Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series) (26 page)

Silently, he stared at her for several long minutes. His chest rose and fell as quickly as hers. With a frown, he released her and nodded. “I’ll wait until you are ready.”

Turning, she sobbed and ran out of the drawing room to her bedchambers, cursing Hawk the whole way.

* * * *

The next day at breakfast, Marcus was absent.

Isabelle’s eyes were not as swollen as they’d been last night, but her spirit had been dampened, nonetheless. As she ate her eggs, she pondered her dilemma. How could she get Hawk out of her heart? Why did she still hold on to his memory? Releasing him would be the best thing for her—if she only knew how.

Even though her husband’s kindness surprised her, she still hesitated to trust him. Marcus wasn’t the monster she’d expected, and his kisses were very nice. Even exciting. He would certainly know how to please her. If only she could allow it.

When would that happen? And how, pray, could she get Hawk from her mind for good?

After her meal, she hurried outside. The bright sun made her squint, until she glanced across the yard toward the street. A walk would be lovely right now, and hopefully help her clear her mind to what she really wanted.

She adjusted her bonnet and proceeded down the street. The area where Marcus lived wasn’t as busy, but the more into town she progressed, the thicker the crowds became. Houses were lined closer together, and carriages and horses littered the street. She didn’t recognize anyone, but then she wouldn’t. However, some people looked at her as if they knew her. Perhaps they had heard the rumors about Lockwood’s marriage by now. Holding her head a little higher, she pasted on a smile and nodded a pleasant greeting.

She dropped by each shop along the street, not to purchase anything, but to see what New York had to offer. It amazed her how civilized everything looked. Nothing at all like she’d heard when she lived in England.

As she left one of the shops, she nearly ran into Mrs. Winters. Isabelle stopped and grasped her friend’s hand. “Oh, what a joy it is to see you.”

Mrs. Winters giggled and hugged Isabelle. “Indeed, this is a surprise. What are you about this fine afternoon?”

Isabelle shrugged. “I had nothing better to do. Besides, how else am I going to acquaint myself with the town?”

The older woman arched a knowing brow. “But my dear, it’s the day after your wedding. Should you not be home with your husband, getting to know him?”

Against Isabelle’s will, her face flamed. How she wished her friend had not said that. “He had several meetings today. Besides, we spent a lovely time yesterday touring New York.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Did you know he’s not the man people have told me about?”

“Indeed?” Mrs. Winter’s eyes widened.

“No. He actually has a kind heart and generous soul.”

“Well, I’ll be.” Her friend shook her head. “That’s certainly not what we’d heard.”

Isabelle linked her arm with the older woman and strolled down the street. “He even asked about you, wanting to know if you had enough funds to get back to England.”

Mrs. Winters stumbled, but quickly righted herself. “You don’t say.”

“He did, indeed.” Isabelle grinned. “He worried that my father hadn’t paid you like he promised.”

“Well, I must admit, the funds weren’t as much as I had expected.”

Isabelle stopped, anger flowing through her. Why had her father chosen to become such a selfish man? “Well, my husband said if you need any money, he would help you out.”

Gasping, Mrs. Winters covered her mouth. Tears collected in her eyes.

Isabelle smiled. “See? Is he not a generous man?”

“To be sure.” Mrs. Winters dropped her hand. “I do need more money if I’m to return to England.”

“Then I shall speak with him about the matter.”

“Oh, no, my dear. Let me talk with him. I’d like to thank him in person.”

Isabelle nodded. “If you wish.”

“I would.” The older woman patted Isabelle’s hand as they continued walking. “It’s not every day we find a man who has such a large heart. I cannot believe what good fortune you have come across my dear. After our stagecoach had been attacked by Captain Hawk and his men and he took you prisoner, I feared your life would never be the same.”

Isabelle scowled and jerked on the other woman’s arm. “
Shhh
. Lower your voice. I haven’t said anything to the viscount about my encounter with the highwayman, and I hope he never finds out.”

“Yes, you are correct. We shall carry that secret to our graves.”

Isabelle’s chest constricted. If only she could carry out that promise. True, she didn’t want to tell anyone about her involvement, but she feared the good fortune Mrs. Winters spoke about would be short-lived. Hawk and his crew still knew. What if…

She breathed deeply, praying that would never come to pass.

* * * *

Thoughts of Hawk filled Isabelle’s mind again. He wanted to meet her in private tonight at eight. It was six now.

Her heart hammered in an uneven rhythm, and she cursed her reaction. No! She wouldn’t go to see him tonight, and definitely not in private. She must release her feelings for that man once and for all—and allow her husband into her heart instead.

Isabelle couldn’t do that without some kind of closure. She needed to tell that thief right to his face he could rot and live with the devil himself. She must let him know her feelings, and how she wanted him out of her life, especially now that she was married.

But tonight was out of the question. How could she explain it to Marcus? He’d certainly want to know why she was out of the house, meeting someone down by the docks. Somehow, she had to send a note to Hawk to reschedule their meeting. During the day would work much better.

She chuckled. He wouldn’t agree with that. The man in the black, silk mask definitely could not be seen in the light of day.

She entered the house, and the butler greeted her, ready to take her cape and bonnet. She nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Gentry. Has my husband returned from his meetings?”

“Yes, my lady. He’s in his study. He wanted me to send you to him when you returned.”

“Splendid.”

She tried not to hurry to the study, but she literally couldn’t wait to see Marcus. Strange how she’d missed him today.

The door stood open, so she peeked inside. He sat behind his desk, looking like he always did, wearing bright clothes and that ridiculous wig. In his hand he held a quill as he vigorously wrote on a paper. She cleared her throat, and his head snapped up.

