Page 63 of Lord of Loyalty

Chapter Thirty-Five

Will couldn’t wait for their evening repast to be over. Though it seemed there were almost as many of his servants in Marston House as there were of Isobel’s, he had happily let her take charge of the arrangements, knowing how much she valued her independence.

There were so many things to discuss, away from prying eyes and curious ears. Goody Cooper, having forged a particular bond with Isobel, seemed ever to be dancing attendance on her, almost to the point where Will started wondering if he should just gift the woman to Isobel, and find himself a new housekeeper.

He needed to tell Isobel what had happened with Paulina. He had to hope that, since the woman had run away, she must no longer carry a candle for him, and that her father would stop trying to blackmail him into marrying her. He also needed to sound out Isobel about moving to the countryside. Initially, he’d thought of his rescue of her as restoring to London society one of its brightest jewels—but now his hopes were selfish ones. He didn’t want to share her company with anyone else, didn’t want to see her corrupted by the false fancies and flatteries of life at court, could not stand the idea of her being manipulated by fashion and faction.

What had once seemed exciting to him had now lost its gloss. He’d seen Leicester strive, and fall. How quick his former comrades had been to condemn him to his queen! Such hypocrisy turned Will’s stomach—he couldn’t help but feel good men like Edward Marston had suffered and died pointlessly because of the poison poured into Queen Elizabeth’s ear by others. That poison had had the effect of making her remove financial support from Leicester’s Dutch campaign because it looked as if he were accruing too much power.

These were weighty matters, indeed. He hoped and prayed Isobel would understand his feelings and accept what he had to offer. As the last of the dishes were cleared away from the board, he moved his chair next to hers and reached for her hand.

“How do you feel? Not too tired, I hope.”

She smiled at him. “I feel much refreshed for having washed away the stink of that place.”

And replaced it with something most compelling—a musky scent, sweetened with the smell of roses. He thought he’d never smelled anything more enticing.

“Is your wound troubling you, sir?”

He rested their joined hands on his knee and stroked her palm slowly with his thumb. “Barely. With the wine and peerless company, I’ve hardly thought of it.”

“I ask, because your eyes seem brighter tonight than usual—as if you were feverish.”

In a sense he was, but not because of that.

“May I keep Manners with me a little longer?”

Why were they talking about Manners? He’d not been a great deal of use when it came down to it, had he? Besides, she’d have him to take care of her—if he could persuade her.

“You need no longer worry about your cousin.” He stroked her fingers, then noted, with a flip of his heart, that she still wore his seal ring.

“Let us not forget that the odious Flinders is still at large,” she reminded him.

“Oh, there’ll be no danger from that quarter—the authorities are on the lookout for both him and Goodwife Quill. They are nothing without Pike—cut off the head and the body will die. But of course, you may have Manners if you wish.”

Isobel shivered, and he immediately tightened his grip on her hand. “My apologies. I don’t mean to conjure up vile images. You were courage itself, today, Isobel. You have been since I met you, in truth.”

He gazed at their entwined fingers and toyed with the ring. It moved easily.

“Isobel, this has loosened. You could take it off.”

She looked up at him, her eyes moist. “So I could. I confess I’ve not eaten well since I left Giles Street.”

“That won’t do at all.” Now was as good a time as any to make his declaration, but his voice felt like a boulder in his throat. “Isobel, what do you plan to do next?”

She looked away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You are free now.” Why had he mentioned that? It was the last thing he really wanted. Could he marry her, yet convince her she was free?

“You’re a wealthy young woman, most eligible. There’ll be a line of suitors a mile long at your gates. Shall you stay at home, here in London, or will you go to court?”

She removed the ring, then put it back. Were her hands shaking?

“I know not. I feel as if I might like to bury myself in obscurity a while to collect my thoughts. I don’t know if I should write to my friends and more distant relations and tell them what has happened. I could go on a peregrination, I suppose, and visit them all, yet I feel ashamed for having been duped so easily by Hubert. And I’ll need to tell everyone of Edward’s death.”

Will’s breath became shallow. An idea had sprung into his head, one that might tempt her to remain with him. For he could countenance no other outcome.

“If you wish to defer that decision, why not remain under my protection a little longer? I have my eye on a property in Foxwell, in Suffolk, with a farm attached. The roads are good enough for an occasional visit to London, but bad enough to prevent London folk making unnecessary journeys to Suffolk.”