“Why did you let her do that?”
Ridge spun around and grasped the other man by his jacket lapels. He’d never laid a hand on any of his fellow agents before, but he was at the end of his patience. “Like I had any other choice in the matter,” he snarled. “Do you imagine I could fight someone like a marquess when it comes to his daughter? I don’t have that sort of power at my disposal.”
Logan’s cold blue eyes were hard chips of ice as they faced off with one another. “Then I guess you’re not the man I thought you were, Claymoore.”
Ridge abruptly released him. “I’m not going to make things worse for Isabella and become a wedge between her and her family. I think she’s been through enough already, don’t you?”
Logan snorted. “Spoken like a true arsehole.” This time, he was the one who stepped forward. “If you can’t see by now that the only thing Isabella truly wants is you, then perhaps you don’t deserve her after all.”
As Montgomery stalked off, Ridge shoved a hand through his hair. He glared at the front door of the manor and contemplated his options. He could either march up those steps and confront Lord and Lady Ashfield, demanding that they grant him an audience — or he could do things his way.
As he mounted the horse, he didn’t look back, but urged the animal forward.
There was no time to waste if he wished to recruit further reinforcements.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Isabella stood at the parlor window and held back the threat of acidic tears as she saw Ridge ride away, a slight bit of dust kicking up at his departure.
“Isabella.” Reluctantly, she turned back to where her mother sat stiffly on the burgundy velvet settee and held a cup of tea. “Your father will be here any moment. We shouldn’t wish to keep him waiting.”
Knowing there was no use arguing, Isabella did as she was bid, and sat across from her mother. The marchioness poured her a cup of tea, but while Isabella held it in her grasp, she wasn’t interested in drinking it. Her dreams for a happy ending had just been dashed upon the rocks like a wrecked ship.
Thankfully, her father entered the room, and she found something else to focus on. “My dear girl.”
Tears stung Isabella’s eyes as they embraced. She’d always been more comfortable speaking with him, because they were so much alike. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d loved his bushy moustache, which had turned from dark to salt-and-pepper over the years.
“I’m relieved to see you looking so well after suffering such travails.”
“Travails that she initially brought down upon herself,” her mother was quick to point out with a decided sniff. “If it weren’t for your unruly nature, Isabella, we would still be in London at this very moment, preparing for the upcoming autumn entertainments.”
“Alice, that’s enough.”
It wasn’t often that Isabella had heard her father take such a firm tone with her mother, but it generally wasn’t without good reason. She was glad that he used it now, for the marchioness pursed her lips together and said no more.
As Lord Ashfield took a place beside his wife, he looked across at his daughter. “I’m sure you know by now that Lord Liverpool paid a call on us and explained the recent… developments of your nonexistent marriage.” At Isabella’s nod, he said, “I believe that I may have found a solution to this unfortunate situation you find yourself in. Lord Barnaby is willing to overlook this slight error–”
Isabella couldn’t hear anymore. She held up her hand and pleaded, “Stop.” She took a long, deep breath and pushed forward when he remained silent. “I’m sorry to have put you both through so much in the past few weeks, but trust me when I say it hasn’t been easy on me either. I thought Simon’s affections were genuine, but I was wrong. I admit that. But I cannot agree to another loveless union.”
Her father sighed heavily. “I don’t see any way around it if you are to be accepted in polite society.”
This was where she would lay all her cards on the table, and pray for a winning hand. “Perhaps I don’t intend to return to London. Ever.”
“How can you say something so preposterous?” her mother blurted, unable to remain silent no longer. “Of course you must do your duty as a Resenfeld.”
Isabella threaded her hands together and dared to plunge forward. “That might be rather difficult to do if I’m in America.”
Silence. Then her mother demanded, “Is this some sort of a jest? If so, I don’t find it very amusing.”
Isabella glanced at her. “I’m not laughing, am I?”
“You’re serious about this?” came her father’s gruff voice.
She turned her attention back to her father. “Yes. I am. I have the dowry that Simon stole. If you will permit me to keep it, it will give me a rather decent start in New York.”
Her mother’s face turned almost purple with rage as she rose to her feet. “This is all that Aberswyth girl’s doing, isn’t it? Filling your head with all sorts of nonsensical ramblings!” She pointed her finger at her husband. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea for Isabella to rub elbows with such a bold, forward-thinking young woman.”
“It’s not Korina’s fault, Mama.” Isabella felt it was necessary to defend her friend since she wasn’t there to do it. “I’ve made this decision on my own.” Maybe that was a small, white lie, but she wouldn’t dare explain about the secret pact that she had made with her friends. “I want to explore someplace different… somewhere new without all the strictures placed upon me here.”
“So you can muddle that up as well and come crawling back home when you’ve lost all respectability?” Isabella jerked at her mother’s harsh words, for they were as effective as a slap in the face. “You’re wrong, Isabella. You believe that you are embarking on this fabulous journey, when it will be nothing more than another disappointment.”
