Isadel stood and warmed her hands, staring at her image in the silvered mirror. "So how can you be confident that I am what he wants? Your maids are openly incredulous."
"Dear, you're a female that's breathing, one that has somehow made a man who chose to separate himself from everyone open up to you. You're exactly what he wants. Hugh has always been different. And I'm glad he is no longer in love with Betsy St. Claire. Her parents used to visit during the summers. They were close to his father and tried to encourage an attachment. Then Henry died and Hugh went to war. I thought they'd given up. I for one was relieved when she married that Mr. Moldona. Hugh needs to be free of the past with someone who could admire his good qualities."
He did have good qualities. And Isadel knew he understood her rage. "He has a great deal of patience."
"I bet you keep him sharp, on his toes. But, never bruise his ego. Build it. That's the difference in why I've been elevated twice. Most women don't get that."
A brow popped of its own volition. Curiosity was Isadel's undoing. She settled down beside Lady Rhodes. "You won his father over by fanning him with flattery? Is it so easy to lie?"
"No lies, just choosing what to focus upon, the good over the bad. The bad is always there. Let that be another's job to rub his nose in it. You are his treasure. His reward. The late Bannerman saw that and made an honest woman of me."
Isadel caught her gaze, shocked at how practical the advice sounded, something like her mother would say, just not in such a Cyprian sexually tinged manner. Hugh was right. Her mama would approve of none of this, not being a mistress and not hunting a killer.
"A woman doesn't have to stay a mistress, Isadel, not when your sweetheart is single like Hugh or widowed. He just needs prodding."
This Lady Rhodes was worse than the marriage makers back in Badajoz. Isadel folded her arms, snuggling deeper in Papa's jacket. "Marriage is not on my mind."
"It should be. There's no security without it, especially for an exotic girl like you. Oh, he'll sign the papers that will afford you a settlement upon a break, but that will only last until you have another arrangement. How many times do you want to find a new benefactor? You must think of that. Youth seems like an impatient stew. You want to stir here or there, sometimes at the same time. But the kettle will cool down, so you have to know what happens next."
The lady had sermonized mistress making as if it were a recipe. It sounded rational to Isadel. Oh, her brainbox must still be rattled by the hulk of man and his gigantic doubts about Moldona. "Lady Rhodes, your thoughts are kind, but this thing between Hugh and myself will not last."
"Please, tell me you are not already contemplating new arrangements. Don't break Hugh's heart. If you can't see how much he cares, then you're daft. Not seeing you for days had him rattled enough to come find you and spend time in my domain. He hated coming to me, and I know he hated asking for my help. Rest assured, he will sign your contract."
She wanted to correct her, to tell her that this was a ruse to catch a killer, and it had nothing to do with money or sentiment. But that was a lie too. Hugh said he desired her. That he liked her as she was and her stubborn heart beat like it had gone crazy when he held her on the balcony. "It's so hard to think of this."
"It's hard to admit to what you feel when your situation as a mistress is so tenuous. I didn't let myself admit to loving Hugh's father until I was sure he loved me. To not admit it, I thought, would keep me from being hurt if we broke apart. The problem was I lied to myself. I wasn't brave enough. If I had been honest, I would have won his love sooner."
Isadel shrugged and paced to the fireplace. "I hear honesty is overrated."
"So says a stubborn woman. Well, keep him satisfied and when you are more confident in his affections you'll see things as I do. He is happier with you than without you."
Isadel felt her jaw become slack and drop open a mile wide at the woman's bold talk, her naked honesty. When she recovered, she asked, "Please, tell me more about the guests. What is this Moldona like?"
Lady Rhodes leaned over the tea service and poured herself a cup. "I should've had you practice pouring again. Moldona… He was a nice young man. I think he was jealous of Hugh and Henry. Hugh had the better military assignment for his father purchased a better commission. And then there is Betsy St. Claire."
Not wanting to sound anxious or annoyed at this woman who chose a murderer over Hugh, Isadel swallowed and prepared her tongue to sound unemotional. "You've told me that she was pretty."
"Very pretty and very doting on her younger brother. She was devastated when he died in the war. He served under Hugh. I knew when St. Claire died she'd never marry Hugh. He was the reason the boy joined the military."
