Page 13 of Isabel and the Rogue

“I’ve been cared for.” The baroness twirled a blond curl around her gloved finger. “As a titled lady, it’s only appropriate that I should be protected and pampered.”

“And your late husband ensured you were both,” Captain Dawson said, patting her arm.

“You’ve done a wonderful job of caring for me, as well.” Lady Needham stared up at him, her eyes wide. “Although you’ve been neglecting me as of late.”

Isabel shifted her gaze away from the fawning expression on Lady Needham’s face. Isabel had heard the rumors that the baroness and Captain Dawson were engaged in an affair, but seeing the woman gaze up at him like a subject in a Hayez painting made her almost wish she were back up in the balloon.

As if sensing her discomfort, Captain Dawson took a step back from the baroness. “I’ve been busy, my lady. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I came here today to visit with a friend, and I should finally see to that task.”

“I believe the viscount’s left, Dawson,” Lady Needham said, pointing her fan at him.

His face fell. “That’s unfortunate.”

“But now you’re free to be a dear and escort me to my carriage.” The baroness wrapped her arm around his, flashing a triumphant smile at Isabel. “We never did finish our conversation.”

If Isabel weren’t watching him so closely, she would have missed the way his chest expanded and then deflated with a sigh.

“Very well, my lady, let’s get you out of the sun.” A hint of a smile curved his lips as Dawson tipped his hat to Isabel. “Good day, Miss Luna.”

With an ache in her throat, Isabel watched the couple amble away. Why she should feel sadness and a sense of loss to see the captain depart, she didn’t know. Nor did she like it.

Pushing her melancholy aside, Isabel turned and fixed her eyes on the balloon envelope overhead, willing herself to feel the same excitement she had before her impromptu balloon ride with Captain Dawson. Before he had smiled and laughed with her, and wiped her mind clear of thoughts.

“I know Captain Dawson is a rogue, but I thought he at least had some taste.” Gabby came to a stop beside her, curling her lips as she looked at a point over Isabel’s shoulder. “Lady Needham? He must be addled in the brain to associate with her.”

“She’s quite pretty, don’t you think?” Isabel said, biting her cheek.

“I don’t think anything of the sort.” Her younger sister snorted. “Lady Needham is unremarkable. Vapid. Mean-spirited. Enamored with her own consequence.”

Isabel looked at her sister from the corner of her eye. “Am I to assume you’re not fond of the baroness?”

“Come now, Isa, you know I’m fond of very few people. You. Ana. Gideon. Mother. Sometimes Lady Yardley.” Gabby paused, staring into the middle distance. “Perhaps Dove, but only because she’s an adorable, empty-headed little beast.”

“Five people and a dog?” Isabel chuckled. “I’m surprised, even for you.”

“No, you’re not. You know I hold little affection or patience for most people I meet, especially when they’re idiots.” Gabby sighed. “I’m disappointed to see that Captain Dawson may well be an idiot, too.”

“I tried to warn you.”

“I suppose you did.” Gabby leaned into her side. “One day I’ll learn to listen to my older sister.”

“But today is not that day,” Isabel said.

Gabby clicked her tongue. “Indeed, it is not.”

And perhaps one day, Isabel would learn not to indulge her romantic notions at the expense of her good sense.

4

As Sirius wandered the hallowed halls of Westminster, he cursed the fact that he even had to be there in the first place.

But despite his best efforts, he’d been unable to pin down Viscount Westhope, and Sirius was annoyed. After missing him at the balloon festival, Sirius had met him again to play billiards at their club, but the gregarious viscount had been surrounded by friends, which made engaging in a deep conversation all but impossible. Sirius tried, though, and Lord Westhope reciprocated his attempts at conversation in that easy manner some men have when they are confident in who they are and their place in the world. Sirius had worked hard to create a similar image for himself, and few people seemed aware that he walked around every day wearing a mask. Whitfield, of course, but then only because the duke was his closest friend, and Gideon Fox, because the man was shrewd and insightful. But seeing as the man wore a mask himself, Fox had never judged him, and Sirius was grateful.

There was now a new person to add to the list: Isabel Luna. She had seemed to look beneath his veneer during their conversations at the festival, and he found it uncomfortable to be the subject of her keen stare…especially when he knew it was usually sparked by his roguish actions.

But truly, what choice did he have? Sirius had a job to do, and playing the role of an incorrigible rogue was part of it. He had no business befriending unmarried ladies, no matter how awkwardly charming they were.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the hall, Sirius pressed his fingers to his temples. Now was most certainly not the time to allow his thoughts to wander to the riddle that was Isabel Luna.