Page 45 of A Marquess' Season of Secrets
“I have noticed how your eyes seem to look towards the street as though you expect to see someone.”
Nash shook his head. “I’m merely watching people go about their business.”
“Then you would have seen the beautiful servant girl down the street,” Mr Campbell commented. “I first saw her looking through my shop window. She waved to me and gave me the sweetest smile. She reminded me of my Penelope when she was that young servant girl’s age.”
Nash looked down the road again and still couldn’t see Isabella because of all the men standing around.
“That group of men have followed her since she arrived in town,” the tailor said. “The poor dear has not noticed how she is being watched. I recognise one of the men as Michael Myers, Lord Kinsey’s youngest son. The other young men are likely his friends from Eton.”
Nash didn’t know who Lord Kinsey or his son was, but he didn’t appreciate knowing that the young man and his friends were watching Isabella. A spurt of jealousy and protectiveness made Nash want to march right over there and tell the men to stop bothering her, but the tailor’s presence made him pause and think his actions through.
Mr Campbell was well known for spreading news around the town. One only had to be with him for a few minutes to know what was happening in everyone’s lives.
“Do those men not care that they might frighten her?” Nash asked instead.
“Men tend to lose common sense when a beautiful young woman is about. However, they are only staring at her. None of them has approached her.”
That was some comfort, but Nash would prefer it if the men were nowhere near Isabella.
“I must return to my shop, Your Grace,” the tailor announced. “I have an appointment soon, but I shall send word when your coats are ready. I bid you a good day.”
Nash nodded his head at the man and waited for him to disappear into his shop before going to the next street lamp and leaning against it. Isabella had once again disappeared from view, but the men were still visible.
Where is she? How is it that I have not seen her in some minutes?
Nash was tempted to go over to the area where the men stood together to see if Isabella was in their midst. The woman might need help but did not know how to express it with all the men watching her.
The group of men suddenly parted down the middle as though someone had pushed them apart, and Isabella came walking through. Nash was relieved to see her again, and this time promised himself that he would keep a better eye on her. Someone had to watch over her when so many men were around her.
How can she not see that she has them all spellbound? They cannot stop looking at her, and she is entirely oblivious.
Isabella stopped at a flower vendor and bent at the waist to smell the bouquets closest to her. The vendor picked a bunch of violets and offered them to Isabella, but she declined them. She pointed at the narcissus and spilt a few coins into her palm from a weathered sack.
The vendor appeared to refuse the money and kept waving his hands for her to put it away and take the flowers for free. He didn’t appear to understand that Isabella did not want to take anything without paying for it, but the vendor simply kept insisting.
Shaking his head, Nash made a mental bet as to who would win the argument. He believed Isabella would win, but he never got a chance to find out when a gust of strong wind came out of seemingly nowhere and whipped her cap off, freeing her auburn tresses.
The woman’s locks tumbled down her back, falling to her waist. The entire world paused as though it held its breath to see how the men would react. Even Nash held his breath, partly in awe of her beauty and partly in anticipation of what would happen next.
Isabella lowered her purchases to the ground and put her hand to her hair. Her movements were hurried and clumsy, communicating her distress. Her reaction appeared to mobilise the men surrounding her because they all went scrambling for her cap, some tripping over each other as they tried to retrieve it for her.
Others dove for the parcels on the ground, startling her enough to walk backwards into the vendor’s stand. The man didn’t seem to mind and began to wave his hands at the other men who took no notice of him. Nash wanted nothing more than to walk to Isabella and get her out of the situation, but he was worried about how he might appear if he did that.
She might be able to handle herself, but I should continue to watch just to ensure her safety.
Isabella quickly plaited her hair and twisted it around before tucking it into a low bun. The hair was now out of the way, but the damage had been done. Isabella took her cap and parcels from the men who had helped her, curtsying her thanks to them. She turned away from them, only halting her steps when one of the men blocked her path.
Nash took an instinctive step forward, his entire body humming with the need to run to her and take her away from all the stress. However, he held back and simply waited. Isabella looked up at the tall man, her lips moving briefly before the man gave a little bow and moved to the side.
Nash felt somewhat satisfied that the scoundrel had moved aside, or he might have intervened and perhaps caused a scene that would have been on everyone’s lips by this evening.
Isabella walked up the street towards him, but she didn’t seem to notice him ahead of her. She was likely concentrating on getting to her next destination or simply trying to get away from the annoying men.
Nash had picked up on her single mindedness over time and inwardly praised her for it, but he wished she could be less determined at that moment and look up. The men had continued to follow her, and as they neared him, he could hear them ask many questions about her life.
“Where do you work?” a gangly youth enquired.
“I prefer not to give away such information, sir,” Isabella replied.
