Page 39 of The Baron’s Halo

“Perhaps.” Cheeks flushed, she ground her hips into him. “What is it?”

Sandy groaned. “I wager I can make you faint again before breakfast arrives.”

*

December 1

“Let us go in here, Lady MacKay, away from all the din.” Emma Bancroft led Isabelle into a small receiving room, cozily furnished with a roaring fire against the damp December chill. “You don’t know how good it is to have another woman to talk to at these Quartermain gatherings. So far it’s only been me and Emily, Harry’s wife, but she’s so far along in the family way, we won’t see her until the spring.”

“I wondered why I hadn’t met her yet.” Isabelle chose the chair nearest the fire. Emma sat across from her on a small chaise. “My husband told me his cousin’s marriage to Emily sparked a wager that we are now both part of.”

“Yes, thank goodness. Eventually there will be seven of us cousins-in-law.” Emma laughed gaily. “We will have more fun together than our husbands will, I daresay.” Her cousin-in-law’s high spirits had caught Isabelle’s attention at the party in the ballroom. That room had unfortunate memories for her, so she’d wanted to sneak away and found Emma a willing conspirator.

“I am certain you are much relieved now that your husband has won his wager.” Isabelle had been horrified to discover Emma had donned men’s clothing and actually attended the brutal boxing match where her husband and his uncle had fought. Rather than be sent to India and separated from Emma for five years, her husband Alex had instead resigned his commission in the Army and taken a wager on a boxing match at his uncle’s urging. If Alex won, he’d be given an estate and money to live on. If he lost, he and Emma would travel to the north where Alex would have to teach boxing in a new unit dedicated to physical fitness.

“How could you do it, Mrs. Bancroft? How did you dare dress so scandalously and attend the match when your husband had forbidden it?”

“Please do call me Emma.” Her cousin-in-law leaned over and patted her hand. “We are family, after all.”

“Of course, Emma. And you must call me Isabelle. But how could you be so daring?”

“With mine and Alex’s future and happiness in the balance, I couldn’t stand by and simply wait for him to return and inform me of the outcome.” Emma shrugged. “I needed to act because it was my future being decided. I also needed to know Alex was safe. I couldn’t just sit home and wait like a ninny wringing my hands.”

Isabelle gave her an arch look. “What did your husband say when he found out?”

Emma’s cheeks grew rosy. “He wasn’t very happy with me at all. And I suspect I’ll continue to feel the sting of his tongue whenever we’re in private for some time to come. All in all, however, I think gentlemen like a woman with spunk, no matter how much they may protest they don’t.”

“There you are, my dear.” Alex Bancroft, tall, handsome, and sporting a black eye from his boxing match, sauntered into the room. “Good evening, cousin.” He bowed to Isabelle. “May I steal my wife for a moment? Grandfather wants to have a word with her regarding her recent foray into the world of boxing.”

“Goodness, Emma, that sounds ominous.” Isabelle was more than a little frightened of the imposing Duke of Welwyn, even though he’d congratulated her on keeping her promise and helping Sandy with his part of the marriage wager.

“I assure you, my wife can handle him.” He glared at Emma playfully. “It’s me she needs to worry about.”

“Then I don’t need to worry at all, do I, my love?” Emma smiled into his face. “Will you come with us, Isabelle?”

“No, thank you. I am perfectly fine here, but if you see my husband, would you send him to me?”

“Of course. I saw him just now with Julius, settling their accounts.” Alex took Emma’s hand, his gaze never leaving her face. “Come, my dear. Grandfather is a very important man. We mustn’t keep him waiting.” He led her from the room and Isabelle settled back in the comfortable chair to enjoy the warmth of the fire while she awaited her husband.

They had been in Town for two days leading up to this boxing match, Sandy becoming more and more excited as the event drew closer. She smiled thinking of his enthusiasm, so like all the Quartermains she’d become re-acquainted with during that time. Sandy had been right, they were all fools for a wager.

Perhaps tonight she’d have to place a wager of her own with her husband. A very private wager regarding how long it would take her to—

“Isabelle.”

That voice froze her blood in her veins. She jerked her head up and met the black eyes of Ambrose Grey. Her heart gave a great leap as though trying to escape on its own, then beat with the frantic rhythm of a bird battering its wings against the bars of a cage. “Wha…what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see you, of course, my dear.” To her horror he entered the parlor and shut the door.

She jumped to her feet, but there was nowhere to go.

“We hardly spoke after I returned in September, then you were off to the North, then married.” He eased into the chaise Emma had sat on and smiled, showing his yellowing teeth. The years on the island had taken a toll on his appearance. “Sit down, Isabelle.”

The harsh tone of the command brought back all the terror of the years of his abuse. And conditioned to obey, she duly sat down, feeling like a mouse in the company of a hungry cat.

“When I heard about the match with your Quartermain relations, I assumed your husband would attend.” The grotesque smile widened. “And bring you with him.”

Despite her roiling stomach, Isabelle tried to remain calm. “Now you have seen me, Ambrose, and as I have nothing to say to you other than goodbye—Ouch!” She rose, meaning to head to the door, but he grabbed her arm so roughly, she winced.