To Love a Wicked Scoundrel (11 page)

Isabelle, eyes glued to the stairs, offered Constantine a wide-eyed stare. He began to respond to the man, then stalled when he noticed her, motionless in the doorframe. His expression transformed from frustration to easy pleasure in less than an exhale. Devastating blue eyes met hers and a silken frisson of recognition whispered across the silent room.

‘Well, that wasn’t very well done of me, was it?’

Brooks, all at once complaisant, disappeared with the butler and they were left alone.

Constantine took the two steps needed to stand before her, the weight of his intense gaze causing her need for oxygen to dissipate. He placed his wine glass on a nearby chiffonier and made a half effort to close his shirt. He fastened the lower buttons before abandoning the task. Isabelle did not know where to rest her eyes as everywhere seemed inappropriate and she refused to appear the coward and cast her attention to the floor. In exasperation, she settled on his mouth. Bad idea.

‘Excuse me, Isabelle. I was in the middle of something and did not expect your arrival.’

His words, a husky apology as rumpled as his appearance, registered succinctly as understanding shot through her. No longer mesmerised by the thrillingly handsome half dressed man before her, her usual pragmatic sense recognised the scene for what it presented. With careless haste she turned to leave, not a word uttered, until his fingertips found her shoulder and she stilled.

‘Wait. What brought you to my home?’

She took a minute to assemble her reply, not trusting her scrambled thoughts wouldn’t provide a vacuous answer. She already knew the man lived a profligate lifestyle, but the knowledge did little to assuage the sense of foreboding that settled in her stomach.

He leaned forward, his broad build casting a shadow across the door and she could sense his heat, although how it was possible she did not know; he had barely touched her shoulder.

‘Tell me why you’ve come.’

His command was a rough whisper against her soft skin. She turned with wary trepidation and took a small step back. He waited. His blue eyes watched with penetrating concentration. Then one side of his mouth curled deliciously, his devilish half smile more potent than the most rakish gentleman’s attempt at charm. Isabelle forced her eyes upward, away from the beguiling invitation of his mouth.

‘I wanted to return the button you gave to Lily. It is far too valuable to place in the care of a six-year-old.’ Isabelle wished her voice sounded steadier, but in all her twenty-six years she’d never been so close to a man, never mind a man half-clothed. She raised her hand and opened her palm to expose the button, feeling rather foolish in the process.

‘Indeed, but it was a gift. I want Lily to keep it.’ In one smooth movement, he curled his fingers atop hers to encapsulate the button and intertwine their fingers. His hand squeezed hers with slow inexorable pressure.

The heated contact of his palm across her skin caused Isabelle to gasp, but it proved a mistake. As she drew the sudden breath, the bodice of her gown stroked the underside of their paired hands and a shock of delicious pleasure resonated within, beginning at the tips of her breasts and settling with unexpected heat to simmer much lower. She tore her gaze away from their laced fingers and helplessly looked to his face. Sinfully long lashes shuttered eyes that glittered with mischief in the broken candlelight, and he leaned forward and lowered his voice to a sultry murmur.

‘Was that all you wanted?’

Taken aback by his seductive whisper, Isabelle’s breath caught. Her sharp inhale discovered the delicious scent of his skin and the barest hint of the unidentifiable fragrance she noted the last time he stood close. His shirt remained open although she dared not cast her eyes any lower than his chin. Perhaps he applied some type of medicinal ointment before retiring for the night. The sensible rationalisation managed to regulate her heartbeat to something close to normal. She withdrew her hand and tossed him a curt word of thanks before she escaped into the night.

***

Constantine watched Isabelle scurry down the townhouse steps as he leaned against the wooden doorframe. He waited to see if she might toss her fiery tresses over her shoulder and offer him a backward glance before the darkness enveloped her, but she did not and he smiled despite himself. She liked him. She might not know it, but he did. He climbed the stairs to his studio with renewed energy; happy she’d interrupted his painting session.

