A Little Mischief (21 page)

He laughed. “Ah, well now, three years. That does make a difference.”

She gave him an impatient sigh. “I’m serious. Don’t tease me about this, Daniel.”

“Don’t give me reason to make fun of you. Three years older is hardly a reason. In a lot of ways, the most important ways, you are still as innocent as Gretchen. You are going to have to come up with something better than that.”

“And I have something more for you,” she said, adding indignation to all the other things she was currently feeling because of him. “Gretchen wants to make a match and I don’t.”

“That doesn’t make our passionate kisses the right thing to have done.”

“If you hadn’t kissed me, I might have never been kissed. And I’m glad I will now have that memory for the rest of my life.”

“What do you mean, you might never have been kissed? Of course you would have and you will be again once you are properly wed.”

“I don’t plan to marry,” she said, even though she knew she’d told him that before. It somehow seemed important to tell him again.

“Perhaps you should rethink your vow to remain a spinster.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you are a very passionate woman, Isabella, and your passion should be shared with a man—your husband.”

The only thing she heard him say was that she was a passionate woman, and for some reason that made her feel delicious inside. “You think so? You think I am passionate?”

“Oh, yes. No doubt about that.”

“But as a spinster my aunt has more freedom than a married woman who has to answer to a husband about where she goes and what she does. Very much like a father controls a child’s life. I don’t think I would like that very much.”

“Yes, but a spinster does not get kisses at night or in the mornings,” he countered.

“Hmm. The mornings, too?”

Daniel laughed. “When you are wed you can kiss your husband anytime that you want to.”

Isabella’s brows drew together in contemplation. She had really enjoyed his kisses and caresses. “That is something to think about. Daniel, do all men’s kisses feel the same?”

He cleared his throat and thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Probably not. No, I’m sure not,” he said looking as if he didn’t know which of the answers he gave was the correct one. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never had trouble rebuffing a man until I met you, and I find it difficult to resist you. I never wanted to kiss a man until I met you.”

“This is not a conversation we should be having, Isabella, and this is one of the reasons we must not see each other again. We talk too freely with each other.”

“Why can’t we have this conversation? Why is honesty not allowed between us?”

He looked away for a moment before turning to study her face again. “It’s not that. I want only honesty between us. It’s Society’s rules, and to live in Society we must obey their rules. We are to behave in a certain way, and you and I have not been following the rules. I take full responsibility for that.”

“I accept my own responsibility.”

The carriage stopped in front of her house, but if Daniel noticed, he didn’t indicate it.

“Fine, but I don’t want you hurt by anything I might talk you into doing.” He leaned in closer to her and softly said, “I can assure you that I want to kiss you much more than you want me to, but the way I want to kiss you should only be done if we are wed.”

“Marriage between us is not in the plans,” she assured him.

“No, Isabella. It’s not.”

Fourteen

He broke all the rules for her.

Daniel Colebrooke, Earl of Colebrooke, had turned into a thief and a marauder of innocent young ladies’ respectability. What the hell had happened to him? He was an earl. And that title demanded certain responsibilities, which he promptly ignored every time he was with the delectable Isabella.

Daniel sat at a table in a darkened corner of White’s hoping no one would see him. He wanted to be alone with his decanter of claret and his thoughts before he had to go to the first party of the evening.

He’d come to the club hoping to ponder what he’d learned from Throckmorten’s journal, but he’d spent more time thinking about Isabella than about the dead man’s gambling habits.

There had been no surprise when he’d found his cousin’s name in the book. Bradford was probably in everyone’s gambling book, including the establishment where Daniel was sitting.

He downed the rest of the claret in his glass and poured himself another drink. There were names he’d found in Throckmorten’s journal that he hadn’t expected, like Thomas Wright’s. Although Tom didn’t owe the man a large amount, he was still indebted to him.

It was a bit of a surprise to see Lord Gleningwold’s name in there, too, considering Throckmorten was killed in his garden. And it was Throckmorten who owed the earl a substantial sum. Daniel just couldn’t picture the jovial earl as a killer.

Chilton Cummerford was also listed in the book. He’d been paying Throckmorten once a month for the better part of a year. He must have lost a great deal of money to the man in a card game. No doubt that was the reason that Chilton had visited Throckmorten’s.

He’d like to know why Chilton had kept that information from him when Daniel had questioned him about Throckmorten.

Daniel really didn’t know what to make of it all. He’d sat down and made a list of all the men who were in the journal who were present at Gleningwold’s party the night Throckmorten was killed. The number was less than a dozen, but that seemed like too many when you were trying to narrow it down to one.

He’d made up his mind to seek the help of a runner from Bow Street. He knew that Isabella was caught up in the intrigue of Throckmorten’s death, but Daniel’s only concern was that Gretchen’s name not be connected to the dead man’s.

A couple of gentlemen walked by laughing, and Daniel looked up from his drink. He should probably be going. He picked up his glass and took another sip. Isabella returned to his mind.

He remembered the way Isabella looked earlier in the afternoon when she took off her disguise. She was stunning. Her face had been flushed from the sun, her golden blond hair was tangled attractively, and her eyes shone like gemstones.

He’d been so tempted to take her in his arms and kiss her that he thought he was going to have to sit on his hands to keep from embracing her right in front of anyone who might be on the street. He’d wanted more than anything in the world at that moment to show Society that he didn’t give a damn about their rules. The only problem with doing that was that he did care.

At times like this, Daniel wished he was still just a second son. He hadn’t wanted to become the earl. He wished his brother were still alive and taking care of Gretchen and all the affairs of the title. But fate had made him an earl, and he had to take his responsibilities seriously.

