Page 29 of One Night of Surrender
“She’s a writer?”Isabelle hadn’t known that.“What does she write?”
“I’ll let her tell you about that,” Val said, sounding a bit short.Was he still angry with her?Wasn’t she still angry with him?
Maybe a little.Mostly she was frustrated with her situation.She’d felt lucky to have been hired as a barmaid at a respectable establishment.It wasn’t her first choice in employment, of course, but given that she hadn’t been able to stay in Lord Barkley’s employ, she hadn’t possessed the luxury of passing it up.She’d planned to continue her search for a governess or teaching position and hoped her job at the Wicked Duke would be temporary.
The Wicked Duke… How had she not known immediately that it belonged to Val and Colehaven?They had been renowned as the wicked dukes.
She stood in front of a Grecian urn on the other side of the room from Val and stole a glance in his direction.He stared down at the hearth, his mouth twisted into a frown.
What on earth was she doing here?He’d been right—she couldn’t work in his tavern, and not just because she couldn’t afford to be seen there.She couldn’t work in his tavern because it washistavern.Because being around him only reminded her of what she’d lost.No, of what she’d never had.
And never would.
Now she found herself still in his vicinity ensconced with his grandmother and sister.She needed to find a new job fast.
“You don’t have to wait with me,” she said.
He looked over at her.“I don’t mind.”
“You should get back to the Feast of St.Valentine.”In truth, she was sorry to miss the festivities.It looked to be a smashing good time.“It is your day, after all.”
They’d laughed about that ten years ago.He’d given her a valentine and told her she had to accept it because it was his day.He’d made it himself and written several lines of truly abysmal poetry.She still had it, pressed between the pages of her beloved copy ofLes Liaisons dangereuses.
She wondered if he’d given valentines to anyone else.His wife, probably.Or not, since he’d indicated it hadn’t been a happy union.She left the urn and walked toward him.“Is there no one to whom you want to give a valentine?”
His gaze snapped to hers.“Are you flirting with me, Isabelle?”The question was a mix of teasing and darkness.The tone of it made her shiver and reminded her of how dangerous it was to be alone with him.Last night, she’d tested the bounds of temptation when she’d kissed him.
“No.I was simply making conversation.”She turned from him and went to the corner of the room where a large landscape hung.
It was some time before he spoke.“I’m sorry you feel cornered.”
She realized he sounded closer.Turning, she saw that he’d moved toward her but still stood several feet away.It felt as though they were circling each other like hunter and prey.Who was which?She refused to be the victim.
“I appreciate you saying that.”
“I do think you’ll be comfortable here, and it’s only temporary.”
“I just realized I may receive responses to inquiries at your address.I do hope you’ll forward my correspondence.”
“Of course.”He raked his hand through his hair, freeing that familiar lock from the style so that it fell across his forehead.“I hope you realize I’ve only been trying to help you.”
“And I hope you realize that my situation is far different from yours.I need employment.Furthermore, I like employment.I like feeling useful and providing for myself.”
“You like being independent.”
She clasped her hands in front of her waist and inclined her head.“Quite.”
“I would say that I’m sorry your husband left you in a state where you needed to provide for yourself, but you seem content.”
Oh, she’d been angry at first.He’d gambled away everything and had left her with what would have been a ruinous amount of debt if not for the money her father had left her.She’d vowed she would take care of herself and not rely upon anyone.
Commotion carried from the stairs into the drawing room.
“They must be home,” Val murmured, turning toward the door.
Isabelle straightened and squeezed her hands together.It was silly to be nervous—she’d met the dowager before—but she was nonetheless.Her ire was also pricking anew because Val had just reminded her of the promise she’d made to herself—that she would rely only upon herself.She ought to take her things and go right to Prudence’s.Not that she knew where that was…
It seemed she had nowhere else to go.
