Page 30 of Isabel and the Rogue

Isabel did not answer immediately, but he could hear her throat work on a swallow. “I don’t understand why you’re here. Why do you care what I do?”

Sirius shook his head, unsure of how to respond because even he didn’t understand his need to protect her, as much from herself as from others.

“You are constantly surrounded by a crowd, Captain. Your exploits”—she emphasized the word as if it were a slur—“are splashed in the gossip pages. You make friends and command attention wherever you go. Why concern yourself with someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” Sirius advanced a step toward her. “Who do you consider yourself to be?”

Her dark eyes stared up at him, the air between them thick and taut. Sirius knew how others viewed Isabel, but he also knew how wrong they were. So how did she view herself? Did she know she was bright and perceptive, and delivered stinging retorts that replayed in his mind for days afterward? That her barely there smile absolutely beguiled him, for it hinted at all the emotions she kept so tightly contained? Did she know that her sinfully full mouth was made for kisses? Sirius curled his hands into fists at the idea he could show her.

A breath shuddered past her lips. “I’m nobody. Just a Mexican woman trying to be the best sister and niece I can be.”

His ribs seized around his heart, and Sirius reached out a hand to her—

A noise in the corridor made them freeze in place. If they were found, alone in a dark room, Sirius was not certain they could survive the scandal. Turning to Isabel, he found her staring at the closed door with panic-stricken eyes.

Taking her hand, Sirius dragged her to the corner of the room and tucked her within the dark drapes, hidden from view by one of the tall bookcases. Sirius swiftly walked back to the armchairs, adjusting his tie and his cufflinks, hoping he appeared relaxed and unruffled, and not like a man waging a war with his emotions. Grabbing a book from a side table, Sirius had just sat when the tumbler clicked and the door swung open.

“Ho, Dawson, what are you doing here in the dark?” Westhope exclaimed, another gentleman standing behind him in the doorway.

Sirius closed the book with a snap and rose to his feet. “Honestly, I was trying to dodge Lady Needham’s attentions. She’s become quite…” He paused, crooking his mouth. “Demanding.”

The viscount chuckled, stepping into the room and turning to light another lamp. “Yes, it appears the baroness is determined to make a conquest of you. Pity that her campaign has you hiding in the library when you should be dancing with pretty ladies.”

“Indeed. Yet I haven’t rushed back to the ballroom, because you have an impressive library, Westhope.” Sirius made a show of pulling out his pocket watch. “It would seem that the supper waltz approaches. Should we find our partners?”

“Oh yes, I don’t want to leave Miss Luna waiting,” Westhope said, hurrying to his desk and unlocking the center drawer. “Let me just grab that printer’s card for Andrews.”

Sirius nodded in greeting at the other man, and then turned back to the viscount, his teeth abruptly on edge. He cleared his throat. “Have you secured Miss Gabriela Luna’s hand for the supper waltz?”

“Miss Gabriela is lovely, but”—the viscount clicked his tongue—“it’s Miss Isabel Luna’s quiet, clever demeanor that I’m drawn to.”

“I see,” he murmured, his pulse thundering in his ears. “She is a singular young woman.”

Westhope looked up, a thoughtful expression on his face. “She’s incomparable. I have enjoyed spending time with her. Ha, here it is,” he finished, brandishing a card in the air.

Straightening his cravat, Westhope nodded. “Here you go, Andrews. Now let’s find our dance partners.”

With a quick glance to the back of the room, Sirius smiled. “Yes, let’s not keep them waiting.”

And with that, he followed the viscount and his friend, so many things left unsaid in the air behind him.

• • •

Expelling a breath that Isabel had held for entirely too long, she dropped her head back against the wall as the door closed. That had been too close for comfort. If Lord Westhope had walked any farther into the room, surely he would have seen her gold skirts among the dark fabric of the window drapes. She wasn’t exactly camouflaged.

But Captain Dawson—Sirius—had delivered the perfect distraction…and not just for the viscount.

Inhaling so deeply her lungs felt full to bursting, Isabel ran trembling hands along her brow, carefully tucking loose hairs behind her ears. Once she had adjusted the fit of her bodice, Isabel pushed the drapes aside and stepped into the room. Her pulse was still fluttering, but Isabel knew she could not dawdle, for Lord Westhope would be looking to claim her hand for their waltz, and she absolutely could not be found in this room.

Isabel closed her eyes and squared her shoulders as she counted to ten, before she quietly opened the door and entered the empty corridor. Keeping to the shadows, she reached the ballroom in seconds, but hesitated on the threshold, eyes darting about the space.

She spotted Gabby chatting with several young women on the other side of the dance floor, flashing a bland smile at a gentleman who stopped to greet her, before pointedly turning back to her friends. To the right of her, Isabel found Lady Yardley perched with several matrons watching the dancers performing a reel. Fighting the urge to worry her lip, Isabel took several steps into the room. Suddenly a pair of sapphire eyes snared hers, and her heart kicked into a sprint. Sirius was standing across the room surrounded by a group of people, but his gaze was fixed on her. Isabel couldn’t identify what was in the bottomless ocean depths of his gaze—wariness, curiosity, a hunger that made her mouth run dry. No man had ever looked at her that way, and Isabel was helpless to look away from him.

That was until a figure blocked her line of sight.

“There you are, Miss Luna,” Lord Westhope said, a friendly smile on his lips and a spark of relief in his eyes. “I had almost feared I wouldn’t find you before our set.”

“I’m sorry to have worried you,” Isabel said, executing a curtsy. “I was merely wandering the room, greeting acquaintances and watching the dances.”