Isabella was charming and he liked the way she made him feel. He enjoyed being with her, but how could he continue to see her? One day she was helping him plan devious acts, and the next day she was entertaining her Wallflowers Society. He couldn’t allow her to continue to be involved in such unsavory situations as gambling debts and a murder even though she seemed more than capable of taking care of herself.

Most young ladies he’d known over the years would have fainted or acted as Gretchen had if they saw a dead man, but Isabella had been completely in control and had immediately seen to Gretchen. He liked that she spoke intelligently. She’d impressed him earlier today when she wanted honesty between them.

Daniel had never worried that she’d hide anything from him concerning her feelings for him. He no longer thought she was up to mischief with her free thinking. She was merely caught up in the excitement and suspense of wanting to know who killed Throckmorten.

The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted her. He’d wanted her for days now. He wanted to take her in his arms and once again feel the shape of her body beneath his hands. He wanted to taste the depth of her mouth and her satiny smooth skin.

He remembered the way his body responded when he’d held her, the way her mouth responded to his, the way her softness rose up to meet his hardness. He thought of the pleasurable sigh that had floated past his lips at how she made him feel.

Still, he’d had no choice but to tell her she couldn’t continue helping him look into Throckmorten’s murder. Every time he saw her, he wanted to kiss her, and she was unconventional enough to let him. He didn’t know how to treat a young lady of quality who had no fear of losing her reputation.

Daniel sipped his drink again. Isabella was driving him insane with wanting her. He hadn’t planned to take a new mistress when he came to London. His plan was to find a wife, but it looked as if he was going to have to seek out a mistress because Isabella had him so tied up in knots he couldn’t keep his hands off her. And that could only lead to disaster.

Society was made up of two kinds of women. Those you married and those you didn’t. He had to make sure that Isabella remained one of the first and find a mistress for the latter.

***

Isabella and her aunt stepped out of the carriage at the home of the first party they were attending for the evening. The sky was clear of clouds, and there was a breezy crispness to the air that made the night feel springtime beautiful.

“Are you sure you are all right, Isabella?” her aunt questioned as they made their way to the front door of the house. “You don’t have that glow you’ve had the past several days.”

“I’m certain I’m fine, Auntie,” Isabella said in a voice as light as she could make it.

She hated fibbing to her aunt, but she couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. She wasn’t fine. She wanted to be a part of Daniel’s life and the adventure of looking for a murderer.

“Are you unhappy with the gown I picked out for you to wear?”

Isabella looked down at her pearl-white gown with three banded satin flounces. It was a bit overdone for Isabella, but she really didn’t mind wearing it since her aunt had been so happy with her choice.

“No, it’s lovely. Perhaps it’s just that attending two and three parties every night is getting to be too much even for me.”

“Yes. Perhaps we should start being more selective in which events we accept from now own. Especially if you continue to have afternoon rides in the park with Lord Colebrooke.”

That empty feeling settled in Isabella’s stomach again. “Auntie Pith, I’ve asked you not to read too much into my outings with him. Dan—Lord Colebrooke, has been calling on other young ladies, and I’m not certain he will call on me again.”

“I know, I know,” Auntie Pith said. She held up her hand to stop Isabella from saying more. “Of course he needs to consider everyone and he should. But when he is finished looking over all the young ladies, he will no doubt return to you.”

Isabella couldn’t very well tell her aunt that just this afternoon Daniel told her they no longer had a reason to see each other. Isabella understood that, she just hadn’t expected it to make her feel so dreadful. And was it the intrigue she was going to miss or was it Daniel that she would miss? Perhaps it was both.

They entered the house, and their cloaks were handed over to one of the servants. The house glowed from brightly lit candles and was filled with fashionably dressed ladies and handsomely garbed gentlemen. Music played in the distance, laughter and chatter rumbled throughout the crowded room.

Isabella held her chin and shoulders high, but not even the gaiety of the event could lift her spirits or the feeling that she’d lost something very dear to her. She hadn’t wanted Daniel or any man to become so important to her.

After they made their way through the receiving line Aunt Pithany said, “I see Mrs. Manchester, Isabella. Come with me and say hello to her.”

“You go ahead and speak to her, Auntie. I’ll join you in a moment. I want to make sure I have a dance card with me.”

Isabella made her way to the side of the room. It wasn’t like her to feel so melancholy. What on earth was wrong with her? She hadn’t felt this way since her father first left for Europe. She was over those feelings of loss, and she didn’t plan on letting them return to spoil the happiness she’d found in London.

She opened her drawstring reticule, and the first thing she saw was a white handkerchief. How could she have forgotten that she’d put Gretchen’s handkerchief in her purse when she’d found it near Mr. Throckmorten’s body? Probably because she had been so caught up in the intrigue of it all.

She pulled the handkerchief from her purse and folded it neatly so she could return it to Gretchen. Her thumb raked over the embroidered initials, and she took a moment to look at the finely stitched handiwork. All of a sudden her breathing became short and shallow. The three letters jumped out at her.

The initials weren’t Gretchen’s.

The last letter was a
W
, the same as Isabella’s. But the first was an
A
. She had picked up a handkerchief that wasn’t hers or Gretchen’s.

A spark of hope roared to life inside Isabella.

The intrigue with Daniel wasn’t over.

Another lady was in the garden with Mr. Throckmorten. She put the folded handkerchief back into her reticule and turned quickly to go find Daniel to tell him and bumped right into Mr. Thomas Wright.