Page 25 of Isabel and the Rogue

Lord Westhope had noticed, though. He sat close to Isabel’s side, the admiration clear on his face as he looked at her. Sirius could respect a man who was honest and open about his feelings.

But he still wanted to punch the viscount in the jaw.

Remembering his good manners, Sirius waited for Westhope’s curricle to pull abreast of him. Tipping his hat in greeting and trading brief pleasantries, Sirius allowed himself to turn his attention to Isabel.

“What book did you mention?” he asked.

“The Woman in White,” she said, lifting a brow as if to indicate he should have remembered.

And he did. While they had exchanged brief thoughts in passing on any number of books the summer she and her sisters stayed at Dancourt Abbey, it was The Woman in White that had sparked an extended conversation between them. When he’d spied Isabel slipping the book back onto his shelf, Sirius asked what she thought of the story, and to his surprise, she seemed eager to discuss it. They proceeded to engage in a full discourse over the intense, frightening feel of the book, including the larger social commentary on women, especially married women in society. They also touched on the changing points of view, and how the various voices made the reader feel off-kilter. Isabel had remarked that the narrative felt almost like an inquest, as if each narrator were a witness being interviewed about what they knew of the crime. Sirius had thought it an insightful observation, and he still did, often remembering that afternoon discussion with fondness.

“Ah.” He nodded, releasing Isabel’s gaze to turn to the viscount. “It was a compelling book, and if you decide to read it, Miss Luna has perceptive thoughts about it. I appreciated the story and the storytelling more after discussing it with her.”

Isabel dropped her chin, but not before Sirius spied the scarlet that swept across her cheeks.

“Well, now I’m determined to read it,” Westhope declared, slapping his glove on his thigh. “I find I’m not at all surprised Miss Luna has clever opinions about the book. She is a fount of knowledge and interesting ideas.”

Doing his best to ignore how Gabby smirked openly at him, Sirius couldn’t stop himself from considering Isabel. Her expression was neutral, but she seemed to sit a bit straighter.

“It would do you well, Westhope, not to take any of the Luna ladies for granted.” Warmth bloomed in his chest when Isabel met his gaze. “For just when you think you have them figured out, they surprise you.”

Gabby’s answering laugh was just this side of wicked. “Captain Dawson, you’re spoiling the game. Don’t you know that Isa and I covet that look of surprise that crosses men’s faces when they learn how foolish they’ve been to underestimate us?”

“I’ve spoiled nothing,” Sirius retorted, propping his elbow on the saddle pommel and leaning toward her with a grin. “Westhope is trustworthy, and will not disclose your secrets.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, Dawson,” the viscount said, nodding magnanimously. The effect was ruined, though, when he barked a laugh. “Rest assured, Miss Gabriela, that I wouldn’t dream of ruining your fun, especially because I, too, believe I would enjoy seeing the face of any man who underestimated you and your sister.”

Lord Westhope and Gabriela continued to trade quips, and while Sirius would normally have joined the banter, it did not hold his attention. Instead, he watched Isabel surreptitiously from the corner of his eye as her head swiveled back and forth between her sister and the viscount, an exasperated indentation between her brows.

Why were she and Gabby alone with Lord Westhope anyway, and on a lesser traversed park path? If Sirius didn’t know the man to be honorable, he would be concerned to find the two young women alone in his company. In truth, he was concerned. Sirius had noticed that Isabel appeared uncomfortable in crowds, and the park at this time was a crush. So why would she consent to ride out with Westhope at this time of day? Had she not had a choice? Perhaps Lady Yardley insisted she go, for Westhope was an eligible, titled bachelor. He would need to ask Fox what he knew of the ladies’ relationship with the viscountess, because Sirius would hate himself if—

“I beg your pardon, Captain Dawson, but did you hear me?”

Jerking his head back, Sirius blinked as his gaze settled on Westhope, who was staring at him with a frown.

“Please excuse me.” He yanked on his lapels. “You caught me woolgathering.”

“I wonder what about,” Gabby said, a knowing lilt to her tone.

Isabel narrowed her eyes. “Gabby, really. Some of us find our thoughts captured by all sorts of things.”

“Is that right?” Lord Westhope turned to face her, that damn smile overtaking his face. “What sort of things ensnare your attention, Miss Luna?”

Before Isabel could respond, Sirius cleared his throat. Loudly. “What was it you were saying, my lord?”

“Oh yes. Right.” Squaring his shoulders, Westhope swept his gaze over the three of them. “Invitations have not gone out yet, but I wanted you to be the first to know that I’ve decided to open Westhope House for a ball the week after next, and I would be quite happy if you all were my guests.”

His muscles locked at the viscount’s words. Not because he was surprised or even exasperated by the idea of attending yet another ball, but rather because Isabel had proven herself to be a snoop at such events. Would she take this as her opportunity to search the viscount’s home? Would such activities even be possible with Lord Westhope paying her such special attentions?

His gaze immediately collided with Isabel’s. Defiance lurked in her bottomless eyes, as if she knew the train of his thoughts, and suspicion set Sirius’s teeth on edge.

“We would be honored to attend, Lord Westhope.” The corner of her mouth tipped up. “Nothing would make me happier.”

Sirius bit back a growl.

7

After canceling his evening plans, and in no mood to don his jovial mask when he was feeling anything but, Sirius paced about his library for most of the evening. His mind replayed his conversation with Lord Westhope earlier that afternoon, and what Isabel’s taunting expression could mean. Christ, that woman seemed hell-bent on finding trouble, and he really should just let her have at it.