Page 14 of When the Rogue Returns
“Thank you, Mr. Cale,” she said brightly. “That is very kind of you.”
3
VICTOR FOLLOWEDISAand Lady Lochlaw downstairs. Isa had said that she’d thought her husband was Belgian. He’d forgotten that he’d never told her about his parents, ashamed of his father’s madness and his mother’s early life as a tavern wench. She’d seemed so sweet and gentle that he hadn’t wanted to reveal anything of his sordid past, afraid she would recoil.
But he saw nothing of that in her now.ThisIsa was a stranger. Lady Lochlaw was right: Shedidwalk like a man, and it only made her more attractive. This Isa was bold, fearless, independent. There’d been no panic in her face when she saw him, just contempt. She’d actually acted as ifhehad been the one to wrongher.It infuriated him.
It shook him.
And that wasn’t the only thing that shook him. In Amsterdam, she’d worn her lush brown hair in a simple braid wound about her head. Now she wore it in a confection of loops and ribbons that gave her an elegance he wasn’t used to.
HisIsa had been young and naïve and real. It was one of the things he’d liked about her—that she was so practical. That she hadn’t looked down her nose at him.
ThisIsa, with her beaded reticule and her ladylike manner and her rigid posture, wouldn’t have given an uncouth young soldier the time of day years ago.
Worse yet, she was even more beautiful than he remembered, if that were possible. Her skin was flawless, her mouth perfect, and the new defiant spark in her eyes...
A groan rose in his throat. He’d always remembered them as a melting brown that turned him soft inside. Now they were a mysterious and haunting brown that made him hard—everywhere.
He choked back an oath as he handed her up into the phaeton, all too aware of her attractions. He didn’t know how she’d gained those slightly larger breasts—no doubt some fancy addition to her corset—but he liked them. How the devil was he supposed to interrogate her, when all he wanted was to tear her clothes off and see what else had changed?
Admit it—you let your cock convince you to help your charming wife steal the royal diamonds!his inquisitors had shouted.
And he’d defended her. Because deep down, he’d known that hehadlet his cock do the thinking.
Never again.
With grim purpose, he leapt into the phaeton and took up the reins. After a curt farewell to her ladyship, he set the horses going. “Where are we headed?” he clipped out before they’d even turned the corner onto the main thoroughfare.
“It doesn’t matter,” Isa said. “I only wanted a chance to talk to you alone. I have to know—what do you want from me, Victor? Why are you here after nearly ten years?”
The way she acted, as ifheneeded to explain things, made him grit his teeth. “I’m surprised you’re even admitting that you know me,Mrs. Franke,since I’m supposed to be dead. Hard to ignore the husband standing right in front of you, reminding you of the vows you made.” He lowered his voice. “Of the number of times we shared a bed before you deserted me.”
“Deserted you!” she cried. “Youwere the one to run off to Antwerp without a word.”
“You knew I went to Antwerp?” he asked, stunned. If she’d already fled to Paris, how could she have heard that he’d gone to Antwerp after his life had been ruined?
Her eyes widened. “Oh, was I notsupposedto know?” She sat back against the seat with a little huff. “Of course not. You intended to go on with your life, free of the mousy wife you only acquired to get to the royal diamonds. I suppose that’s why you’re sniffing around me again—you’ve spent all the money from selling your share, and you need your mousy wife once more.”
Hisshare? His hands tightened on the reins. So that was her tack: She was going to blamehimfor the theft of the diamonds. And why the devil did she keep harping on being a “mousy wife”?
“First of all,” he growled, “I never considered you a ‘mousy’ anything. You came up with that all on your own. And I certainly never ‘acquired’ you to get to the royal diamonds.” His temper must have conveyed itself to the horses, because they were dragging on the reins, wanting to be sprung. “I could claim the same thing about you: You married me to get access to that strongbox.”
“You know I had nothing to do with that.” She clutched the reticule she’d been mangling ever since his arrival. “I did nothing wrong!”
“Really? Is that why you’re here in Scotland, living under an assumed name? Is that why you’ve run from me for years?”
“It wasn’t you I ran from; it was my cursed family. Why else do you think I chose your mother’s maiden name as an alias? My family didn’t know it. And it would enable you to track me from Paris, since you knew where I was staying there.” Her tone turned sarcastic. “It should have been easy enough. You used to be a soldier—didn’t you ever do reconnaissance, or whatever you soldiers call it?”
He was still reeling from the idea that she’d somehowexpectedhim to know where to find her when she added, “Of course, I never dreamed that you would wait tenyears, until you needed something from me. And whatdoyou need from me? Or will you keep pretending that you actually care about me?”
And let her know how deeply she’d dug herself under his skin, even after all this time? Not a chance in hell. “I need to know the truth.”
“Aboutwhat?” she cried. When people hurrying down the crowded street looked up, she dropped her voice. “Is this because you want a divorce? I’ll gladly give you whatever you need.”
For some reason, her eagerness to be free of him really pricked his temper. “Why, so you can marry yourprecious baron?” God, he sounded jealous. Which he wasn’t. Not a bit.
She snorted. “Don’t be absurd. I have no desire to marry Rupert, even if I could.”
