A Little Mischief (22 page)

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Excuse me, Miss Winslowe, it’s my fault,” he said quickly. “I was about to announce myself when you suddenly turned into me.”

She smiled at the tall, slightly built man staring down at her. “No harm done at all, Mr. Wright. How are you this evening?”

“Quite well and you?”

“Good, thank you.”

He gave her a nervous smile. “Might I say you’re looking lovely this evening, Miss Winslowe.”

“What a nice compliment, Mr. Wright, and you are dashing as always.”

A faint blush added color to his pale cheeks. He hesitated for a moment before saying, “I wanted to thank you for inviting Amanda to be a part of your afternoon teas. She is so shy and has never received many invitations. Despite what some people say, I think it has been good for her to join your Reading Society.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wright. I think so, too. She’s a delightful addition,” Isabella said, thinking that all of the ladies in her group had made progress in being more confident at the parties and balls. “We’re happy to have her join us. Is she here tonight?”

“Yes. She’s just left for the refreshment table with some of her friends.”

“Good. I’ll see her later.”

Isabella smiled but didn’t offer another sentence. She was anxious to excuse herself from him and find Daniel, but before she could say her good-byes, Bradford Turnbury stopped beside her.

“Good evening, Miss Winslowe. Tom,” Mr. Turnbury said, but he only looked at Isabella.

They both returned his greetings.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” Mr. Turnbury said.

“Not at all,” Isabella managed to say with a smile on her face, but it was getting harder to maintain. “I was just inquiring about Mr. Wright’s sister Amanda. Do you know her, Mr. Turnbury?”

“Yes. Lovely young lady. I’m sure you’re quite proud of her, as a brother should be.” He glanced at Mr. Wright before returning his attention to Isabella. “Miss Winslowe, I was hoping you would be free for a dance later in the evening. That is, if Tom hasn’t filled up your card?”

“Oh.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to decline when out of the corner of her eye Isabella saw Daniel and Gretchen walking her way. He was so fine-looking dressed in his black evening coat, white brocade waistcoat, and perfectly tied neckcloth.

Her heart tripped.

All of a sudden Isabella had an inkling of why she felt the way she did about Daniel. Could it be she was falling in love with him?

Love?

Where did that idea come from? No, no, she wouldn’t believe that.

Isabella had made up her mind two years ago about that when she realized she loved living in London and had no desire to go back to the quiet life of the country. She didn’t want or need to love a man. She wanted to be free to come and go as she wished, like her aunt. She was very happy with her life just as it was. The last thing she needed was the Earl of Colebrooke interfering with her plans.

It must be that she felt the soar in her heart when she looked at him only because of the intrigue they had been involved in. It had been exciting, and it didn’t appear that the suspense was over.

Isabella hesitated a moment longer before answering Mr. Turnbury so that Daniel would hear when she said, “I’d be delighted to dance with you later in the evening, Mr. Turnbury.”

“Splendid, Miss Winslowe. I shall look forward to it.”

When Daniel looked at her, his eyes were hot and demanding, and Isabella had no doubt that he’d heard every word she’d said to Mr. Turnbury.

As greetings and pleasantries were exchanged all around once again, Isabella mulled over the reasons why she once again accepted a dance with Mr. Turnbury. She had no desire to dance with the man, but that same ridiculous feeling of wanting to make Daniel jealous had come over her.

She didn’t know what made her behave that way when Daniel had made it more than clear he had no long-term interest in her. And she certainly didn’t want to have a romantic interest in him. But she did have romantic interests in him.

Isabella pushed the illogical and childish thoughts away. She wasn’t a young miss to be swept away by a handsome earl. She needed to concentrate on how she was going to get Daniel alone so she could tell him about the handkerchief. She offered little to the conversation as the five of them chatted but managed to make an intelligent comment or two.

It seemed to her that Daniel was purposely avoiding looking at her, and she felt rebuffed even though they had just that afternoon agreed that if they met at a party they would be polite but not overly friendly. They had planned never to meet alone again.

But that was before she’d discovered this new evidence. Now she had to speak to him alone, and she really didn’t want to wait until later in the evening.

Mr. Turnbury and Mr. Wright were between her and Daniel on one side, and Gretchen was between them on the other side.

Isabella hardly knew what was being said until she heard Mr. Wright ask Gretchen to dance. Gretchen looked him in the eyes, smiled, and said yes. Isabella smiled, too. Gretchen handled Mr. Wright perfectly.

They walked away and Isabella was left standing with Daniel and Mr. Turnbury. She certainly couldn’t say anything in front of his cousin. It was best to take her leave and try to see Daniel again later in the evening. Finding the handkerchief certainly put a different twist on who might have killed Mr. Throckmorten.

Just as she was about to take her leave for the third time, Lord Gleningwold approached them and once again greetings were said all around. Isabella had had enough bows and curtsies, good-evenings and how-are-yous. At this rate she would be standing in this one spot the entire evening.

Lord Gleningwold asked Mr. Turnbury a question, and Isabella saw it as her chance to inch closer to Daniel.

Keeping her lips and teeth closed and her gaze on Mr. Turnbury, Isabella mumbled to Daniel, “Ask me to dance.”

Daniel looked down at her and in a normal voice asked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Shh,” she whispered tight-lipped and tried to tell him with her eyes to talk softer.

Daniel caught on immediately and mimicked her by speaking softly with his lips closed. “Why are we whispering? I can hardly hear you.”

She moved a bit closer to him, hoping Mr. Turnbury would not turn his attention to them. “Ask me to dance. I must talk to you alone.”

