the room.
“Never.” She followed him, sweeping through the doorway.
“So what you’re saying is that the fact you’re a spoiled beast is my fault alone?” He yawned, the crinkles beside his eyes deepening.
“Father helped a smidge.” She squeezed her thumb and forefinger together. “Though I’ve always known who to ask if I wanted my way with no resistance.”
“What shall it be tonight? Your dagger, or something a bit more challenging?” He moved to the space where he kept his own weapons, and opened the vast cabinet holding the collection.
Isabelle hesitated. The single two-handed sword, her weakest dueling option, would tire her earliest. However, she was not quite in the mood to lose. “Two swords,” she replied instead.
He gave her a nod. “You want to actually work instead of playing with the cloak?”
“It comes with a dagger.” Her special one. From him. She stroked the metal next to her skin. “And it requires as much skill as the others.”
“It doesn’t challenge you.” Pena adjusted his collar as he glanced in the mirror. Did he see his face as it was now, or the way it’d been before they’d lost her father, when they were both still men in their prime, invincible and in love?
