“How do I know he’ll protect them?”

He pulled back as if he had received a physical blow. “Did you suggest such to him? ”

She hedged. “I may have.”

“Well. I don’t imagine he responded well to that.”

“No.”

“There are few things I know with certainty, Lady Isabel. But this is one of them: If Lord Nicholas St. John vows to fight on your side, so he shall.”

She was immediately chagrined. “I did not …”

“It sounds as though you did, Isabel,” Lara said. “Mr. Durukhan, would you like some tea? ”

Rock turned to Lara, giving her his undivided attention. “I should very much like some tea, Miss Caldwell. Thank you.”

Isabel watched as Lara poured a cup of tea for Rock, peering up from her task with a soft smile. When he matched it, Isabel felt something flare in her chest. A longing for such a moment—filled with sweetness. There was something quite enticing about the obvious tentative interest between the two.

The moment was gone in an instant, and Rock had returned his attention to Isabel. “You must, of course, do what you think is best for your home and your staff, Lady Isabel. But you would do well to remember that Nick is a great ally. And he understands the seriousness of secrets. He would not like me saying so, but he is not without several of his own.”

Isabel was not surprised by the words. There was something deeply compelling about Lord Nicholas St. John—a mystery that seemed to lurk beneath the surface, a darkness that she had witnessed firsthand when she was in his arms.

It was something that felt familiar. Something that made her believe—after all these years of thinking that the world was against her—that there might be someone who understood her. Who could help her.

Perhaps she could trust him.

That was, if she had not completely alienated him.

“I made him rather angry, I think.”

There was encouragement in Rock’s smile. “Nick is not one to stay angry for long.”

“I am going to tell him everything.” Her audience watched her carefully, no one speaking. “You realize that this will change everything. Once he knows, I cannot take it back.” Isabel took a deep breath, as though steeling herself for battle. “I am not doing it for me. I’m doing it for Minerva House. For James. For the earldom. Not for me.”

She had to believe that. For sanity’s sake.

Lara reached across the table to take Isabel’s hand. “He can help us.”

Isabel looked at her cousin for a long moment, then turned to Rock, meeting his dark, serious gaze. He was watching her carefully, as if assessing her character. Finally, he nodded once. “You are precisely the kind of woman that he needs.”

She blushed. “Oh … I am not …”

“Maybe not,” he agreed, “but you are it, nonetheless.”

Her stomach roiled at the words, and she was immediately nervous. But she could not back down now. She squared her shoulders and headed for the door, ready to search until she found him.

“Isabel?” Gwen called after her. When she turned back, the cook said, “Show interest in his work. Gentlemen like ladies who share their entertainments.”

Isabel gave a short laugh. “Pearls and Pelisses? Still?”

Gwen smiled. “It has worked so far.”

Sarcasm laced Isabel’s tone when she replied. “Oh, yes, it’s working brilliantly.”

“Well, it would do, if you were following it more carefully. Also, do not be afraid to be close to him!”

Isabel looked to the ceiling for patience. “I am leaving now.”

Gwen nodded once. “Good luck!”

Isabel spun on one heel, wishing that Pearls and Pelisses had offered up Ten Ways to Apologize to London’s Lords to Land.

Unfortunately, in this, she was on her own.

Twelve

Lesson Number Five

Cultivate interest in your lord’s interests.

Once your discreet first meeting has successfully garnered the gentleman’s attention, it is time to offer thoughtful and unwavering companionship for his pursuits. Any great man will have masculine interests, but remember that there is always a way for you to remain relevant despite your womanliness.

Does your lord love his horseflesh? Perhaps he would like an embroidered blanket upon which to find his seat! And do not be afraid, Dear Reader, to be close to him!

Pearls and Pelisses

June 1823

Isabel stood at the entrance to the statuary, watching Nick work.

The storm had cast the room in an unearthly green pall, and the thunder and howling wind outside had hidden her arrival from him, so she could watch him unheeded. Whether from the light, or from the tension in his frame, or from the contents of the room, he seemed immense, even as he bent over a notebook, scribbling notes on a nearby statue.

She had never met a man like him. He was broad and firm, and his surroundings made it impossible for an onlooker not to compare him to the marbles—these great, ancient sculptures designed to honor and celebrate the perfect form.

He put them to shame, all wide shoulders and long legs and sinewy power. She watched as one thick lock of hair fell across his forehead, catching between his brow and the silver rim of his spectacles. This was the first she had seen of the glasses—an incongruous addition to this daunting man, an addition that served only to make him even more tempting.

She caught herself at the thought. When had spectacles become tempting?

When had this man become so tempting?

She was instantly nervous about what was to come. He so confused her—one moment, she wanted him gone, and the next, she wanted him here. For as long as he could stay.