His Wicked Embrace by Adrienne Basso

Author:Adrienne Basso
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2012-08-28T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Isabella was fully prepared to despise Lord Poole. In a perverse way, she was almost looking forward to it. Here at last was something tangible toward which to project her feelings of anger and frustration. While it was true that the entire blame for Isabella’s current predicament could hardly be placed at Lord Poole’s feet, his accountability in her troubles was still significant and Isabella intended to make full use of it. Yet one obstacle to her plan quickly became apparent. Lord Poole proved to be both a charming and a likeable man.

“I’ve brought some trinkets for the children,” Lord Poole ventured from the schoolroom. doorway. “If you have no objections, I’d very much like to give these gifts to my niece and nephew.”

He stood a respectful distance away, clearly awaiting permission to enter the schoolroom. Isabella could not think of a valid reason to refuse his simple request without appearing shrewish.

“We have finished with our lessons for this afternoon. Please, come in, Lord Poole,” Isabella invited in a chilled tone. “Catherine, Ian, step forward so I may present you properly. This gentleman has traveled all the way from London to visit you. He is your Uncle ... ?” Isabella turned a questioning eye to Lord Poole.

“Thomas,” he supplied readily. “I am your Uncle Thomas. It would please me greatly if you would address me as such.”

Lord Poole entered the room casually, his arms laden with several parcels of various shapes and sizes. A few were tied with string, and one large box sported an impressive red bow with matching ribbons. Both Catherine and Ian moved toward the stranger curiously.

Isabella noted that Lord Poole had changed his travel-stained clothes and was now elegantly garbed in immaculate doeskin breeches, a starched white linen shirt, an impressive waistcoat . patterned in silver and gold, and a handsomely fitted dark brown jacket. The intricate tie of his cravat suggested that Lord Poole’s valet had also made the journey from London. No man could be so well turned out in such a short span of time without expert assistance, and Isabella highly doubted Jenkins had offered his services to their unexpected guest.

Isabella studied him openly as he presented his gifts with a flourish to Catherine and Ian, allowing that Lord Poole was an attractive man, in a polished and florid way.

“Oh, look, Miss Browning,” Ian called out excitedly as he pulled out a lethal-looking sword from the box his uncle gave him.

“My goodness, is that blade made from steel?” Isabella questioned in alarm, attempting but failing to extract the toy from Ian’s grip.

“ ’Tis made of wood,” Lord Poole responded, “and painted rather cleverly to resemble metal. I’ll own I know nothing of small children, Miss Browning, but even I possess the good sense not to purchase something that would pose a danger to my nephew.” He took the sword from Ian and swung it experimentally in the air. It made a swishing sound. “I saw the sword in the window of a shop on Bond street and couldn’t resist buying it.

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