Page 68 of Isabel and the Rogue
Isabel glanced at her sister over her shoulder. “I adore the color, but I haven’t worn it because I thought it might make my skin look darker.”
“And why is that a bad thing?” Gabby asked.
Without waiting for a reply, she pushed Isabel’s day dress over her hips and then promptly dropped the turquoise walking dress over her head. After Isabel had managed to slip her arms through the sleeves, she waited patiently for Gabby to lace up the back. Once that task was complete, her sister grabbed her by the hand and led her to the small dressing table. Encouraging Isabel to sit, Gabby set out tweaking her curls until they cascaded down her back in a style Isabel would never have dreamed of trying but would readily admit looked flattering on her. When the coiffure was to her liking, Gabby produced a decorative hat from her own collection. It was simple by Gabby’s own standards, with a modest brim and a black velvet bow whose ribbons would drape over the back of the wearer’s head. Isabel had always thought it quite pretty, but when Gabby perched it on her head and pinned it in place, pleasure warmed her chest.
“Do you like it, Isa?” her sister asked.
“I do. Thank you for letting me wear it.”
Gabby nodded, but didn’t say anything, fussing with the fall of the ribbons instead. Isabel watched her, confusion knotting her tongue. Finally, she asked, “Hermana, we’re just going for a walk. Why are you dressing me as if I’m meeting someone special?”
Lifting her head, Gabby met her gaze in the mirror. “Because perhaps you will.”
A prickling sensation crept along her scalp, and Isabel dropped her eyes. After a long moment, she finally said, “Would you like me to help you dress?”
“I’ll be fine.” Gabby clasped her shoulder and squeezed. “I’ll be downstairs shortly.”
Isabel nodded, watching in the mirror as her sister left the room. Turning back to her reflection, she smiled. The turquoise color did look striking against her dark skin…and suddenly Isabel wondered why she had let other people’s opinions of her looks become her own opinions. She was striking, she was appealing…she was memorable, not despite her Purépecha ancestry, but because of it.
With that revelation in mind, Isabel made her way downstairs. After accepting a shawl from Evans, the butler, Isabel lingered in the lobby, waiting for Gabby to appear.
Instead she was met by Bauer.
“Miss Gabriela asked me to tell you that she has come down with a megrim, and won’t be able to walk out with you.”
Isabel’s mouth gaped. “Gabby’s not coming?”
“She’s not, miss,” Bauer said, bobbing a curtsy before walking away.
Even as she stood on the front step, blinking against the bright sunlight, Isabel tried to make sense of what had just happened. Her sister had picked out her best walking dress, styled her hair, and made her feel beautiful…only to leave her to walk on her own? Glancing up at the window to Gabby’s chamber, Isabel would swear she could see her sister lurking behind the curtains. Gabby must have guessed that she planned to meet Sirius, and had taken the time to make Isabel feel confident in her appearance before she did.
A powerful wave of love surged through her, and Isabel blew a kiss up at the window, before spinning about and heading down the street.
As she approached the corner, her half boots clicking on the walk, the snouts of first one horse and then the other came into view. Her pulse pounded erratically, eager to see Sirius’s handsome face and hear his rich voice. Increasing her pace, Isabel turned the corner, a smile already stretching her lips…when she stumbled to a halt. For there stood Sirius, with Lady Needham wrapped around his arm.
17
Watching the smile slip from Isabel’s lips was like a punch in the face…but knowing he was the reason sucked all the air from his lungs.
Sirius had been on a knife-edge all day since he’d said goodbye to Isabel, anxiously glancing at the clock, waiting until he could see her again. Dressing with care, Sirius had then paced around his study, flipping through first one book and then another, distracting himself by keeping a mental list of the books he wanted to discuss with her. Sirius had wasted so much time since he’d met Isabel, time he could have spent watching her face light up when she was interested in a topic, listening to the quirky workings of her mind, quoting poetry to her while they made love…
When the time came to finally ask for the carriage to be brought around, Sirius checked his reflection in the mirror, accepted the cane Stanley held out to him, and walked outside. As the conveyance rumbled over the streets, Sirius daydreamed about pulling Isabel into the carriage cab, kissing her senseless before dragging his kisses lower. And when the tremors had finally left her limbs and her eyes turned dreamy, Sirius would gather her in his arms and finally discuss her search.
The driver pulled the carriage to a stop, and Sirius hopped out without waiting for a footman to open the door. Tapping his cane on the walk, Sirius peered down the street toward Yardley House. He tried to imagine Isabel getting ready to meet him. Was she as nervous as he was? As eager? Sirius ripped his hat off his head and dragged a hand through his hair. Had he ever been so flustered in his life? Despite his many years of service with the Home Office or in the cavalry, this moment left him feeling completely off-balance. His friends—his men—would laugh if they could see him now.
“Dawson,” a feminine voice called, “whatever are you doing here?”
His stomach dropped to his feet. Clamping his teeth together, Sirius spun on his heel, his gaze landing on Emily, Lady Needham.
“Your ladyship, how do you do?” Sirius asked, executing a crisp bow.
Mayhap if he was polite but distant, Lady Needham would lose interest because he was no longer a willing participant in her flirtations.
“I’m doing much better now that I’ve seen you,” she said, her voice saccharine sweet.
Or not. Sirius bit back a sigh.
“Why are you waiting here with your carriage?” The baroness rotated her head to look up and down the street, her green gaze keen. “Are you waiting for someone?”
