Page 82 of A Little Bit Dangerous
“If he thinks you love him, he’ll do everything in his power to protect you. Despite every loss he’s ever suffered, he would risk everything for a chance of happiness. If you truly love him, you must trust him. The man I know would never let you down.”
Tears gathered behind Isabella’s eyes.
“Besides,” Mrs Maloney continued, noticing she was visibly upset, “despite Aaron’s objections, he’s given those boys everything. If Christian wants you, Aaron will make sure nothing gets in the way.”
A feeling deep in her chest said Mrs Maloney was right.
If she could just find the courage to remain steadfast, happiness was within her grasp. “Thank you.” Isabella gripped the woman’s hand affectionately. “I’m used to mulling problems over in my mind. Your insight has been invaluable. How can I ever repay you?”
Mrs Maloney gave a mischievous chuckle and beckoned her closer. “Be a dear and fetch me a glass of Aaron’s vintage port. My old legs won’t make it back up these stairs.”
Feeling suddenly lighter, Isabella smiled. “As long as you say nothing about me visiting Christian’s room tonight.” She planned to make love to him again, convince him she would fight, not leave.
“My lips are sealed. But you must confide in him, dear, not me.”
Isabella took Mrs Maloney’s empty glass and crept downstairs. The hall was deserted, but boisterous laughter and the hum of excited conversation echoed from the card room.
Aaron Chance kept his best port in his study, a private room overlooking Aldgate Street. The heavy curtains were open, and the black throne-like chair behind the desk gave the perfect view of The Burnished Jade.
Not wishing to remain there too long, Isabella quickly poured the port and took a sip for Dutch courage.
The sudden ringing of the overhead bell in the hall had her darting behind the curtains. The stomp of booted footsteps preceded someone opening the front door.
Don’t let it be Aaron!
Sigmund spoke, his voice firm. “I’ll tell you what I told you half an hour ago. This is a gentlemen’s club. Women aren’t welcome. Be on your way. Don’t let me see you here again.”
The person asked for Mr Chance, at which point Sigmund informed her all the men of that name were otherwise engaged. “Then I need to speak to Miss Lawton. It’s an urgent matter that can’t wait. I’ve important news. She’s in grave danger.”
“Like I said, there’s no one here of that name.”
The woman persisted. “Fetch her, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Move away, or I’ll call the watchman.” Sigmund slammed the door. He released a string of expletives as his heavy footsteps receded.
Isabella peered covertly out of the window. Unperturbed by the rain, a woman wearing a hooded cloak crossed the street before turning to stare at the gaming hell.
It was too dark outside to confirm her identity.
Thoughts of Nancy Jones entered her mind. What if the maid was forced to spend a night on the street? Perhaps she had forgotten to ask for Delphine. It wasn’t an easy name to remember.
Isabella prised the study door from the jamb. Noticing the hall was empty, she hurried to open the front door. The cloaked figure stood staring at the Den, and so Isabella beckoned the woman forward.
“Hello,” she called, not daring to cross the threshold. It had to be Nancy. No one else would visit a gaming hell at night. “Nancy.”
She should call Sigmund, but then she would have to explain what she was doing in Aaron Chance’s study. The man might think she was snooping, gathering information for her father. He’d never trust her again.
“Nancy!”
Thankfully, the woman saw her and hurried forward, dashing through puddles with nary a care. A lock of red hair slipped from under her hood.
Good heavens! It wasn’t Nancy. It was Ethel Cartwright.
That’s when Isabella noticed the flash of terror in the woman’s eyes. Still, she was mindful to remain indoors.
Like that of a frightened doe, Ethel’s gaze shifted left and right along the street. “Miss Lawton!” she cried, shaking her head.
Panic ensued, along with a feeling of immense dread.
