Page 28 of The Duke of Aces
“Isadora, where do you think you are going?”
“I’m off to talk to Avondale. You can stay here and…and do what you do best. Nothing.”
Drake flinched at her words. “If my life were as simple as it appeared, I would have asked your sister to wed a long time ago.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And if you intend to continue to associate yourself with Avondale, your life will become far more complicated than anyone will ever know.”
Isadora turned slowly. “What are you inferring?”
“I’m simply advising you to stay away from Avondale.”
“Goodbye, Drake.” Isadora strode away, her heart was pounding in time to her footfalls.
Drake surprised her by following her. “Isadora, please heed my advice.”
She rounded on him. “Why should I listen to you?”
“You’re right.” Drake ran his hand through his already mussed hair. “Until I get my own affairs in order, I shouldn’t be advising on who you should or should not associate with.”
Isadora turned and took the remaining few steps toward her mare. She accepted the reins from Grant. And instead of her footman stepping up to assist, Drake interweaved his fingers and bent low to give her a lift to mount. “Be careful. And please don’t get caught, or you will be reciting your vows before week’s end.”
“No one will recognize me, and Greg will watch over me.” She smiled down and urged her mount forward. She was going to discover what all the mystery was that surrounded Avondale, and no one was going to stop her.
*
The amber liquidin Tom’s glass failed to ease the tension in his shoulders. He should retire for the night, but the uncertainty regarding tomorrow’s events had Tom pacing in front of the blazing fire in his study. He had returned home expecting orders awaiting him, instead, on his salver, sat an invitation to appear at Lord Torrance’s townhouse at the stroke of ten in the morn. His thoughts volleyed from anger and frustration to relief and excitement at the prospect of spending one more day in Town with Isadora.
A tendril of alertness ran down his spine. He placed his glass on the mantel and crept to stand next to the door that was locked. When the latch was released, he flung the door open to find Isadora rolling to her feet from a crouched position. There hadn’t been sufficient time for her to hide lock picks from sight, so how in tarnation had she picked the lock?
Eyes twinkling with mischief and lips curved into a wicked smile, Isadora peered up at him. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
He gave her his hand, and she placed her gloved hand in his and rolled to her feet. He grinned at the woman, who continued to amaze him. “A good eve to you, Isadora.” He stepped to the side and motioned for her to enter.
She strode across the room, stripped out of her cloak and gloves, placing them on the wingback chair next to the fire. “You are probably wondering why I’m here.”
Her body shivered. Brandy would warm the woman from the inside out. Tom reached for his glass and moved to the sideboard to refill his and to pour Isadora a generous finger. Tumblers in hand, he joined her by the fire. “Drink?”
She accepted the glass and swirled the liquid about. “French.” She lifted the glass and sniffed as if she were a connoisseur. “From the south and definitely smuggled.” Without hesitation, she raised the glass and took a healthy sip.
Isadora was bold and full of surprises. Not many people caught Tom by surprise. He often prided himself on being able to foretell a person’s actions, which in many instances had been the difference between life and death. When he was in his early twenties, he had volunteered for the most dangerous of missions to test his skills, but after inheriting the title and becoming Charlotte’s guardian, he had refrained from venturing too far from home and accepting assignments that had the potential to end on dire terms. Until he produced an heir, he would continue to adhere to the self-imposed restrictions. An image of a little boy with green eyes appeared, and he found himself stepping closer to Isadora. “Ready to share why you are here?”
She took another sip before cupping her glass with both hands. “You believed you were in danger earlier tonight.” Isadora redirected her gaze from the fire to him. “Don’t deny you signaled to Charlotte for support. I heard you snap your fingers. If I’m to seriously consider the position of duchess, I need to know if by marrying you there is the potential of placing my family at risk.”
“You are not concerned for your own welfare.”
“I can take care of myself, but I shall not willingly place any of my siblings or their spouses in jeopardy.”
Not surprised by her devotion, Tom replied, “Hypothetically, if I were to be an agent for the Crown, would you consider my proposal?”
“I knew it!” Isadora’s gorgeous green eyes came alive. “I knew you were a spy.” She placed her glass on the mantel and twirled on the ball of her foot to face him. “That is why you wish for a marriage of convenience. It’s the reason that you’ve chosen to marry me, well, I mean to marry someone who has her own secrets to keep.”
It wasn’t his reasoning, but Tom marveled at the woman’s logic, nonetheless. “Then you will marry me?”
“Understanding your motivations does assist me in making my decision, however, I need more time.”
With his departure looming, he was no longer willing to debate the issue. “We are running out of time.” He reached for her and wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her closer until she had to tilt her head back to see him. For once, he didn’t analyze the situation, he simply acted, lowering his mouth to hers.
Alone in his study, he had the privacy necessary to show her some of the wicked benefits she could expect if she agreed to wed. Isadora was a quick study, and it was she who teased his mouth open to deepen the kiss. Her bold actions heightened his response. The desperate need to taste more of her, share more of him than he ever dared to before, had Tom sliding his hands lower to her hips. Isadora responded enthusiastically, pressing closer. His palms shifted to cup her bottom, urging her to wrap her legs about him.
With her arms linked around his neck, Isadora complied with his silent request. He carried her across the room and sat her on the edge of his desk. The friction against his erect cock had him yearning to be wedged between her thighs and sheathing himself to the hilt. But she was an innocent, and he would not take her maidenhood before they wed. He had no restraint over his reaction to Isadora’s mewls of pleasure.
