Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord Page 80

“Thank you,” she whispered again, rubbing the raw skin on her wrists.

“You know you will not be able to hide from him forever? ”

She nodded. “No more than you will be able to hide from Isabel.”

He winced. “I don’t imagine I am much in her favor right now.”

“It does not appear so, no.”

He followed her gaze over his shoulder to find Isabel standing in the doorway of the cottage. Rock and the two men were gone, and Nick wished, fleetingly, that he had left with them.

He did not like the look in her eyes.

The look that accused him of the very worst kind of betrayal.

Seventeen

Lesson Number Eight

Learn to love the errors of his ways.

You will find it difficult to believe, we know, but even lords as landable as these will have a flaw or two. Perhaps he laughs a touch too loudly, or his eyesight is less than perfect! Perhaps he has a rogue lock of hair which falls distractingly despite all attempts to tame it!

Embrace these flaws, Dear Reader! For it is in these peccadilloes that we find the charm and joy at the heart of any deserved match!

These lessons, well used, shall ensure that he adore you despite your own failings!

Do you not owe him the same?

Pearls and Pelisses

June 1823

He had lied to her.

Isabel stood in her darkened bedchamber looking out the window over the heath—the land that had been owned by generations of Townsends before it had been slowly parceled off and sold until, ultimately, there was little left for the current earl. She watched as the last rays of sunlight disappeared and the sky turned a brilliant scarlet, then faded into a deep, inky blue.

She had been standing there for hours, her land changing beneath her unseeing gaze, a single thought repeating itself over and over in her mind.

He had lied to her.

She should have known, of course. Should have predicted that something like this would happen. Should have known that he was not what he seemed, but instead the final straw—the one that would break the back of Minerva House.

She placed one hand on the windowpane, watching as the cool glass fogged beneath her fingers.

He had asked her to trust him. He had coaxed her into caring for him.

And, against her better judgment, she had.

She had trusted him not to hurt the girls. Not to hurt the delicate balance of Minerva House.

Not to hurt her.

And he had.

He’d been their enemy from the very beginning. Sent by the Duke of Leighton to find his sister, to uncover their secrets. To betray them.

And he’d done it in the worst possible way.

By making her believe in him.

She took a deep breath at the thought.

What a fool she had been.

Tears threatened and she closed her eyes tightly. She would not cry over this man … whom she had known for only four days. Whom she never should have brought to Minerva House. Whom she never should have allowed into her life.

What a terrible mistake she had made.

She had let herself be wooed by his pretty words and tempted by the promise of his touch.

Just as her mother had been.

The girls would never forgive her.

She would never forgive herself.

She pressed her head to the window, feeling the cool pane of glass against her brow as she breathed deeply, willing herself to stop thinking about him. Urging herself to think, instead, about how she was going to save them all now that their secrets had been laid bare, now that it was only a matter of time before all of London—all of England—knew who and where they were.

For some reason, the fear of discovery was nothing compared to the pain of his betrayal—the keen awareness that everything she had let herself believe might come next…

Would never come.

There was a soft knock at the door that stayed the tears from welling again.

She had ignored several earlier attempts to gain access to the room, but she could not bear the thought of being alone any longer.

“Enter.”

The door opened slowly, and Isabel was surprised to see Georgiana, her riot of blond curls glowing in the candlelight from the hallway beyond. It took the girl a moment to spot Isabel in the corner of the room.

She entered tentatively, stopping several feet from Isabel, considering her surroundings for long moments before she spoke, hands clasped in front of her. “I am sorry to disturb you …”

Isabel gave a humorless laugh. “If one of us should be apologizing, Georgiana, I assure you it should be me.”

Georgiana’s eyes widened. “Whatever for? ”

“I brought that man down upon you.”

The younger woman leveled Isabel with a frank look. “I assure you, Lady Isabel, you did no such thing.”

“Oh? You think he would have found his way here if I had not invited him to come for a visit? You think he would have discovered you if I had not been so foolish as to trust him? ”

“Yes.”

Isabel looked away.

“You do not know my brother, Isabel. He is the most imperious, commanding person I have ever known, and he has never been denied anything in his life. He is the eleventh Duke of Leighton. Do you know how far back a family tree must stretch to make eleven dukes? Each one more arrogant than the last? “ Georgiana shook her head. “Simon would have moved heaven and earth to find me. I am honestly surprised that we only had to deal with Lord Nicholas and two idiotic kidnappers. I would have expected my brother to force King George to send in his personal guard.” Georgiana placed her hand on Isabel’s arm. “You did not bring Lord Nicholas down upon me. I brought him down upon you. And for that, I apologize.”

The words coursed through Isabel and she sank to the seat under the window where she had been standing for hours. Indicating that Georgiana should join her, Isabel said quietly, “I am sorry that you have had such a brother looming over you.”