The pleasant surprise of Isabelle’s visit stayed with him into morning as he wrapped his work in brown paper and proceeded out of the back entrance towards the old Bilmont townhouse. During the wee hours of the morning, he’d chosen a still life from his completed paintings and now looked forward to presenting it to the Ladies Rossmore. He would suggest it served as a welcome gift of sorts for their arrival in London, but in truth he wished for Isabelle to enjoy his artwork even if she would never know he was the artist. The picture, a vase full of crimson red dahlias, proved to be one of his best efforts. He held the small package firmly as he took the three steps and dropped the knocker at the Rossmore residence.

He heard animated conversation accompanied by a child’s cheerful laughter as the butler led him into the drawing room. Silence followed as the servant announced his name and he stepped inside.

Lady Meredith welcomed him with superfluous enthusiasm and Lily appeared as if she might burst with excitement before introductions were completed. Isabelle allowed her glare to speak to him from across the room. She coloured an attractive shade of pink and busied herself with straightening books on a nearby shelf.

‘What a splendid surprise, Lord Highborough. We were just discussing what we wished to do with our fine day.’ Meredith smiled at him unabashedly. He noticed she didn’t seem to know where to rest her hands as they fluttered to the edges of her collar, through the hair at the nape of her neck, and then to rest in front of her.

‘Isabelle is planning to visit The National Gallery.’ Lily voiced her announcement in a zealous tone. ‘Mother believes it will be dull. She does not wish to go, but I would go if I were allowed.’

Constantine bent down on one knee to gain eye level with the child. ‘Indeed. I will remember you said that, so I may be the first to escort you there. The National Gallery is one of my favourite places to visit. As a matter of coincidence, I have business to conduct there this very day. Shall I convince your sister to share a carriage with me?’ He glanced across the room to where Isabelle strove to look disinterested in the conversation. Her contrived boredom opposed with Meredith’s overeager entreaty to sit, stay, and join them for tea.

‘Lily, shame on you. You will give Lord Highborough the wrong impression. I never said those silly things about the art gallery.’ Meredith eyed him with an exaggerated look of tolerance, as if to convey her daughter spun fairytales. Constantine doubted Lily spoke a word of untruth.

‘I would be most interested in viewing the collections. I will join you both.’ The adults in the room exchanged flitting glances, although no one took a seat and they all remained standing in the middle of the drawing room.

Confused by the undercurrent of emotion, Lily broke the silence. ‘What is in that package, Lord Highborough?’ She indicated the painting.

‘Lily.’ Isabelle stepped forward and gently touched her stepsister’s shoulder. ‘How many times have I reminded you to use your manners? Ask kindly and politely.’ Then she flicked her eyes to his briefly. ‘I apologise, Lord Highborough. Lily’s curiosity gets the better of her at times.’

He hated her use of his title and surname. It seemed a ridiculous waste of time to pretend they were newly acquainted. Besides, he’d become fond of the cadence of his Christian name on her lips. Her voice managed to speak straight to his heart. A heart buried deep under layers of other disagreeable emotions.

‘No offence taken. Curiosity can drive a person to do all types of unexpected things.’ He enjoyed the tinge of pink that dusted Isabelle’s cheeks as she spun away. He regarded Lily, ready to present his gift and answer her question, but the child had grown utterly quiet and stood before him with a serious expression on her sweet face.

‘Yes. Kindly and politely.’ She straightened her posture and tilted her head to the side. ‘I see you are holding a package, Lord Highborough. If I may be so bold, would you care to tell us what is inside?’

Everyone shared an amused laugh at Lily’s polite inquiry and it served well to lighten the mood in the room.

‘Unfortunately this package is not for you,’ He placed the painting against a nearby chair. ‘But I have not forgotten you.’ He withdrew a small bag from his waistcoat pocket and handed it forward. ‘I hope you like hard bake as much as I did as a child.’

‘Yes, thank you.’ Lily broke off a small piece of the glazed almond candy and popped it into her mouth. Her smile conveyed her delight.

Constantine’s eyes fell upon Isabelle as she watched the child with open affection. How wonderful it must feel to be so adored. An unexpected twinge tightened his chest as stark despair reminded him he would never know such honest emotion. The feeling dissipated before he could think better of it.

‘And for both ladies – ’ Constantine handed the painting to Meredith ‘ – a housewarming gift for your arrival in London.’