Knowing Hugh as well as she did, Isadel knew he felt guilt over such death. Poor Hugh.
The door opened and the two chattering maids returned with a bulk of creamy satin and sheer lace.
Lady Rhodes bounced up, her face lighting as if Papa Noel had descended with presents. "It's here." She grabbed the fabric and floated the translucent edge of the material in the air. "It's time to discuss one-for-alls and your robes. Nightwear is important."
Isadel bowed her head. Guilt wouldn't kill her. Sheer embarrassment would do her in before she could ever lay hands on Moldona. Yet, she knew she'd come too far to abandon everything now. Maybe Hugh would surprise her and reward Isadel with Moldona's head. If he didn't, she'd find a way to avenge Agueda and Papa. With a quick restorative breath, she stood and rent her arms wide. "Ready, Lady Rhodes. Show me what I must know to do this well."
Sometime during this weekend, she'd face Moldona. Then she'd show Hugh what she could do. She'd avenge her family, especially Agueda. She had to kill Moldona for her sister's sake.
Chapter Eleven: A Visit With Friends And Enemies
Sandon buzzed. It hummed with conversations and servants, more than Hugh could ever imagine. The retired commanders of Almeida and the ones that could be spared from the fight save Wellesley had arrived at Hugh's door, ready to spend the weekend supping and drinking at his table. If the killer wanted revenge against them all, then Sandon was a ripe target. The angst of waiting for death would be over, well at least death by this fiend.
He tugged on his gloves. His hands felt more human. Hopefully, his sallow fingers were soft against Isadel's cheek. Goodness knows her skin felt soft and silky.
He blinked to clear his head of the girl who hadn't shown herself or dared to come down and help greet his guests. Clarity could mean the difference between catching a killer and watching the best men die.
Drawing back the sheer curtains, he peered out his study window. Teams of carriages lined his grated drive, so much for Sandon's obscurity. Yet, he felt assured one of these horse-drawn vehicles brought a killer to his door.
A quick knock made him pivot. He slouched against the wall as Elizabeth waltzed inside the room followed by a familiar pretty face. "Lady Rhodes… Mrs. Moldona."
Betsy came to him with hands outstretched.
He stood up straight, and almost wished to yank in place his turquoise silk waistcoat that hung over his buff breeches. "Welcome to Sandon again."
After accepting his kiss to her gloved hand, she whirled around. Her deep salmon carriage gown whipped at her short heels. "Sandon looks wonderful. The rumors are false. It looks the same as when you and Henry and I were here. You are wearing Henry's watch. I gave it to him for his last birthday."
He picked up the gold chain and swirled it. "Yes, Mrs. Moldona. He loved it and it reminds me of him and how short our time with him was, how short time is for everyone."
Her face blanked as she touched its etched cover.
The brief joy he took in seeing her became engulfed in the memories of a day not much like this one where a fool thought he could play with detonations to impress a girl. He released the watch and it dangled once again over his waistcoat. "I've made some new improvements, and under Lady Rhodes skillful…hands, Sandon stands tall, as fine as e
ver."
Elizabeth sank into a chair by his desk. Her complexion looked a little pink, a little tired. Ten couples and servants to boot is a great deal to manage.
Betsy took a spin about the room, touching paintings, and poking books along the bookcase. "Lady Rhodes, if I'd known you needed help, I would have had Mr. Moldona bring us sooner. I feel a connection to this place. With Hugh and Henry."
Pulling out a silken fan, Elizabeth fluttered the air about her face. Ringlets bounced, but her mouth seemed poised to strike. "I have enough help with Hugh's—"
"No. Mrs. Moldona," He said, "we handled things the best we could, but thank you for the offer." He strolled to his desk and sat on the edge feeling a little awkward bringing up Isadel to Betsy like this. "No need to fret. Elizabeth, you have out done yourself. I am grateful."
Lowering her powdered brow, Elizabeth smiled. "Dearest Hugh, it is my pleasure, but I am sure your special friend will be able to handle things, once she is more familiar with Sandon."
Stopping as if she'd tripped into an invisible wall, Betsy turned from inspecting the bookcase. "Special friend?"
