Eloping with the Princess (Brotherhood of the Sword #3)(12)

The maid jumped into action, pouring warm water over Isabel’s head and then lathering in a sweet-smelling soap. The woman worked her fingers against Isabel’s scalp, and she found that many of her worries seemed to fade into the distance. She knew they’d return, but for now she’d enjoy the release.

Isabel marveled at how relaxed she was once she was clean and her hair was rinsed. Beatrice assisted her out and gave her a plush towel to wrap around herself to dry off.

“I believe Lady Evelyn left clothing for you on the bed. Do you require anything else?” Beatrice asked.

“No, thank you.”

“Good evening, my lady,” Beatrice said, then curtsied and left the room.

My lady. The title, completely innocuous, seemed ill-fitting. She’d grown up seeing not much more than the old stone walls at St. Bart’s. She knew how to dance, the proper way to use a fan, and even how to select draperies, not that any of it would come into use.

She quickly dressed, relishing the luxurious feel of the fabric against her bare skin. She sat at the dressing table and pulled the brush through her long hair. She remembered at some point in her life, long ago perhaps, some lady had said it was chestnut hair, not quite red, but not quite brown. Had that woman been her mother? She closed her eyes as if to force the memory to become clearer. It wasn’t the first time she’d done so, but nothing ever came back. She wove her hair into a long plait.

Someone knocked on the door, and she started.

The door cracked, but no one entered. “Isabel, I’m sorry to disturb you,” Jason said. “I hope I am not interrupting. Might I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” She came to her feet as she finished braiding her hair. “Are we leaving? Because if so, I need to change. I merely assumed—”

“Not tonight.” He paused then, his eyes traveled the length of her, making her immediately aware of how she was dressed, or rather not fully dressed. Although she was covered, the fabric from the dressing gown and night rail were much thinner than that of her woolen gowns. She felt exposed. She wrapped her arms around herself.

Their eyes met, and it seemed her breathing stopped. Being sequestered in the school for so many years, she’d had limited contact with males. She wasn’t accustomed to being near one she found so attractive. She silently cursed him for being so handsome. Otherwise she would certainly not find him so appealing.

He quickly averted his gaze. “Tomorrow we shall go somewhere else, somewhere you can be safe. And then we can work on getting some answers.”

She nodded. Go yet another place? What had happened of her life? Suddenly she had become somewhat of a gypsy.

“Do you need anything else?”

“Not tonight.”

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be guarding your door.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Right now, I don’t think so, but I do know I’m not willing to take any chances.” He turned back to the door then paused. “Isabel?”

She fidgeted with the end of her long braid as it draped over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“Good night,” he said.

“Good night, Jason.”





Chapter Three


Jason hadn’t slept much. Granted, he’d spent most of the night poised outside of Isabel’s bedchamber door, waiting for anything untoward. Even when Somersby had come and given him a reprieve, Jason had still been too alert to rest. It was his responsibility to ensure that Isabel was protected. He would not fail a second time.

She was being targeted for a specific reason, and the sooner they knew that reason, the sooner he’d be able to truly protect her.

He glanced at his pocket watch and noted the time. They should be leaving, but he didn’t dare enter that bedchamber again. He’d made that mistake the night before and seen her standing there wearing that dressing gown. It hadn’t revealed anything about her figure, but the sight of her with bare feet and wet hair freshly braided had left his mouth dry and his hands fidgety. The last thing he needed was to desire her. Protecting her from an unknown villain had already proved daunting. Wanting her would serve only in complicating the situation. This was the time for levelheadedness.

So instead of going into the bedchamber, he knocked and told her he was going downstairs for breakfast and they were to leave within the half hour. He was pleased when she appeared dressed and ready to depart fifteen minutes later. He was even more pleased that she was wearing something that covered her completely. Even if the dress was ill-fitting, it didn’t conjure images of her sprawled across a bed, bare toes curled into the bedcovers. Christ, what was the matter with him?

Somersby entered the room as well. “Are we ready, then?”

They rode in one of the Somersby carriages to the offices of Parliament. Potterfield, the leader of the Brotherhood, kept his office there, and damned if Jason didn’t need some guidance. He hated to explain any of this to Potterfield and risk Gabe’s reputation, but Isabel was in danger.

Isabel looked out the small curtained window of the carriage. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, her tone agitated.

“Somewhere safe,” Jason said.

“Yes, you keep saying that and then we keep moving,” she said. “Is there nowhere safe in all of London?”

Somersby’s lips quirked in a grin and Jason kicked his boot, which caused Somersby to chuckle.