What Isabella Desires by Anne Mallory

Author:Anne Mallory [Mallory, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780061242397
Publisher: Avon Books
Published: 2007-07-11T23:00:00+00:00

A few hours later, with Isabella on his arm, he followed the stream of people leaving the house. The Donningtons lived just outside of London proper and had a drive where the carriages couldn’t be brought forth to the front. Guests made a promenade down the drive instead. More than one couple used the walk as an excuse to hang onto the arm of their chosen escort or to clutch their lady closer.

Marcus was trying to figure out how to proceed. He felt like a boy just out of school. Worried about his lady and what he could do to mess it all up.

He hadn’t felt this way since before his father died. Being detached was so much easier.

It wasn’t until they were halfway to the carriage that he noticed multiple pairs of eyes staring at them. Not from the other patrons; no, from the men stationed between the carriages.

He let his eyes scan the other directions. Men were circling there as well. Not apparent to anyone but a close observer.

“Marcus, are you going on to the Plessandes’?”

He calculated five to six men.

“Perhaps.”

In and of itself a high number.

“Perhaps? Didn’t you respond?”

He wondered where they had found so many men willing to take down a peer.

“Yes.”

It was a crime punishable by death.

“Well, you should at least put in an appearance.”

The person who hired them must be more bold and desperate than he’d thought.

“You know how these things work.”

He had to get Isabella safely away from him before the men made their move.

“Yes, I do. And good manners dictate you should at least put in an appearance.”

They would wait for the crowd to thin, or simply follow him.

“Wouldn’t you rather we go somewhere else? I promised you those dances.”

He would get her to go back to her house…

She paused. “When you put it that way, I doubt the Plessandes would notice our absence.”

…while he led the beady-eyed men in footmen’s garb away.

“Oh, they’ll notice. Everyone will notice.”

She would be safe at home while he was leading everyone else astray.

She sighed. “You are about to put forth some shockingly appalling plan where you show up at the Plessandes’ and then disappear, only to reappear at my window.”

He stopped surveying the scene for a moment and looked at her in consternation. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s what you do. Don’t tell me that you think I haven’t noticed the number of times you’ve come to a rout only to disappear. James and Stephen always say something to the others about you being in the card room, or out getting some air, but you never are where they say until later in the evening when you suddenly reappear—cravat somewhat more starchly tied than before, tugging at your cuffs to arrange them in place.”

He noticed one of the men moving forward, and he increased their pace to catch up with the foursome of guests ahead.

“I beg your pardon, I don’t tug on my cuffs.”

However, he was shocked that she had been so observant.

“You don’t usually. Generally you are unnaturally still.

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