Page 11 of Isabel and the Rogue

Apprehension unfurled in her chest as Isabel realized how much she relied upon her sisters, especially Gabby, to shield her from uncomfortable social encounters. However, if she were to return to Mexico as she desired, how was she to find her place among the elevated circles her parents occupied if she could not maneuver around cutting remarks and innuendos? She couldn’t cling to Gabby’s skirts indefinitely.

“I apologize for leaving you so suddenly, but Miss Luna here was in need of assistance.” Captain Dawson flashed a smile at her, but it appeared almost manufactured. Certainly not of the sunny variety he had shared with her in the balloon basket. “We ended up taking an unexpected trip above London.”

Lady Needham gasped. “Was that you in the balloon I saw slip from its tethers?”

“It was, indeed.”

The baroness clasped his arm, pressing her body close to his side. Isabel ground her molars together. “Good gracious, are you all right? Were you injured?”

“I appreciate your concern, my lady, but I am fine.” Captain Dawson’s indigo eyes swept to her. “As is Miss Luna, thankfully.”

For the first time, Lady Needham turned her gaze on Isabel. Isabel had met the baroness once or twice since she had arrived in England, but the older woman had never paid her much attention, and why would she? Lady Needham was a renowned beauty, with gold hair, a porcelain complexion, and pretty, pouty lips. Gabby had once remarked that she looked like a doll, with the empty head to match. Isabel had thought her sister hyperbolic, for the blatant inspection the woman gave her now was quite calculating. Still, she raised her chin. Just a tad.

“Well, you’ve caught me by surprise.” The baroness waved her fan lazily in front of her face as she stared at Isabel. “I had no notion you were a philanthropist, Dawson.”

Although his expression remained impassive, a muscle twitched in his jaw. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, my lady.”

Lady Needham’s brows disappeared into her hairline as her gaze darted between him and Isabel. “Come now, of course you do. Why else would you come to the rescue of such a little sparrow?”

A sparrow? Flames of mortification burned across Isabel’s skin.

Risking a quick glance at the captain, she found him staring at Lady Needham with a pucker between his brows. “Is that supposed to be an insult? I’ve always thought sparrows were plucky and clever, and Miss Luna is both those things.”

He thought her clever?

“Perhaps,” the baroness replied, drawing out the word, “but then they aren’t terribly pretty, are they?”

“I’ve always thought beauty was subjective, my lady.” Sirius lifted a shoulder. “Something can be beautiful because it’s clever and plucky.”

“If you say so.”

Isabel didn’t have a chance to ponder Captain Dawson’s answer before Lady Needham pivoted on her heel to face her again. Isabel endeavored not to curl her shoulders in.

“Are you here by yourself, Miss Luna?”

“I’m not. Viscountess Yardley and my sister were visiting with friends near the lawn when I walked over here for a closer look at the balloons.” Isabel aimed for a smile, but suspected it was more of a grimace. “Neither was as interested in their mechanics as I was.”

“Well, of course you were interested.” The baroness flicked her fingers in the direction of the balloons. “No doubt you’ve never seen anything so grand and advanced.”

Isabel rocked back on her heels. “I fancy I’ve seen many amazing sights, both here in England and in Mexico.”

Captain Dawson clutched a hand to his chest in faux surprise. “So are you saying England and Europe do not have a monopoly on technological innovations?”

“Indeed not.” Isabel pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “Despite what some people may believe, Mexico City is quite cosmopolitan. It’s often called the Paris of Latin America.” She tapped her chin with her forefinger, playing coy. “Or perhaps Paris is the Mexico City of Europe.”

Isabel experienced a moment of pleasure when the baroness’s mien darkened. But her response was nothing compared to that of Captain Dawson, who chuckled out loud, his eyes glinting in a way she didn’t think she’d ever seen outside of Dancourt Abbey. “I suppose it’s natural for people to believe their home is the center of the world because it is the center of their world. I find it refreshing to be reminded that the world is much vaster than my experience on any given day.”

Ducking her head, Isabel hoped to hide how his words made her cheeks warm. That Captain Dawson understood her, supported her claim, boosted her confidence more than she was certain it warranted. Nevertheless, his approval made it easier for Isabel to stand a little taller.

“Yes, well, I’ve never been interested in traveling. Why would I travel when London offers everything a sophisticated woman could ever want?”

Lady Needham adjusted the fit of her fine leather gloves, her head tilted just so to allow the sunlight to glint off the colorful blossoms adorning her bonnet. The baroness was exquisite…and it was obvious she wanted Captain Dawson. Isabel could never compete with such a woman. And why would she want to? The captain was a scoundrel of the highest order.

Yet, the baroness’s words smarted, and while it wasn’t like her to argue a point, Isabel heard herself say, “Not everyone travels for enjoyment, though.”

“What do you mean?” Lady Needham asked, lips pursed.

Inhaling quickly, Isabel said, “Some are forced to travel, and they take their culture, their history with them.”