Page 32 of Isabel and the Rogue

“I’m not the best rider—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sirius said, his tone curt. “I just want privacy for the discussion we need to have.”

She shook her head. “But you know I’ll have to bring a groom, so I won’t truly be alone.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “A bit of privacy can be bought.”

Isabel rolled her eyes. “Very well. I will be ready by seven in the morning.”

“Six thirty,” he countered, his brow arching. “I will be at Yardley House not a minute later.”

“I’ll be ready,” she whispered.

Sirius grabbed her hand then, raising it to his lips while holding her eyes. “I look forward to it,” he said, the soft pressure of his lips raising gooseflesh across her skin.

Isabel’s hand tingled the entire way to Yardley House.

Once she was ensconced in her chamber, successful in evading Gabby’s and Lady Yardley’s many questions about her evening, Isabel sank onto the chair before her escritoire. Extracting a fresh sheet of parchment from a stack in the top drawer, Isabel paused, nibbling her lip as her mind scripted out various openings before she settled on one. Straightening her spine, Isabel dipped a quill into the ink and carefully wrote out her customary greeting to Padre Ignacio. When she was done, she reread her words, hope swelling in her chest.

Folding the letter, she set it aside to be franked the next day. Then, selecting a book from the stack next to her bed, she climbed under the blankets and propped her back against the pillows. Isabel studied the book she’d grabbed, her selection made unconsciously. It was the folio of poems she had swiped from Captain Dawson’s library at Dancourt Abbey.

9

Isabel felt as if she had barely closed her eyes when the drapes were ripped open, assaulting the backs of her eyelids with the harsh light of day.

“Buenos días, señorita,” the maid, Lupe, said as she bustled into Isabel’s connecting dressing room. “Her ladyship said you were going to be riding out this morning, so I thought the azul habit would be a good choice. What do you think, señorita?”

Isabel grabbed a pillow and threw it over her face, groaning softly. “I don’t know why I agreed to such an early time.”

“I know why.” Lupe poked her head into the room, a large smile on her round face. “Porque el capitán es muy guapo.”

Ay, was he ever. He was also observant. Intuitive. Despite his scolds and overbearing actions, Sirius had a way of looking at her as if he really saw her—not the shy, awkward Isabel the ton knew her as, but as the Isabel her sisters knew. The Isabel she was just coming to accept. She supposed the only way she’d know for sure was to dress in the azul habit Lupe had chosen and meet Sirius for their scheduled morning ride.

Thirty minutes later, Isabel paced in front of the windows overlooking the front walk. What if Sirius didn’t come? He said he would, but after several hours of reprieve, he may have changed his mind.

A distant “Good morning, sir” met her ears.

Isabel turned to the window and brushed the drapes aside, her pulse roaring in her ears. Sirius sat astride a large bay colt, dressed in a riding coat a deep shade of blue that Isabel was certain would turn his eyes to the dreamy color of midnight. With buff-colored trousers, crisp and polished riding boots, and his gold locks glinting from under his hat in the early morning sunlight, Sirius looked almost princely. As if he were riding out to rescue a princess from the tallest tower.

Instead, he would find himself saddled with the wallflower Luna sister he felt obliged to protect in some sort of misplaced honor.

Sirius looked up then to the window she stood before, his gaze seeming to find hers. His expression didn’t change, but the weight of his stare felt heady.

Without thought, Isabel turned and grasped her crop, before looping the train of her habit over her arm and racing down the stairs. As she neared the last few steps, she slowed, and raised her chin, hoping to appear stately instead of giddy with excitement.

Evans was just opening the front door to Sirius when she stepped into the foyer, and his eyes immediately pinned her in place. Isabel flushed from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. She hoped he didn’t notice.

“Good morning.” She cringed at the low-pitched tone of her voice. “Are we ready?”

“Good morning, Miss Luna. You look well,” Sirius drawled, his manner perfectly polite, but his blue gaze twinkled in that teasing manner that used to annoy her.

Now that twinkle made her shiver.

Struggling to regain her poise, Isabel dipped her head and severed their eye contact. “Thank you, Captain Dawson. I’ve been looking forward to our ride.”

“Have you?” Sirius’s lips tipped up.

Refusing to allow him to assault her aplomb any further, Isabel tapped her crop on her thigh and advanced toward the door. “Shall we be on our way?”