“Have you forgotten we’ve already discussed that and decided not to do it?” he said.

“I haven’t forgotten. How could I? But things have changed. I have something important to tell you.”

His eyes narrowed. “What?” he asked beneath his breath.

“I have evidence that a woman killed Mr. Throckmorten.”

Fifteen

Daniel stared down into the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Despite his best efforts, a grin tugged at his lips.

Isabella was priceless.

Just when he was trying to talk himself into believing he didn’t desire her, she charmed him all over again. There was no denying the heat that thickened his loins whenever he looked into her vibrant eyes.

But this was no place for such feelings. Half the
ton
was present tonight, and his obnoxious cousin was standing right in front of him.

Denying the delicious heady warmth that stirred through him, Daniel turned away from Isabella. He cleared his throat to get the attention of the two men standing with him.

He waited until they acknowledged him before saying, “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I believe this conversation has become too indelicate for Miss Winslowe. I’m going to escort her to the punch table.”

Bradford gave him an infuriating glare that didn’t bother Daniel at all, but what his cousin said did.

“What nonsense are you talking about, Danny? We were discussing the new gardens that are being planted at Buckingham Palace.”

Bloody
hell.

“Right, I know,” Daniel said, stalling for time, wondering what the devil he was going to say to get out of this blunder.

“But you see, Mr. Turnbury,” Isabella spoke up quickly, “I’m one of those rare ladies who have an aversion to flowers, and it just so happens that Lord Colebrooke knows that.”

“Yes,” Daniel said, amazed at how easily Isabella came to his rescue with a made-up story, but nonetheless grateful she did.

“I had no idea you or any other lady disliked flowers,” Bradford said with a doubtful expression on his face.

“Oh,” Isabella said in her charming way. “I think it’s quite common, but mostly it affects ladies who grow up in the country, as I did. Perhaps it’s because most of the gardens are so expansive.”

Not wanting Bradford to take her to task any further, Daniel said, “Now, if you two gentlemen will excuse us, we’ll be on our way.”

“Wait, Miss Winslowe.” Bradford stopped her. “I’ll see you later in the evening for our dance.”

Isabella gave him a smile. “Of course. I’ll be waiting, Mr. Turnbury.”

Daniel couldn’t believe how tightly his stomach knotted when Isabella smiled so sweetly at his cousin. He wasn’t surprised that Bradford was interested in Isabella. She was the most poised and resourceful young lady he’d ever met. Her beauty was reserved and classic. What was he thinking?

Oh, hell. Everything about her was charming. And Daniel could only assume she found Bradford a polite and handsome fellow, or why else would she continue to accept his overtures?

As Daniel and Isabella left the two men, he said, “An aversion to flowers? Where did you come up with that idea?”

“From thin air, Lord Colebrooke, and it worked.”

Daniel grunted his appreciation as they made their way toward the room where the buffet was set.

It was impossible for them to talk in the crush of people that filled the house. They were stopped several times for greetings and introductions before they waded through the crowd and into the less packed dining room.

Daniel stopped at the table, and a servant poured Isabella a glass of punch. He picked up a glass of champagne for himself. He then escorted Isabella to a corner of the room where they would have a small measure of privacy to discuss her latest revelation.

When they were far enough away from listening ears, Daniel stepped as close to her as he dared without raising the eyebrows of the dowager he’d spotted in the room. He said, “Now, what’s this new evidence you have about Gretchen?”

Isabella’s expression turned quizzical. “I don’t have any about her,” she assured him.

“Damnation, Isabella, you had me on edge. What mad scheme have you come up with now?”

“What are you talking about, sir?” she challenged him. “I am not scheming anything. I told you I have evidence of
a
woman. Not Gretchen.”

Daniel hadn’t meant to sound so irritated. He knew it was a reaction to the way Isabella responded to Turnbury. It was illogical and not understandable, but Daniel didn’t want any other man dancing with her. He didn’t want anyone touching her hand, her waist, or even the tips of her fingers.

He tried to look contrite but wasn’t sure he’d managed. “Oh. You were whispering so softly I wasn’t sure what you said.”

“I believe you owe me an apology.”

“I don’t mean to swear in front of you, but you exasperate me sometimes. Most of the time.”

“I’m not offended by your language. What insults me is that you continue to think that I am up to mischief. I can’t believe that by now you don’t trust that I only want to help Gretchen.”

He wanted to believe her, but at times like this he still had reservations. “Very well,” he said. “Now, tell me what you are talking about.”

Her accusing gaze held firmly on his, and she refused to back down by saying, “An apology first, my lord, if you don’t mind.”

He saw her resolve not to go further until he’d said the words. Damnation, she tried his patience. “All right. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“Now will you tell me what the devil you’re talking about?”

Without further sparring she sat her punch cup on a nearby table and opened her reticule and pulled out the handkerchief. “This.”

Daniel looked at the little square of material that was more lace than anything else. “A lady’s handkerchief?”

She smiled confidently. “Yes.”

Daniel swallowed his irritation. He was irritated and he knew why. He’d much rather be kissing Isabella than talking to her about this. His lower body kept telling him he wanted to pull her to him and kiss her madly.

She was so tempting tonight with her hair swept away from her face and sprinkled with tiny white flowers. The waist of her gown was high and the neckline was cut low. It was an odd color that had the look of aged stone and it made her skin glow.

“Isabella, you had me on edge thinking you had evidence on Gretchen, and all you had was a wrinkled handkerchief?”

“No, my lord. You assumed that about Gretchen. And this happens to be a very important handkerchief. Do you remember the night we found Mr. Throckmorten in Lord Gleningwold’s garden?”