Meredith unwrapped the package with care. ‘How very lovely. Red flowers in a vase.’ Her voice conveyed a fanciful tone. ‘This painting will certainly add the touch of colour this room wants. I adore it.’ Her eyes flicked to Constantine before she walked to the fireplace and placed the painting above it. It leaned against the wall and looked rather perfect as it rested on the mantelpiece. Constantine smiled with satisfaction and Meredith beamed. ‘I’m immensely flattered that you would take the time to create such beauty and gift it to me.’

‘Dahlias are Isabelle’s favourite flower.’ Lily’s comment was muffled by the mouthful of candy she had stored in one cheek, but her words remained decipherable. Con snapped his attention to Isabelle in just enough time to see her smile before she forced it from her face.

‘Are they? I had no idea.’

‘Well, how could you?’ Meredith responded in a light tone, although her gaze passed from Constantine to Isabelle with a swift stroke. ‘Thank you so much for my gift, Lord Highborough. The splash of red adds something special to the room, wouldn’t you agree?’

Constantine’s eyes never left Isabelle as he answered the question. ‘Absolutely.’

He caught her smile this time, if it could be called that, the slight tilt of her mouth. He returned the caress, his grin a slow pull.

‘Won’t you stay for refreshments?’ Meredith walked to the bell pull, but he interjected before she might summon the tea service.

‘In truth, if we are to travel to The National Gallery, we should be on our way within the hour. May I return with my carriage to call on you then?’

With arrangements made to leave as soon as possible, Constantine took a last look at the painting and left the Rossmore residence.

Chapter Nine

Isabelle met Meredith’s gaze with confidence although she knew her stepmother perceived more from Constantine’s unexpected visit than she admitted. The unspoken words seemed the loudest in the room as they made light conversation and readied for their trip to the gallery. The sudden change in plans created havoc with her emotions. When Con suggested they all visit the gallery together, guilt and anticipation flooded her heart in equal measure. In the end, anticipation won the battle.

Now as she waited in the drawing room for the arrival of the Highborough barouche, Isabelle flitted from one corner of the room to the other. She startled and almost dropped her gloves when the butler entered to announce Lady Newby. The elderly woman moved into the room, the unmistakable thud of her cane preceding her approach.

Meredith stepped forward, a greeting on her lips. ‘Giddy, it is lovely to see you. Come in.’

‘Good morning, ladies. I cannot stay long, so do not call for tea. I wanted to assure you I have secured your names on Lady Stanton’s guest list for tomorrow evening. Her parties are always enjoyable, albeit slightly unconventional. The festivities begin indoors but soon extend to her elaborate gardens. Make sure to wear your most comfortable slippers.’ The older woman offered the news with a blithe nod of her head then thumped her cane to punctuate her statement.

‘I’m thrilled with this news.’ Meredith’s eyes flared wide and her grin possessed a triumphal air. ‘Everything is falling into place with uncritical simplicity.’

Lily appeared on the stairs and skipped down to investigate the caller. Evidence of an overindulgence of candy laced her mouth. ‘Good day, Lady Newby. Are you visiting The National Gallery as well?’

Quick to explain her daughter’s inquiry, Meredith rushed to Giddy’s side. ‘Lord Highborough has asked me to accompany him to the art gallery this afternoon. I am very pleased by his invitation.’

Isabelle watched as Giddy smiled in response to her stepmother’s rearranged version of the truth. She edged closer to the stairway hoping to decipher their low toned conversation.

‘Excellent news, my dear, and exactly what we wished.’ Giddy touched Meredith’s arm. ‘I have known the scoundrel for many years, and while he may enjoy giving the impression he has little use for the world, underneath his expertly tailored waistcoat he possesses a heart of gold.’ The older woman paused and a wry smile creased her face. ‘He certainly wasted no time, but then Constantine proved impatient even at his own birth. He arrived a good two weeks early and London has never been the same.’

‘I am very happy with this development and I thank you for your assistance. I will see you tomorrow evening at the Stanton affair.’ Meredith returned to Lily and ushered her upstairs to settle with her governess before they took their leave. Isabelle observed the action with suspicious scrutiny. Meredith’s sudden attention to Lily could only be attributed to her desire to have nothing disrupt the planned outing.

She turned from the stairs, surprised to see Giddy lingered in the hall. ‘My apologies Lady Newby, may I help you with something?’