Page 5 of A Night of Forever
There was something about Lady Victoria Northumberland. An unsettling coldness. She always appeared to be full of gaiety, but her eyes lacked warmth, and she was impossible to read.
If Lord Labourd thought Lady Victoria was the villain targeting the Libertine Scholars, Isobel could quite well believe it.
On the other hand, there was nothing Isobel could pinpoint as the cause of her discomfort with her stepmother. In fact, since Isobel’s father’s death eighteen months ago, Victoria had been anything other than the mean stepmother of fairy tales. But somehow Isobel always looked for an ulterior motive for whatever Victoria did.
Perhaps it was simply that Victoria had not seemed particularly sad, or indeed surprised, when her husband had died. Isobel would not have felt as uneasy had her father’s death not been the result of a suspicious fire.
“Do they?” Cassandra asked again. “Know each other?”
“I’m not certain.” Isobel managed to pull herself together. She was pretty sure they did not. “I didn’t think they’d been formally introduced.”
Cassandra raised one of her beautifully shaped eyebrows. “Perhaps their relationship is more informal. As a young widow, Lady Victoria cannot be blamed for seeking amusement with a man like Lord Labourd. I don’t mean to be rude, Isobel, but your father was rather old.”
Victoria and Lord Labourd were lovers? The very idea made Isobel want to walk over there and scratch the woman’s eyes out. But if Lord Labourd suspected Victoria, then he’d try to get close. She had to force her fingers to uncurl at her sides.
Just as Isobel thought the night couldn’t get any worse, the pair turned and looked her way. It was obvious she was the subject of their discussion. When Victoria gestured and laughed, Isobel wished the ballroom floor would splinter beneath her feet and swallow her in a cloud of dust.
Instead, caught in Lord Labourd’s hypnotic gaze, she watched, spellbound. Watched as Victoria’s hand slid down his chest, lower, lower, until her fingers brushed his groin—
Isobel gasped, and at the same time Victoria moved away, leaving Lord Labourd staring straight at Isobel with an intensity that made her feel she was some puzzle for him to solve.
She was not in league with Victoria.
She tried to catch her breath and move, because…
“Goodness,” Cassandra hissed. “He’s coming this way. He’s coming for you.”
Isobel both hoped and feared Cassandra was right. Lord Labourd was coming for her, and as he prowled closer all she could think was,Don’t faint. Dear God, don’t let me faint.
—
Arend Aubury, Baron Labourd, knew someone had been watching him as he’d danced with Evangeline. There was nothing unusual in that. Woman wanted his body, and men wanted his wealth. No, that wasn’t entirely correct. Women wanted his wealth too, but those were usually mothers with unwed daughters. It was amazing how money made some otherwise high-in-the-instep mamas overlook a French heritage and lowly title.
In this case, however, Arend’s sixth sense had told him his observers were none other than Lady Isobel, and her stepmother, Lady Victoria.
Interesting.
He was sure Victoria was the woman he was after.
Over the past several months, he and five of his friends—the Libertine Scholars, as they’d been called at Oxford, for their love of learning was equal to their pursuit of women—had been systematically hunted down by an unknown villain. They now knew that villain was a woman. They also knew she had owned the French brothel Fleur de Lily before she suddenly disappeared. It was also rumored she had married an English earl. That was where their trail had run cold.
After some investigations, however, they had narrowed the list of earls with young wives down to twelve. Victoria was one of them. Even more interesting, Lady Victoria’s life before she married the Earl of Northumberland was a mystery.
Arend loved mysteries. His eyes narrowed on his prey. He knew deep in his gut that Victoria was their villainess. What of her stepdaughter? Was she an accomplice?
The bitch Victoria had taunted him this evening. Their recent conversation had been full of double entendres. She’d played a malicious devil’s advocate regarding Isobel, almost as if she wanted him to investigate her stepdaughter.
And she’d touched him intimately. It was like being caressed by a scorpion, and just as arousing. But he’d played the game. Both of them were engaging in the dance of intrigue.
Was the young virginal-looking Isobel also party to murder? He hoped to hell she was, because on the dance floor he had felt her eyes upon him. Felt them as if they were her fingers. Their touch had made him burn.
If he could seduce Lady Isobel, he might get the answers he sought. Best of all, he might uncover the evidence he needed to stop Victoria before she hurt any more people he loved.
Seduction, however, was a dangerous strategy. If the lovely Lady Isobel was not party to Victoria’s evil plan, then he would be guilty of ruining an innocent’s reputation. And then…And then, his inconvenient conscience said,you might have to marry her.
Would that be so bad?
Yes.
