Page 58 of Isabel and the Rogue

When she realized it had grown late, Sirius escorted her back to Ana María and Gideon’s home, although it was in the opposite direction of his own, and the satchel on his shoulder contained a large stack of books. Sirius bade her goodbye on the front steps, his gaze moving between hers and her lips, and Isabel almost wished he would kiss her, not caring if her sisters saw. Instead, he lightly squeezed her elbow and departed. Isabel followed his retreating back until he turned the corner and disappeared from view, taking a bit of her happy mood with him.

Once she had rejoined her sisters, Isabel learned that she and Gabby had been invited to stay the night and enjoy a big Mexican breakfast in the morning. While she shared Gabby’s excitement for such a treat, Isabel had decided upon other plans as she had watched Sirius walk away. If her sisters were surprised when she politely declined the invitation, they did not show it, and Isabel was grateful.

Now, Isabel waited impatiently in her room at Yardley House for the staff to turn in for the night. It was nearing midnight, and since she and Lady Yardley had stayed in, Isabel was hopeful she would not have to wait much longer. A small pile of books lay scattered across her bed, as she had tried to distract herself among their pages, but her mind would not stop whirling. Since spending the afternoon with Sirius, she had been consumed with turning her carefully considered idea into reality.

The grandfather clock in the foyer announced the midnight hour, and Isabel bit her lip. She’d told herself to linger for a quarter of an hour more, which felt like an excruciating amount of time with her nerves so raw. But Isabel had turned waiting and watching into an art form, so she paced across the floor, quoting lines from “A un samán” by Andrés Bello.

When she was certain the house was still, Isabel wandered to her dressing room, where she donned a dark gown and the same black cloak she wore the night she and her sisters escaped from Mexico City. Pulling her curls into a bun, she slipped a small knife into her pocket. Wandering to the mirror to consider her reflection, Isabel pondered how much her opinion of Sirius had changed in the last couple of months. Oh, he was still the same rogue he’d always been, but now she knew there was much more to him beneath that merry exterior. There existed a man she genuinely liked, whom she enjoyed spending time with, and who seemed to understand her when so often she struggled to understand herself. What surprised her, even now, was that Sirius seemed to like her, too.

Isabel tried to envision what Sirius saw when he looked at her. But all she found was her same old dark eyes, broad nose, and black-as-pitch curls in the mirror. Isabel had always thought her features plain, but perhaps she had been unfair to herself. Hadn’t she caught the attention of a viscount? Didn’t one of London’s most notorious rogues call her remarkable? Isabel certainly didn’t want to tie her confidence to a man and his opinion of her, but perhaps the time had come to finally cast aside her insecurities and embrace the Isabel she’d always wanted to be. Fearless. Resilient. Beautiful. And she would do so tonight.

Peeking into the hallway, Isabel released a quiet sigh to find it empty. Slipping out of the town house several minutes later, Isabel clung to the shadows as she made her way through the Mayfair streets. She was thankful that Sirius’s home was closer than Ana’s and she didn’t have to skulk past where her sisters slumbered. Isabel wrapped her newfound bravery tightly about her shoulders and hoped fervently it was not misplaced.

The town house with the blue door was not hard to locate, and Isabel tucked herself behind a copse of trees in the adjacent park to allow herself time to study it. A row of three windows lined the first and second floors, with two narrow dormer windows situated on top. Unlike at Yardley House or even Ana María’s home, no flower boxes brightened the windows, the blue door and brass knocker the only adornment. Yet it was elegant and stately.

Of course Sirius lived there.

After studying the house for several minutes, Isabel noticed a lamp burned in the far right window, and if she squinted her eyes, she could make out a figure pacing back and forth behind the drapes. That had to be him…right? Her pulse pounded in her head and her palms were clammy, but Isabel did her best to focus on her surroundings. Was there traffic on the road? Was anyone in the windows of the neighboring houses? Confirming her path was clear, Isabel darted across the cobblestone street and tucked herself as best she could in the narrow hedge growing under the window. Ignoring how a branch jabbed her in the back, Isabel curled her fingers over the windowsill and pulled herself up to tug on the window. When it wouldn’t budge, Isabel extracted her knife and made quick work of the lock. Pushing loose strands of hair from her face with the back of her arm, Isabel pressed her hands against the windowpanes to slide it open. Grasping the skirts of her gown, she crawled through the dark window as gracefully as possible, a sigh slipping free when her feet hit the floor.

Suddenly, Isabel was wrenched by an iron grip on her arm, a thick bicep encircling her throat and cutting off any scream she would have emitted. Forcing down her panic, she strained her head back to meet Sirius’s gaze.

• • •

Sirius had just poured another finger of whisky into his glass when a noise outside the window abruptly snagged his attention. Sirius went stone-still, his ears craning to listen for what had disturbed the quiet stillness of the night.

There it was again. A soft rustling of the bushes outside his window. Silently walking to his desk, Sirius extracted a pistol from the top drawer and stealthily made his way to the window, pressing his body flat against the casement. If a robber thought to make a target out of his home, he would not like the reception.

In the dim moonlight creasing through the cracks in the drapes, a shadowy figure appeared from below. Sirius watched with his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth as the person picked the window lock and slid the casement up. Within moments, two feet softly thudded to the floor, and as the figure moved to push the curtain aside, Sirius leapt up and wrapped his arm around their neck.

A string of strangled Spanish words met his ears, and Sirius jerked back in surprise. Hastily depositing his pistol on the desk, he quickly turned to rip the black hood from the figure, stifling a gasp when sable eyes met his.

“Isabel, what in God’s name are you doing here?” he demanded, grasping her shoulders and shaking them.

Her face crumpled in derision, and Isabel yanked herself from his grasp, stumbling to the side. “You don’t have to be so rough.”

“My apologies,” he mumbled, running a hand down his face. “Now answer my question.”

Isabel’s chest rose and fell with her breaths, her eyes darting about but carefully avoiding him. “I—I just—”

Advancing toward her, Sirius crowded her back against the drapes, planting his hands on either side of her head. “I just…what? You were brave enough to come here, in the middle of the goddamn night, so you should be brave enough to tell me what your intentions are.”

Her full lips parted on a sigh…before irritation flared in her dark gaze. Planting her hands on his shoulders, Isabel shoved him back.

“First, don’t curse at me. Second, you’re forgiven for accosting me—”

“You crawled through my window in the dark, and I’m supposed to apologize to you?” Sirius quirked his brow. “You have a lot of nerve.”

“Third,” Isabel continued, ticking off a finger as if he hadn’t spoken, “I needed to speak with you.”

Sirius froze, his interest piqued. What could have possibly driven Isabel out in the dark to speak with him? “About what?”

Her hands twisted in her cloak, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. “I—I wanted…” She swallowed. “I wanted to a-ask if you would show me how to use my feminine…wiles to learn what Lord Westhope knows of the French?”

A buzzing sound filled Sirius’s ears, and his mouth fell open as shock chased away all his thoughts.

Noting his stunned silence, Isabel clenched her eyes closed. “Lo siento. I don’t know what I was thinking coming h—”

“You want me to teach you how to seduce Westhope?” Sirius bit out.