Page 40 of Isabel and the Rogue

His brow furrowed as he pondered what to say…and then she poked her finger into his chest.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” Sirius demanded, snatching her hand and holding it against his sternum.

Isabel shook her head, her eyes glued to where he held her. “Convince Miss Fairchild to speak with me.”

“I didn’t convince her of anything.” He waited for her to meet his gaze. “I simply told her you might get along well. I’m happy to have been proven right.”

“I’m sure you are.” Her gaze fell to his tie. “She’s splendid, and I think…perhaps if I don’t reveal more disastrous personal details…that we may become friends.”

And that was important to her. For the reserved Isabel, finding friends and making connections was not easy. Sirius could tell by the color that rose in her cheeks, and he was happy to have been the cause of it.

That damnable half smile crossed her lips in the blink of an eye, sparking Sirius to ask, “Why the smile?”

Isabel’s mouth flattened into a mulish line. “I didn’t smile.”

Sirius squeezed her hand. “Yes, you did. You so rarely share your smiles with me, so I pay attention when you do.”

Her obsidian eyes blinked up at him before she shuffled about on her feet. “It’s just…when I—when I saw the two of you laughing during dinner, I was a bit miffed.”

Sirius cocked his head. “Miffed? But why?”

Her fingers fiddled with the buttons on his glove, and Sirius realized they still held each other’s hands. “Because it appeared you were having more fun than I was with the guests seated near me. And also—”

Isabel snapped her mouth closed, and his curiosity flared to life.

“And what?” Sirius took a step closer. “Tell me.”

“I misspoke,” she snapped.

“I don’t think you did, though.” Sirius stroked his thumb over her knuckles. “Were you jealous, Isabel? Was that it?”

Refusing to answer, Isabel tried to pull away, but Sirius held fast.

“I was laughing with Miss Fairchild because she made witty comments about her mother’s overbearing tendencies, and not for any other reason.”

“She’s quite pretty, though.” Her voice was so low, Sirius had to strain to hear. But he didn’t have to strain to understand the unspoken meaning of her words.

“I suppose she is.” He raised a shoulder. “But then beauty is subjective.”

“So I’ve heard.”

There was a wealth of disdain in those three words, and Sirius abruptly felt himself to be on unstable ground. Isabel would not take kindly to flowery platitudes, and he would be placating her if he offered them. Instead, he opted for honesty.

“Why would you ever want to settle for pretty? Pretty is tiresome. It’s boring. And you’re not boring, Isabel. You’re bright and sharp and…” He coughed into his fist, his tie abruptly tight. “Memorable.”

Her lips parted. “Memorable?”

Sirius nodded, reluctantly releasing her hand. “I certainly haven’t been able to forget you.”

• • •

Somehow Isabel knew Captain Sirius Dawson had never called another woman memorable before.

She didn’t have a chance to consider this, for Sirius stepped back, his expression shuttering. “Let’s get on with it, because we don’t have long.”

With a deep exhale, Isabel nodded. She needed to focus. Sirius was right. At any moment, someone might step into the room and find them together. Not only would there be a scandal, but Isabel would have failed to follow through on her real reason for being in Mr. Fairchild’s study in the first place. Smoothing her hands along the silk at her waist, Isabel glanced about the room.