Page 55 of Isabel and the Rogue

“And think of all the friends you’ve made, especially at the parish,” Gabby added.

After her marriage, Ana María had become involved in the parish church where Gideon had been raised. Isabel enjoyed visiting for Mass, but Ana had taken it upon herself to organize all manner of events for the congregation. Palm Sunday and Easter festivities, a fundraiser for the small parish school affiliated with the church, health clinics for parishioners, and more were overseen by her older sister, and Isabel was in awe of Ana María’s leadership abilities. Her sister had bloomed in her marriage to Gideon, and Isabel knew that despite how she ached for Mexico, Ana María would never call it home again.

“I know,” Ana mumbled, aggressively stirring cream into her coffee, “and I know Gideon loves me. But you are my sisters.”

Isabel swallowed down a painful knot of emotions and turned away. The sound of rustling fabric met her ears, and she peered back to see Gabby had taken a seat next to Ana, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“Ana, please don’t cry. It makes me uncomfortable.”

An amused snort slipped out before Isabel could contain it, and both her sisters glanced up at her, Gabby’s gaze full of mirth and Ana’s tinged with fond exasperation.

“Gracias for reminding me you are not deserving of my tears, pendeja,” Ana María grumbled.

“Ana!” Isabel and Gabby exclaimed in unison. When had their older sister said such a foul word?

It was Ana María’s turn to laugh, and soon the tense atmosphere was dispelled by the trio’s shared laughter. Over cups of coffee, they conversed and shared all manner of chatter about society gossip, the parliamentary bills Ana María was helping Gideon find support for, Gabby’s increased participation in her suffrage group, as well as speculation over what was occurring in Mexico.

“Oh, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you,” Ana María said, jumping to her feet as she dashed to a cherrywood escritoire situated on the other side of the room. “Tío Arturo passed along a letter from Mother and Father. They are safe and well, gracias a Dios.”

Cupping a hand to her mouth, Isabel swallowed down tears of relief.

Ana María rejoined them, but held out an envelope to Isabel before she sat. “There was also a letter from Padre Ignacio for you.”

Hoping her hand didn’t tremble, Isabel reached out and grasped the yellowed, dirt-smudged envelope, her throat thick. Without hesitation, she tucked it into the small reticule at her side.

“Don’t you want to read it?” Gabby asked with a shake of her head.

“I’ll wait until tonight.” Her sister opened her mouth as if to argue, so Isabel turned to Ana María and quickly asked, “Will you read us Mother and Father’s letter?”

The deflection worked. Soon the sisters were discussing the news their parents shared, and what it meant that imperial forces were heading north to Guaymas in Sonora. Isabel hid a secret smile, for she had shared that information with Padre Ignacio after learning it from Sirius. But her smugness was short-lived because she knew it wasn’t enough. The constant worry for her parents made Isabel keenly aware of the letter in her reticule, and she pondered what words Padre Ignacio had written until her head pounded. She needed fresh air. She needed to read the letter in solitude. Isabel needed to escape.

Rising to her feet, Isabel smiled at her sisters…or hoped she did. “I’m going to walk to that little bookstore around the corner.”

Her sisters blinked at her, their mouths twisting, twin frowns on their faces. It was Gabby who spoke first, though. “Por supuesto. I figured you would want to visit because we were so close.”

Isabel nodded, silently praying for blessings for her ornery sister who always made her feel understood.

“Oh,” Ana María murmured, her gaze darting about. “Let me ask Consuelo to accompany you.”

“No.” Isabel realized she said the word sharper than she intended when her sisters jerked back their chins. Licking her lips, she tried again. “The shop is not far. Surely I can walk there and back without encountering trouble.”

“You would think,” Gabby murmured, taking a sip of coffee.

Ana María rolled her eyes. “Very well. Enjoy yourself.”

On the short walk to the bookshop, Isabel allowed herself a moment to contemplate what it would mean to return to Mexico and leave her sisters behind. Because while neither of them had said it, Isabel knew her younger sister would be in England for longer than she would. Despite her sister’s claims to the contrary, Gabby had made friends and established relationships with an ease that made Isabel jealous, and she didn’t think her sister would rush to abandon them. She could be wrong, of course, but if Gabby followed her back to Mexico, it would be several years still.

Straightening the hat on her head, Isabel pushed open the door to the bookstore.

“Good afternoon, miss,” the proprietor called, a stack of books in his hands. With a quick dip of his head, he disappeared into a back room.

Thankful to have been spared the awkward practice of small talk, Isabel looked around. She had been pleasantly delighted when she discovered this little nook of a store nine or so months ago. It was tucked between a butcher shop and a bakery and had an impressive selection of books, from philosophical tomes to penny dreadfuls. Isabel had also found several Spanish translated works, and had eagerly thanked the shopkeeper for stocking them. Surrounded by rows of books, the air filled with their musty, slightly vanilla scent, Isabel expelled her stresses with a great exhale.

That was until she turned down an aisle and promptly collided with a firm chest. Stumbling backward, she would have fallen except a strong pair of hands gripped her upper arms and stopped her descent. Isabel looked up, her breath catching in her throat.

“Isabel! Are you all right?” Sirius asked, drawing her closer until his chest was almost pressed against hers. His sapphire eyes were large with concern.

After a heartbeat, she nodded. Isabel willed her body to step away from his warmth, but she was suddenly unable to control her limbs. It had been a handful of days since she’d seen him at the museum…where he’d brought her to release against his tongue. Heat singed her cheeks as she stared up at him.