Page 2 of Isabel and the Rogue

Her own brows dipped low over her narrowed eyes. “You did, sir. In all the months since we departed Dancourt Abbey, you’ve not spoken with me once. Nor my sister or Lady Yardley, that I am aware of.”

“Well, that’s not true,” he murmured. “I chatted with Lady Yardley in the park just the other day.”

“How nice for you.” Isabel pinned her gaze on a perfect blond curl near the nape of his neck. “Yet the fact remains that we have never been friendly, Captain Dawson, even while my sisters and I were at Dancourt Abbey that summer. You have never taken any interest in me—” Isabel clamped down on her tongue so hard she tasted copper. She had no intention of hinting at her hurt feelings over his disregard. She never wanted any man to think he could maim her pride. Especially this man.

His chest rose and fell with a sigh, and Captain Dawson shifted his gaze from her face to a spot over her shoulder. “That’s not true. I assured Fox I would keep an eye on you and Miss Gabriela—”

“And I assure you, Capitán, that my sister and I do not need anything from you.”

Isabel did not raise her voice, nor did her tone hint at the anger his indifference had sparked within her. But Captain Dawson seemed to know anyway, for the angular planes of his face softened. Just a tad.

She refused to soften in return. The captain may be her brother-in-law’s close friend, and he may have sheltered her and her sisters from Mexico’s enemies after Ana María and Gideon were wed. But Captain Dawson had shown her time and time again that she was not worth his notice.

Being a wallflower had its benefits, but Isabel was so very tired of being overlooked.

“I’m well aware that you and your sister are capable of taking care of yourselves. You’ve proven it more than once.” His jaw worked on a pause. “But I fear there may be others among the ton who would wish you harm, and I find the idea of that happening quite…unpalatable.”

• • •

Damn it, what was it about this shrinking violet that made him share all his thoughts as if he’d just stepped into a confessional box?

Sirius had not given Miss Isabel Luna much thought when he’d first seen her. He’d heard she was the shy, wallflower Luna sister, often boring her dance partners with talk of books and discussions of obscure topics. From Sirius’s experience, most gentlemen could not be bothered to think about much aside from gossip, horseflesh, and women, so of course an awkward debutante would be of little interest.

But it wasn’t until he encountered her in the darkened interior of Lord Ratliff’s study that Sirius had been reminded it was always the quiet ones that needed to be watched.

It had been almost two years prior. Sirius had been at some gathering or another—the myriad of events he was required to attend often blended together—where he had finally managed to catch Lady Attwell alone, without the hovering presence of her husband. The Home Office had been certain that if Sirius were able to get the countess alone, she would reveal what she knew about Lord Attwell’s French financial holdings that had alarmed officials. Charming the countess had proven easy. The second wife of an old earl, whose heir and spare from his first wife were already at university, the young and comely Lady Attwell had been bored and looking for excitement…something Sirius had been more than happy to exploit.

And it was with Lady Attwell pressing hungry kisses to his neck, hands fumbling with the placket of his trousers, that Sirius had seen her. She had been crouched under the desk, only the barest glimpse of her crinoline underskirt peeking into view. With careful maneuvering, Sirius was able to crane his head to the side until a pair of large doe eyes blinked up at him, light sparkling in their dark depths. This anonymous woman appeared neither abashed nor frightened to have been discovered, and instead stared back at him as if he and Lady Attwell had interrupted her.

Sirius wasn’t sure how he’d managed to end the encounter with Lady Attwell. She had not been happy, but in that moment his interest had swung wildly from her to this unknown variable.

After the countess had angrily quit the room, Sirius propped his hip against the desk, crossed his arms over his chest, and patiently waited for his quarry to come out of her hole. It seemed she was in no rush, however, for he waited five minutes before her head appeared over the desktop. She didn’t gasp or seem the least bit surprised to find him still there. Instead, she climbed to her feet, brushed out the fall of her skirts, and met his gaze directly.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” she’d said, in a voice oozing with condescension. It took him a moment to even register her accent.

Sirius slowly quirked his mouth. “How amusing. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Her snort was soft. “Of course you were. Are you the sort to think a man is never at fault even when he very obviously is?”

“Of course not. But then it was you who failed to announce your presence when my…” He cleared his throat. “Friend and I entered the room. Rather, you hid, as if you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do. Amusing, that.”

“Not amusing at all.” She paced a step closer, her blithe mask not slipping an inch. “You and your friend caught me off guard, and before I could say a word, you had fallen on each other like frothing beasts.”

“Frothing beasts?” Sirius snorted. “There’s no need to exaggerate.”

“Only a person described in such a way would consider it an exaggeration.” Her head cocked to the side. “Amusing, that.”

Sirius had bit down on his tongue, whether to contain a laugh or issue a rebuttal, he didn’t know. But as he stared at this spitfire, with her blazing dark eyes and rich golden skin, he was struck anew by how arresting she was. He blinked, his mind connecting her accent with her sun-kissed looks.

“Am I to assume you are one of the ladies visiting from Mexico?” His gaze skipped over her face. “It’s Miss Luna, is it not?”

She nodded primly. “I see my reputation has preceded me.” A pleased sort of smirk settled on her lips. “And now I’ve seen your reputation in action, Captain. I appreciate the lesson.”

“You know who I am?” Sirius had been surprised, and people so rarely surprised him. How was it possible this wallflower knew who he was, but he’d been clueless of her existence until that moment?

“Of course I do.” Miss Luna stepped away, the skirts of her green gown swishing about her legs. At the door she paused, glancing at him over her shoulder with a quirked brow. “I’m always aware of those I should avoid, even when an introduction proves unavoidable.”

It had taken Sirius several minutes after that parting response to recover his composure and rejoin the party.