At last, her father sighed. Isabella looked up, hoping that he might see things her way, but instead, he said rather grimly, “I fear your mother is right on that score, my dear. America is undoubtedly a wonderful place, but it has had a government for a short time, whereas England is steeped in history and order. Perhaps someday you will be fortunate enough to visit, but this is your home, where the daughter of a marquess belongs and who should be married to someone befitting her lineage.” With that, he stood and shifted his gaze away. “I’m sorry, but I can’t permit you to embark on this endeavor. I will message Lord Barnaby and let him know the ceremony will take place at Ashfield Hall by the week’s end.”
Isabella watched her father walk away with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I hope that puts an end to all of this foolish talk,” her mother snapped. “Now go upstairs and rest before dinner. You’re looking pale, and I shouldn’t wish you to catch an ague before the wedding.”
Dismissed, Isabella stood and left the room. But as she climbed the stairs to her chamber, she felt nothing more than a calm resolve.
She now knew what must be done.
While she would have preferred to have her parents’ approval, she intended to follow through on her original plan and go to New York. She had already passed the age of majority, and since she no longer had to wait for her trust to be released to her on her twenty-fifth birthday, the funds from her dowry already sitting in the bottom of her trunk, it appeared that she was an independent woman of means.
The single remaining issue at this point, would be if she could make the arrangements within the next day or two and board a ship for America before her whereabouts were discovered. Until she was free on open water, her father’s word was law — unless she was married, and then her husband ruled.
Isabella clenched her fists, determined not to be another helpless female in a world ruled by men. She had survived the Smuggler’s City, so she was confident she could manage in the New World.
In her chamber, she rang for her maid and paced the floor until Claudia arrived. “Yes, my lady?”
“I’m leaving for London tonight. Please pack the nece
ssities, along with the funds from my trunk.”
Claudia hesitated. “Am I traveling with you?”
Isabella had given that much thought. She walked over and took the other woman’s hands in her own. With moisture welling in her eyes, she said, “I’m afraid this is one journey that I must make on my own, but as soon as I’m settled I will send for you. And in New York, you will no longer be my maid, but simply my friend. I intend to break down all these barriers that set us apart here.”
Claudia embraced her with a sob. “I will miss you dreadfully, my lady.”
“And I, you,” Isabella whispered. As she pulled back, she added, “But I promise that we will see each other again very soon.”
***
While Isabella didn’t feel much like eating anything that night, she forced herself to do so, for God knew when she’d have such a tempting fare on her upcoming travels. But she remained convinced in her heart that this was the right thing to do. The thought of being chained to someone for the rest of her life, being his broodmare, was nothing short of a prison sentence. Her parents might as well have thrown her in Newgate and tossed away the key.
And Ridge…
She swallowed the lump that lodged in her throat and firmly pushed him out of her mind. It was apparent, after he’d rode away that afternoon, that he wasn’t prepared to fight for her and she didn’t have the time to wait any longer.
Isabella listened as her mother and father talked about her marriage plans, as if she wasn’t even in the room. At the end of the meal, she politely excused herself and went to her bedchamber, where the adventure of her new life was about to begin.
She sat and talked with Claudia, laughing and reminiscing about their experiences through the years, until the clock struck the appointed hour of midnight. Claudia had already promised her that her mare would be saddled and ready.
With a deep breath, Isabella steadied herself and then picked up her valise. Attired in her deep blue riding habit, boots, bonnet, and cloak, she silently made her way down the servants’ stairs with Claudia behind her. They had decided it would be best if she came along as a distraction until Isabella was safely outside.
Without anyone to bother them, Isabella paused at the door and hugged her maid one last time. “I’ll write the moment we land.”
She turned and headed across the green lawn, thankful that her dark cloak blended into the shadows around her.
But just as she was about to reach that stables, one of the dark figures abruptly moved into her path. She brought her valise up, intending to use it as a weapon, but lowered it with a sigh when she spied Logan. “Mr. Montgomery. You gave me quite a fright.” She paused with a frown. “I thought my father released you from your duty and instructed you to return to London.”
“That’s what I had intended as well,” he returned evenly. “But then after I heard what was planned for you, I realized you might try something like this, so I decided to hang around.” He lifted a brow. “As if I would allow our only female spy to risk the treacherous streets of London at night without a proper escort.”
Isabella couldn’t help but laugh. “A lady spy, am I? In that case, I would be honored to have you by my side.”
His grin was full of amusement and Isabella couldn’t help but think that he would be a perfect match for Korina. They certainly had the same sense of dry humor.
Unfortunately, her matchmaking skills would have to wait.
Once she and Logan were mounted on their prospective horses, he regarded her with a lifted brow. “Ready?”
When she gave a brief nod of her head, he spurred his horse forward. Sending up a silent prayer to the heavens, she did the same.
***
Isabella was glad when the glow of the city rose in the distance. It was still dark by the time they rode into the outskirts of London, where she blew out a relieved breath. She’d never ridden in the middle of the night without the security of a carriage, and it would have been rather daunting to do so on her own without Logan’s calm presence beside her.
Although she hadn’t talked to him much before then, her focus generally riveted on Ridge, she found Mr. Montgomery to be rather charming company. He regaled her with tales of his youth, and she had laughed more than once. “I daresay you paint a picture of a rather mischievous young boy,” she teased.
