Page 31 of The Duke of Aces
“Not here, and not this morn.” Minerva turned to peer out the window as if the empty street was the most fascinating sight.
“Very well.” Tom inched closer, teasing her with his warmth. Unthinking, she took a half step back. Tom’s brow crinkled for a moment. For years, she had no desire to be close to another, except now she craved the warmth of Tom’s presence.
Isadora shuffled forward, eliminating the space she had placed between them. Yet, he remained a tad too far away from her. She wanted to feel his hands upon her, to wrap her arms about his neck and bring his lips… She stopped her line of thought before she acted upon them.
Tom leaned in to whisper, “I must journey to France.” His breath skimmed over the skin of her neck that he had tasted and nibbled upon hours ago.
From the corner of her eye, Isadora spied Minerva opening her mouth, but before she could say a word, Tom eased back a step and he continued loud enough for Minerva to hear without straining. “We shan’t be able to complete the remaining two events before the commencement of the Season, thus I’ve come today to inform you I forfeit my claim to Wembly Hall.”
The fog over her mind lifted. Tom’s words sunk in—he was leaving. She knew better than to inquire as to why he was leaving in front of Minerva, for he’d not be able to disclose the real reason anyway.
Infusing delight into her voice, Isadora said, “The Wicked Ladies will be pleased to hear I’ve secured our location once again for the entire Season.” She should be filled with joy. She’d accomplished the task, and her decision whether or not to seriously consider Tom’s proposal was no longer a pressing matter. She had asked for time, and time is what she received.
Wasn’t that what she wanted?
Isadora raked her eyes over the man before her. Tom was attractive both inside and out. He exuded masculinity she recognized that women would find hard to resist. She herself found herself immune to all others but the Duke of Avondale. Did Tom’s missions require him to employ his charms to obtain intel or gain the enemy’s trust? Isadora’s breath caught in her chest at the thought. Now that she considered the matter, marrying a spy might not be the adventure she was looking for after all.
She wanted…she’d find a man who preferred the country, a recluse like her sister Diana had. No. A recluse wouldn’t do. She enjoyed being in London far too much for that. Mayhap a man more like her brother Benedict. No. His scientific experiments had him holed up in his lab for days. She wanted… Hmm… Did she know what type of man she would be willing to sacrifice her freedom, her membership to the Wicked Ladies Salon for?
Her gaze collided with Tom’s. Isadora forced the corners of her lips up to form a smile.
Tom returned the gesture and said, “Grand.” Lowering his voice he continued, “I hope you are happy. I’ll be receiving an earful from my peers when they discover we shall have to convene near the docks this year.”
She didn’t want to talk or think about the upcoming Season. She wanted to ask him why he was leaving for the Continent? When did he expect to return? Why was he leaving so suddenly? Her mind continued to formulate a multitude of questions.
When Tom raked his hand through his hair, she noticed the lines of worry at the corners of his eyes. The man was clearly distraught. He might be facing a life-or-death situation, and here she was standing beside him, wrestling with thoughts she already knew futile.
She wanted to see his smile, for it might be the last time she saw him. “Hmm… And here I thought the added element of danger would appeal to the gentlemen of your set.” Her eyes widened as the double meaning hit her.
Tom grinned and chuckled. “Mayhap you are correct. If I phrase the news carefully, they might indeed be willing to traverse across Town to partake in…”
“In?” She wagged her brows at him.
“In vice and folly. Although I won’t admit to having said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“And despite my better judgment, I believe you.” He bowed and said full-voiced, “A good day to you, Lady Isadora.” He spun on his heel and left.
Lady Isadora. The use of the honorific implied that he was distancing himself. Which was for the best. He was leaving, and she had much to do. Then why did her chest ache and her stomach feel as though she needed to retch?
Minerva wrapped her arms around Isadora. “He’ll return, and hopefully by then, you will have sorted out in your mind what it is you want.”
“I know what I want. Freedom to partake in activities that provide me joy. Marriage to any man, let alone to a duke, would only hinder me, not grant me more freedom.”
“Is it really freedom that you seek? You have the luxury of partaking in numerous scandalous activities now, more than what most ladies would even dare to dream of, yet you still are searching for…well that is for you to determine. I suspect merely being in Avondale’s vicinity sparks ideas. Although it appears that you are not ready to admit to the influence His Grace has upon you.”
As stealthy as she had moved to embrace Isadora, Minerva released her and moved back to peer out the window at the empty street. “It’s rather quiet in Town when the Season is not in full swing. I rather like it.”
Drake’s words from the prior evening echoed through her thoughts.She’s planning something…something extremely complex.Over the years, Isadora and Diana had debated the likelihood of Minerva scheming to disappear.
Was it possible to hide in plain sight?
If anyone could achieve it, it would be Minerva.
With Tom gone, Isadora could refocus on the Wicked Ladies Salon and keep close tabs on her sister. Those were the things that mattered, not the dull ache in her chest that appeared as soon as Tom had left.
Chapter Sixteen