“Come in, my dear.” He smiled.

“Am I disturbing you, my lord? If so, I shall come back—”

“Of course you’re not. Please, come in.” He stood and walked around the desk to meet her. “I have missed you today.” He took her hands and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“As have I.”

“What kept you entertained today?” He led her to the couch.

“I tried to familiarize myself with the town a little better.” Gently, he stroked her hand, his fingers so soft against her skin. The tenderness in his eyes nearly made her melt. “I ran across Mrs. Winters, too.”

“You did? How is she faring?”

“As you suspected, my father didn’t leave her enough money to return to England. However, she would like to meet with you about the matter, so please don’t tell her I spoke out of turn.”

He chuckled. “She’ll not hear it from my lips.”

From the mention of his mouth, she dropped her gaze there. Full, and so soft. Would he kiss her now? Would she allow it?

Just as she leaned forward, he lifted her fingers to his mouth, instead, brushing kisses along her knuckles. Why did he have to be so tender with her? It was harder to dislike him this way. Then again, he was her husband. Disliking him was unwise at this time.

“My dear, Isabelle.” His voice was low, mesmerizing. “Believe me when I say I want nothing more than to spend the remainder of the evening with you, showering you with my affection.” He frowned. “However, I have another appointment tonight, so I’ll not be at supper.”

Regret quickly replaced the giddiness that had blossomed in her chest. “When will you return?”

“Not until late, I fear.”

“Well, I shall miss you. I hope your meeting turns out well.”

“As do I, but I’ll be counting the minutes until I see you again.” He leaned closer and kissed her mouth briefly. “Perhaps tomorrow I can spend more time with my lovely wife.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps.”

On instinct, she pressed her lips to his, hoping to bring back the excitement he’d started inside her from yesterday. Slowly, his arms slid around her, pulling her closer. She pressed her hands against his chest, but not to stop him. The beat of his heart hammered in an erratic rhythm, just as hers. The muscles beneath her palms jumped, so she hesitantly ran her hands up to his neck.

Images of Hawk crept into her mind once again, and she tried to push them out. It would be different if her husband had been scrawny or bulky, but why did he have to have muscles like the highwayman?

Memories crashed through the barrier she’d tried to erect. Sadness consumed her, and she silently cursed the dreaded thief for once again breaking her heart.

She slowed the kiss until she could pull away. His gaze held so much tenderness. Desire coated his eyes. If not for the hint of blue, she’d have thought she stared at Hawk.

She shook away the thought. Her imagination played tricks on her again.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“No.”

“Thank you for kissing me the way you did.”

She blushed. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do. I know you’re not ready, but it thrills me that my kiss doesn’t repulse you.”

A smile tugged on the corners of her lips. “No, I’m not repulsed. How can I be when you’re so very tender with me? You are also extremely patient.”

Chuckling, he walked to his desk. “Yes, I have been patient, and I’ll continue it.” He turned his head and looked at her. “Because I don’t want to frighten you.”

“I certainly appreciate your thoughtfulness.” She stood and smoothed her dress. “I shall leave you now. Have a pleasant evening.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be assured a pleasant evening since you will be on my mind.”

Giddiness grew in her chest as she walked toward the door. “Good evening, my dear husband.”

His laugh echoed through the room, making her smile wide. If she wasn’t mistaken, she had actually flirted with him. And it felt right. Of course, he was her husband. Should she not like him even a little?

Climbing the stairs, she pondered the meeting scheduled with Hawk. If she met him tonight, her husband would not know. Dare she?

Chapter Seventeen

Marcus stood in the dark, abandoned building, waiting for Isabelle. She would come. He knew it like he knew the sun would rise tomorrow.

He ran his hand over his mask, making certain it was in place before sweeping his palm over the scarf covering his hair. He had to hide it so she wouldn’t see he’d cut it. Patting his fake mustache and beard, he knew he couldn’t risk Isabelle becoming suspicious of his identity. Several times since they married, she had stared deeply into his eyes, and he held his breath, waiting for her to recognize him. Thankfully, she didn’t. Could it be that while holding her prisoner and he wore a mask she didn’t see the true color of his eyes? He sincerely hoped.

A noise from out on the street pulled his attention to the window. He hurried and looked out the smudged glass, but didn’t see Isabelle. The full moon shone in the room, yet didn’t give the place a lot of light. He would stand close enough to let her see him, but not so close that she could see every detail.

It was nearly eight. His stomach knotted as he paced the floor. What would he say to her? Or would desire take over and make him pull her into his arms so he could kiss her? Since that kiss in the coach right after their wedding ceremony, all he’d wanted to do was hold and kiss her. Endlessly. Her kisses teased him, and tormented him. He longed for her more now than ever before.

After that kiss this evening, she was almost where he wanted. She had responded much better. Encouraged, he suspected it wouldn’t be too long until he coaxed her to become his wife in all aspects. But Hawk must see her tonight. Not because he wanted her in his arms like an addiction, but because he needed to know the truth. Was she a spy? And which side did she work for?

The door handle rattled, and he swung around, facing the front. Slowly, the door opened and Isabelle tiptoed in. His heart slammed against his chest.

“Come in, my dove,” he said in his deep, Hawk voice.

Her head jerked toward the sound. Through the semi-darkness he knew she finally spotted him because her eyes widened.

“Close the door.”

She hurried inside, following his instruction. Taking small steps, she walked his way, wringing her hands against her middle.

“I didn’t think I would see you again,” she said softly. Just as she reached him, she squared her shoulders and glared. “And I want to know why you didn’t keep it that way.”