“You could say I kept my governess on her toes,” he said with a wink, and then, as if a curtain descended over his expression, he became pensive. “But it all changed when I went away to school.”
“I can’t imagine that to be true,” she countered. “As an agent, I’m sure that boy is still inside of you somewhere.”
She saw his jaw clench, even in the shadows that surrounded them. “I’m not referring to myself.”
As he fell silent, so did Isabella. It was obvious that his past was a painful subject and it was best not to push him too far, especially since he’d done her a service by assisting in her flight from Ashfield Hall, ensuring that she made it to her destination safely.
As they rode along the streets of Mayfair, Isabella pointed to a magnificent, white-columned mansion on the corner. It was one of the most impressive structures in the entire area. “That’s where my friend, Korina, is staying.”
“Indeed.”
She turned her head at the contemplative sound in Logan’s voice and saw that he was looking at the building with a rather odd expression on his face, almost as if he were trapped in the past surrounded by some rather unwanted memories.
Something tingled at the back of Isabella’s mind, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. But then she noticed something even more disturbing than that.
But before she could put her fears to voice, Logan said, “It doesn’t appear as if anyone is home.”
Isabella sighed heavily. Now she was truly stuck. Korina was to be her saving grace, but she should have known something was wrong when she didn’t reply to her last missive right away. But knowing the incomparable, Mrs. Aberswyth, she’d likely dragged her daughter to an impromptu house party in the country for the next week.
Unfortunately for Isabella, she couldn’t wait that long. She could have gone to Alyssa Breyton in the interim, but she had gone to Bath for the summer with her Aunt Pearl. “Now what am I going to do? I was relying on Korina’s assistance.”
Logan seemed to ponder this for a moment. “I can’t very well have you coming home with me.” He winced. “The sort of establishment where I have lodgings isn’t for the faint of heart, so I suppose that leaves one other option.” He looked at her. “But you’re going to have to trust me.”
Isabella wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “Meaning?” she dared to inquire.
“Follow me.”
She did as he asked, but when they left the reputable streets of the West End and headed for the docks, she began to wonder if he wasn’t actually leading her to further peril.
Then he stopped and dismounted in front of a bawdy house, and she couldn’t keep her mouth from falling open. “This is where you want me to stay?”
He shrugged. “It’s as good a place as any. And I have a particular friend at Millicent’s who might be able to help your plight.”
As he walked toward the door, Isabella found that her feet refused to move. “Did you say… Millicent’s?”
He paused. “I see you’re familiar with the name.”
“I am.” She swallowed heavily. “Will Ridge be here?”
“It’s hard to say.”
Isabella wasn’t sure what to think of that, but without much choice except to confront Mr. Claymoore should they come face to face, she dared to walk inside.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Thank ye, Ridge.” Kitty fluttered her lashes at him. “Ye always were good with yer hands. Are ye sure I can’t entice ye t’ stay awhile?”
Ridge smiled, but he didn’t engage her any further than a distant politeness. In the past he might have been inclined to take the lady up on her offer of pay
ment for his help in fixing a loose knob on her wardrobe door, but Isabella had changed all of that and there was no turning back. “Although it is a tempting offer, I must regretfully decline.”
She pouted delicately. “I ’ope she knows ’ow lucky she is t’ have a man like ye.”
Ridge smiled, but didn’t reply as he held out his arm. “Shall I escort you downstairs to the parlor? It would be a shame for that lovely plum gown to go to waste.”
Kitty tossed her long, brown hair and threaded her arm through his, her generous breasts pressing against him in a familiar manner. “That’s very gallant o’ ye, Ridge.”
They were halfway down the staircase when Ridge spied Montgomery’s tall countenance. He clenched his jaw, trying to decipher what his purpose could possibly be for standing there when he was supposed to be watching over Isabella.
But just as he was about to address Logan, another figure shifted and brought a lady’s profile into view. His lungs caught, for when she turned her head, he locked eyes with the woman who had taken hold of his very soul and refused to let go. But as her gaze shifted to Kitty, her entire expression showed her hurt and betrayal before she quickly glanced away. She’d obviously arrived at the wrong conclusion, and that wouldn’t do. But before he spoke with Isabella, he had to find out exactly what the hell was going on.
“Ah, there you are, Ridge.” Millicent’s red lips curved upward as he joined the trio in the foyer. “We were just discussing you.”
“I’m sure you were,” he returned flatly. Kitty was still clinging to him, so he gently disengaged himself from her and turned his focus on Logan with a dark frown. “What are you doing here?” He paused. “Has Simon returned?” He clenched his fists at the very thought, hoping that was the case, so he could finally unleash his anger on the bastard.
It was Isabella who answered. “Actually, Mr. Montgomery was kind enough to escort me to London. I intend on traveling to America as soon as the arrangements can be made.” For the first time, Ridge noticed the valise she held tightly in her grasp. “Unfortunately, my contact in London appears to have been delayed.”
Isabella's Secret Summer Page 22