Page 84 of A Night of Forever
“Damn you, Maitland.” Fists clenched, Arend took a step closer to the towering and scowling nobleman. “One more word and I’ll—”
“That’s enough.” Isobel stepped into the room and closed the door. “Quite enough. From both of you. What I wish to say is no secret. Embarrassing, but not secret. As for you, Your Grace”—she swept Maitland head to toe with disdainful contempt and then skewered him with a cold stare—“youwaituntil Marisa hears what you just said to me.”
Maitland’s face flushed, but she ignored him and, turning away, took a chair by the fire. To Arend’s amusement, it happened to be Maitland’s.
“I feel the need for something stronger than tea,” she said. “Here, in a smugglers’ paradise, there should be plenty of fine French brandy.”
“Of course.” Arend had to admire her courage. Confronted by five large, angry men, she appeared as calm as if she were having afternoon tea with her friends.
Philip poured her brandy, Hadley and Sebastian righted fallen chairs and rearranged the seating, and soon everyone was settled in their seats to hear Isobel’s explanation of the morning’s events.
Isobel sighed. “I know you’re going to reprimand me, but I left the house this morning.”
“Why?” Arend tried to remain calm. “I told you we had to stay hidden. Philip and I were the only ones allowed to leave, and in disguise. If Victoria knows we are here, she may well run before we can find her.”
Isobel shook her head. “She’s not running. In fact, after my conversation with Dufort this morning, I’ll swear she’s going to attack again.”
“So,” Maitland growled, “you admit you met with Dufort.”
“No.” She looked Maitland straight in the eye, refusing to cower. “I did not meet him. I followed him. I saw him from my bedroom window, walking up the street as bold as brass. So I slipped out to follow him.”
Then why were you kissing him?Arend had to bite his tongue to stop from asking the question he was desperate to have answered.
Maitland stared first at him, and then at Isobel. It was a cold, hard, unforgiving look. “And?”
“And”—her mouth twisted, and for the first time Arend thought he saw uncertainty in her face—“Dufort gave me a message for you.” When they remained silent, she continued quietly, “He said that if you don’t leave Deal immediately, one of your wives will die.”
“I’ll kill her.” Maitland shoved to his feet, cursing. “I swear I’ll kill her.”
Worried that he meant Isobel, Arend started to rise.
Sebastian shook his head and gestured for him to keep his seat. “The women are well protected at Grayson’s.”
“And he has most of Colbert’s men there,” Philip said.
“But Marisa is here,” Maitland snarled. “Not in London.”
The men all started talking at once, each trying to be heard over the other.
“I think it was a ruse.”
Isobel’s voice wasn’t loud, but it stopped Maitland in his tracks. “Do you indeed?” he said, with a ducal bite to his tone.
Arend decided this woman who held his heart in a vise was far too clever for her own good. “Why is that?” he asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she said. “He could have snatched me and used me for leverage. Instead, he merely”—she hesitated, her face flushing a rosy red—“kissed me and delivered his warning.”
Arend knew what Maitland was going to say the moment he opened his arrogant mouth.
“Perhaps Dufort is your lover,” he said. “And, knowing Arend saw you kissing Dufort like a strumpet in the street, you’re trying to distance yourself from him and your stepmother.”
Isobel paled, and her eyes sought Arend’s. “You saw me?”
He nodded. “I too had been trailing Dufort.”
Her chin lifted but her mouth trembled. “I did not willingly kiss him. He pulled me into an embrace before I could stop him.”
He tried to read her, but, as usual, he began to doubt what his eyes clearly saw: innocence. Her eyes held his. There was no guilty slide away. Her expression remained calm, but there was hurt in the set of her shoulders, and her trembling lips firmed.