"Elizabeth, please. Not now."
"Yes, Hugh's new lady friend." Elizabeth cooed and smiled wide. "She is quite something."
"I'm very happy for you." Betsy said the words, but her tone was cold. "You deserve some happiness. Henry would have wanted that."
A chill swept over him the way she said his brother's name. Was she still stewing in anguish over Henry? Well, Hugh had been too, only escaping the guilt the past few weeks.
A knock set upon the door. Small and constant. In an instant, he knew it to be Isadel. She'd decided to come down now when she felt the crowds had cleared.
He plodded to the door and opened it, then caught her hand. "Ah, Miss Armijo, you've decided to join us."
Though Elizabeth looked on smiling perhaps at the mulberry gown and pelisse adorning the chef, Betsy squinted. "Is this your special friend? Hugh, what is this? You brought a trinket back from your travels."
Isadel closed her eyes for a second. "I see you are busy, Mr. Bannerman. I can speak with you later."
He kept a hold of her hand. "Nonsense, I want you stay. My old friend should meet my new friend. Mrs.—"
"That's quite fine. I'll retire until dinner." Betsy said and pivoted toward the door.
It hit him. The clarity of the cut Isadel was about to receive. A wife of the ton didn't want to meet a mistress.
"That's fine, Mrs. Moldona. You can meet my fiancé later."
Betsy stopped and turned. Her face became pale and blank.
Isadel's hold on his arm slacked. She didn't quite look faint, but she didn't seem quite sturdy.
"She…" Betsy said looking like a lost child. "She is to be mistress here? Henry's Sandon."
Elizabeth sprung off the chaise as if the pronouncement had given her new life. "This is Hugh's estate and what a fine wife Miss Armijo will make."
A small hint of a smile whisked across Isadel's face. "I came to speak with you, alone for a moment, but it seems you are still entertaining guests."
"No, my dear. Let's take a walk. Excuse us, ladies. I'll have you back in half an hour, plenty of time to be ready for dinner." Since he hadn't stopped holding her hand, it was easy to keep her at his side and lead her out onto the patio and beyond.
She nodded with the same enthusiasm one would have facing a firing squad, but she held onto his arm and let him lead the way.
Through the groves, past his explosive demonstration area to a spot by the stream, they walked in silence, but somehow the simple quiet felt right—to be in Sandon's park with a woman who he liked very much. And Hugh had enough imagination to pretend she liked him too. Time was short. A killer could be here or on the way, and all Hugh could think upon was the true smile his faux elevation had brought to Isadel's lips.
The quiet of the park, less the call of a gull heading to sea felt peaceful to Isadel. It was the most at peace she felt since Hugh announced his scheme to draw out a killer and her enemy. Hugh led her past the spot where she nearly killed them.
A lump nested in her throat, like a bird that had found a home inside, she coughed. Then she hummed. Mama's tune of hope needed to steady the rhythm of her heart.
Hugh stopped and stretched. "Phipps has had this area turned quite nicely. Doesn't look like we've done much damage."
If he wasn't going to explain the new twist in their plan, she wasn't going to ask. She pulled away and searched for pockets in her short plum jacket but found none. "Definitely doesn't smell like black powder."
"My hand is feeling better. Even though you've been busy with Elizabeth, thank you for remembering me."
"Just because you banished me to lady school far from the kitchen, I did not forget you. I sneak down when everyone's asleep. I guess I won't be doing that with a house full of people."
He planted in front of her like a big tree and blocked her vision of the setting sun. "I suppose you have questions about what I said in my study."
"You mean your latest guise? I didn't come here to wear lace, pretend to be engaged, or have my hand kissed by a killer."
He took her palm and lifted it to his mouth. "But I've killed too. Do you mind me?"
"I didn't come for that either."
"It's a side benefit, Isadel."
She folded her arms about her. "What do I have to remember about this scheme?"
He scratched his forehead. "Why are you angry?"
Bending, she picked up a pebble and sent it flying into a tree. "When am I not? You could have left me in the kitchen. I could've waited on you…and your guests."
Towing her, he took her closer to the trees. The scent of freshly cut pine filled the air.
