Page 31 of A Little Bit Dangerous
“Are you not eating with us this morning?”
“Heavens, no. I woke with the larks and ate hours ago.”
Isabella took a moment to gather herself before greeting Mr Chance.
As soon as she stepped into the room, the musky scent of his cologne assaulted her senses. He was dressed impeccably in a dark blue coat moulded to his muscular torso. Many years had passed since she’d watched him in the garden, but he was still the only person who made her heart flutter.
He glanced up, pushing a golden lock of hair from his brow before standing. “Miss Lawton. I trust your spirits are revived after your traumatic experience yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” Every muscle ached. A tribute to how far she’d run. Yet she could think of nothing but how he’d spent his time while she dozed.
Mr Chance frowned. “Your father accosted you. At least that’s what Mrs Maloney said last night.”
“Yes. Forgive me. I’m just a little surprised to see you here.”
He rounded the table and pulled out her chair. “I’ll explain while you eat. I’m told you’ve eaten nothing since breakfast yesterday.”
She found herself smiling as she moved to take her seat. “I thought you disliked playing the gentleman.”
His fingers brushed against her shoulder, the merest touch sending shivers to her toes. “Perhaps you’d feel more comfortable if I did something wicked.”
“Like put salt in my tea?”
“Maybe something a little more daring.” He resumed his seat, his magnificent blue gaze pinning her to the chair, rendering her immobile.
“Does your brother know you’re here?” she asked, desperate to find a topic that didn’t send her wits scattering like leaves in the wind.
He poured coffee into her cup. “He knows.”
“From your tone, I presume he’s still angry.”
“His worst fears have been realised. Now Lawton knows of our connection, he will use it against us. None of us are safe until your father’s body is rotting in a shallow grave.”
Isabella inhaled sharply. Not because she felt a sliver of pity for the man who’d given her life—but because she felt nothing. Her heart was like a solid stone in her chest, except when she remembered the boy who’d given her biscuits.
“Does your brother have a plan, or are you sworn to secrecy?” She doubted he’d have permission to enlighten the enemy.
Mr Chance took two pieces of toast from the rack. “Daventry persuaded him to wait before making any rash decisions. He seems to think your father is smuggling goods from the Orient and selling them to the highest bidder. Lawton is on the verge of bankruptcy. It would explain why he’d take the risk.”
She sipped her coffee, the warmth relaxing her a little. “Mr Purton met with the men from the antiquaries yesterday. They arrived as soon as the curator left for Bath. I’m certain my father was on his way to meet them.”
“For what purpose?”
She shrugged. “To share the proceeds from their ill-gotten gains.”
“Daventry thinks your father may have been looking for you.” Mr Chance produced a piece of paper from his coat pocket—the latest gossip from theScandal Sheet.
Isabella almost expired when she saw her name mentioned. “Who wrote this? There wasn’t a soul at the museum while we were in attendance.”
Mr Chance snorted. “It hardly matters who. Now our connection is public knowledge, Aaron fears your father might get rid of you and lay the blame at my door.”
“Get rid of me?” She was too old for the seminary and would rather die than marry a stranger. But then recognition dawned. “Geoffrey Lawton is many things, but he would not murder his own daughter.”
“Then why run?”
The question stumped her.
Why had she bolted? Heavens, she’d run so fast her lungs burned. She’d hidden amid the shrubbery in the park like an escaped Bedlamite. All because she feared what her father would do.
