Surrender Becomes Her (39 page)

“The deuce you say!” burst out Marcus incredulously. “If he was going to turn it over to Roxbury, why the devil did he go to all the trouble of abducting Isabel and stealing it from us in the first place.
We’d
have turned it over to Roxbury.”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know.” He frowned slightly. “The man confessed to knowing that Whitley was dead. Knowing Roxbury, I’m positive that there is more to the matter than Roxbury is telling me, but the main thing, the most important thing, is that the memorandum is back at the Horse Guards where it belongs and Wellesley’s plans are in full swing.”

Alone in their private rooms later that night, Isabel said to Marcus, “I know it is unfeeling of me, but I cannot be very sorry that Whitley is dead. He was a bad man.”

They were seated on a balcony just off Marcus’s bedroom, enjoying the soft spring air, Isabel sipping a glass of warm milk, Marcus toying with a small glass of cognac.

Marcus nodded. “He probably didn’t deserve to be murdered, though.”

“How can you say that?” she demanded, outraged. “Marcus, he was trying to destroy Edmund’s life and he was going to sell that memorandum to the French! Of course he deserved to be murdered!” She thought a moment, then added fiercely, “Or hanged.”

Marcus couldn’t argue with her logic and said, “You’re right. Whitley got precisely what he deserved.”

Satisfied that Marcus felt just as he ought, she asked, “What did you think of Jack’s news?”

He shrugged. “It sounds like a Banbury tale to me. That fellow went to far too much trouble to simply hand the memorandum over so tamely. I think Jack is right. Roxbury isn’t telling all he knows.”

There was silence for a few minutes as they each mulled over what Roxbury might be hiding. Finally Isabel said, “It is very strange, isn’t it?”

Marcus nodded and, tired of Jack, Whitley, and the whole affair, he said, “But enough of that…have I told you how very much I love you?”

She giggled. “Not for the past fifteen minutes.”

“How remiss of me!” He rose and scooped her up into his arms. “I love you, Isabel,” he said huskily.

“Oh, Marcus! I love you!”

Kissing her, he carried her to his bed. “And now,” he said with a husky note in his voice, “I intend to show you exactly how very much I do love you.” And did.

Marcus woke several hours later. Isabel was curled warmly next to him and for a moment he let himself revel in her nearness. He thought about waking her with a kiss and making love again, but despite his best efforts, his thoughts kept slipping away to Roxbury and the stranger who had returned the memorandum.

Deciding sleep would be impossible for now, Marcus slid from the bed and slipped on his dressing robe. Strolling to the balcony, he stared out at the darkness.

Where was Isabel’s abductor? Marcus wondered. What sort of dangerous mischief might he be planning at this very moment? He stared for a long time into the night, his thoughts on the stranger, trying to understand what drove a man to do what he had done and why. A yawn took him. Enough of this useless speculation. Everything had ended well, he reminded himself, the gentleman had even, one might say, acted like a gentleman…. And that was the end of it. Like a shooting star the man had blazed into their lives and was now gone, never to be seen again. But as he turned away to rejoin his wife, Marcus had the unsettling notion that they’d not heard the last of Isabel’s “gentleman”….

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Copyright © 2009 by Shirlee Busbee

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