Page 33 of Isabel and the Rogue

Sirius extended a hand to her as she stepped over the threshold. “Yes, let’s. For I, too, have been looking forward to it.”

“No doubt so you can scold me, yet again,” Isabel grumbled as she walked by his side down the front stairs.

“Not quite,” Sirius murmured. “Although you would be deserving of it.”

After assisting her to mount her mare, Sirius led her down the street in the direction of Hyde Park. A footman played groom on a gelding twenty or so paces behind them. There was little to no traffic on the street at such an early hour, and the soft click of their horses’ hooves mingled with the rumble of supply wagons and the chatter of birds seeing to their business. Isabel was happy for the silence. It gave her an opportunity to settle her nerves. Being in Sirius’s presence had always left her a bit defensive; first because he antagonized her, then because he stimulated her, and now…well, now because he did both simultaneously.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

His voice was mild, almost polite, but Isabel sensed there was more to his question.

She cleared her throat. “I am well. I had an enjoyable evening at the ball last night.”

“It appeared so. You certainly smiled more than I’ve ever seen.”

“I had no notion you kept track of my smiles,” she shot back, glancing at him askance.

From the corner of her eye she saw the captain lift a shoulder. “They’re such rare events…and they change your face so completely, it’s hard not to pay attention.”

Isabel jerked her head about to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what I said.” The captain fixed his gaze on a point in the distance. “Your whole face comes alive when you smile.”

“Oh,” she replied dumbly, her thoughts in a whirl. No one had made such an observation about her before, and she was unsure how she felt about it.

“Yes, well, Lord Westhope is a friendly fellow, so I can understand why you would enjoy his company.”

“Indeed.” Noting that the path ahead was unhindered, Isabel allowed herself a moment to study the reins in her hands. Gathering her courage, she blurted, “You did not seem particularly happy that I was enjoying his company last night.”

“I didn’t?”

His tone was a shade mocking, which set her teeth on edge. “You glared at me every time I met your gaze after our encounter in the library.”

“I wasn’t glaring at you,” Captain Dawson snorted.

“Come now, I know what I saw,” Isabel said with a scoff.

“Apparently you don’t,” he said, his blue eyes sliding to meet hers, “or else you would know I was glaring at him.”

Oh. Isabel dropped her gaze, uncomfortably aware of the flush that streaked up her neck and over her cheeks. And yet his words angered her, for why should he care if an eligible, attractive man took notice of her?

“You have no reason to be antagonistic toward Lord Westhope. The man doesn’t possess a mean bone in his body.” Isabel tilted her chin as she narrowed her eyes at him. “And why should his kind attentions to me be deserving of your disdain? You’ve only ever shown indifference to me.”

He grunted even as he pulled back on his horse’s reins. The beast nickered in agitation as it came to a stop. “Indifference, you say?”

Isabel frowned. How else could the captain describe how he’d treated her for the last two years? She supposed it was true that he had been unerringly gracious when she and her sisters had found themselves unexpected guests at Dancourt Abbey…and he’d been especially kind when Ana María was abducted…and again when her parents were in danger…

With an uncomfortable pain in her side, Isabel realized that Captain Sirius Dawson had been kind and gracious to her more times than she had ever given him credit for. Every time she had spoken to him with sarcasm and barely concealed contempt, he had responded with polite teasing. Captain Dawson had never ridiculed her or mocked her, even when she had done the same to him. Shame nauseated her.

Uncertain of what to say in the wake of such a revelation, Isabel strung random words together that she hoped made sense. “You seemed to avoid me at every turn—”

“Isabel.”

She startled, her gaze flying to his.

“If I avoided you, it’s because you made it abundantly clear that you were disgusted by me. I’m a gentleman, and have no interest in forcing my company on someone who does not desire it.” The captain directed his mount a step closer to hers. “Regardless, I can’t help but be concerned for your welfare.”

Opening her mouth but discovering she had nothing to say, Isabel closed it with a snap.