"Isadel, I saw you smile when I said fiancé. Mrs. Moldona was going to cut you direct. I didn't want that."
"You watch me that closely?"
"I like having my eyes on you. Next best thing to gloves."
"More jokes, Bannerman. You're like the rest. No, you're better. Your Mrs. Moldona will now treat me with respect while you are around, but she'll show her true nature to me." She bent again and picked up a coral colored rock. If it were all the falsehoods, she'd throw it as far as she could. "I'm tired of this, Bannerman. Other men made their advances, left with a few choice cuts and let me be. But you, you are the worse."
He scooped her up and lifted her high. "Am I?"
She slammed her palms onto his iron shoulders and tried to press free. "What are you doing?"
"My neck was hurting, and I'd like to look you in the eye as you tell me about myself. Or maybe as I tell you about yourself, Isadel. I finally understand why you want to be in the shadows. It's safer for you. You get to hide and stew in your anger because you are afraid. You've run from the safety of the abbey to come to me. You have the run of Sandon, but you hide in the kitchen. I elevated you from sham mistress to faux future Mrs. Bannerman and you are scared. Why do I frighten you?"
Frustration and truth swirled inside as his hypnotic eyes bore into her. It was hard to breathe levitating in his hands. Her arm shook and she pulled closer to him to steady herself but the smell of his clean pine soap and the sweet aloe of the hand lotion filled her nostrils, guiding her to nestle closer. "I'm frightened because I can't pretend so well."
Her lips found his, and she couldn't stop wanting his kiss. It did mean something to her to not be thought of as low. It did mean everything that he would want to show her off as a wife and not an exotic mistress.
She clung to his neck and enjoyed how tight his arms went about her. She was safe in his embrace, the first time she felt so since Badajoz.
"Hugh, Miss Armijo?"
Isadel opened her eyes to see Mrs. Moldona standing near.
Bannerman lowered her to the ground but kept his hand linked to Isadel's. "Betsy, I mean Mrs. Moldona, what are you doing out here?"
"I did not mean to interrupt. And I should congratulate you. I came to see Henry. I haven't been
to Sandon in a long time."
"I'll take you. I'll take you both to see." Hugh secured Isadel's hands onto his sleeve then offered his other to the woman. They walked a little farther and came to a marker that was close to a stream.
Hugh released them both. He took a cloth from his pocket and wiped the top of the stone.
It read Henry Bannerman. It was Hugh's brother who had been killed in the explosion.
Mrs. Moldona bent down and touched the stone. "I still remember that day." Her voice took on a weepy tone. "You were trying to impress me, but there was too much powder in the trunk. Poor Henry was felled by that tree."
"I wasn't strong like I am today. I wish I could've saved him."
Mrs. Moldona put her hand on his shoulder. "At least you know where your brother is buried. My brother is laid to rest in Spain, some unknown spot near Almeida.
She started to tear. Hugh rose and held out a handkerchief, but she stepped into his arms.
"I'm sorry to be so emotional. I guess I know how you suffer. I wish he never served."
His face clouded. "Charles St. Claire was a good officer, but I know he'd want you to live and be happy. I did suffer until recently, when I remembered this myself."
Mrs. Moldona smiled one of those polite English woman smiles, the one that said I'm too much of a lady to disagree.
He patted her arm and stepped away. "Well, I will escort you two back to the house and we can all prepare for dinner. Should be a fine evening. You and Miss Armijo will get to meet the men with whom St. Claire served."
"It is my pleasure to meet them." Mrs. Moldona fastened her hand to Hugh's arm.
Isadel let them navigate the path ahead of her, but didn't like Mrs. Moldona hovering over Hugh like bees protecting their honeycomb.
Maybe he was right to want Isadel out of the shadows. How aggressive would Mrs. Moldona be if she thought Hugh was free?
Hugh tied his cravat tighter as he stared into the mirror, his finger slipping on the raw silk. Isadel's balm made his fingers slippery, but he felt more human, more alive than he had in a long time. Their interrupted kiss stayed on his mind, his heart. That feeling settled on him, the one he didn't want to name—well that had been a long time too.
No Hiding For The Guilty (The Heart of a Hero Book 5) Page 16