Page 8 of Let Me Be Your Hero
Izzie could see the whites of Mr. Bassingthwaighte’s eyes in the moonlight. He retreated three steps, bumping into one of the columns.
Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy seized the lapels of his coat in his right hand. Lifting him off the ground with one arm, he slammed him against the faux ruin, holding him in place with his feet dangling off the ground. “If you don’t,” he said, his voice terrifyingly quiet, “then I will break every bone in your body.” His voice crescendoed to a roar as he said, “Which also happens to be what I will do if you breathe a word toanyoneabout her presence here tonight! Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes!” Mr. Bassingthwaighte squeaked.
“Good.” Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy tossed him to the side.
Mr. Bassingthwaighte stumbled but managed to keep his feet. “Lady Isabella, I—”
“Don’t talk,” Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy ordered. “Just leave.”
Mr. Bassingthwaighte complied, scrambling back into the grove of trees from whence he’d come.
Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy hurried back to the column where Izzie still sat. An image flashed across her mind of him dressed not in an evening suit but in plate and chainmail.
My knight in shining armor.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I am. Thanks to you. He was the one I was running away from when I crashed into you.” She swallowed. “He assumed I had come back here looking for him. I panicked and told him I was meeting someone else. So, when I saw you, I… I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have… you know…”
She trailed off, wondering how he would react. She had admitted that the reason she had kissed him was to stage a scene for Mr. Bassingthwaighte. And it had certainly started off that way.
But by the end… By the end, everything had changed.
Which was exactly what was supposed to happen when you kissed the right man.
Izzie bit her lip, wondering if Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy really was the right man for her and if she had just given the impression that she hadn’t really wanted to kiss him.
He didn’t look angry. He nodded sympathetically. “It’s all right. He won’t bother you again. If he does”—his face turned dark—“just let me know.”
Izzie took his hand and pressed it. “I will. Thank you.” She wanted him to touch her, wanted him to kiss her again. But it seemed that the usual rules of how a gentleman was supposed to treat a young lady had somehow crept back into place, and she wasn’t sure how to overcome them.
The fireworks display had ended, so that you could once again hear the night sounds of the garden.
And other sounds, too. From the front of the gardens, she heard her twin sister’s voice. “Izzie?”
A deeper voice. Her brother, Edward. “Izzie, where are you?”
“Isabella Astley, you had better come out of thereright now, or with God as my witness—”
Izzie bit back a smile. The last one was definitely her mother.
“Come,” Mr. Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy said. “You’ve been missed.”
He scooped her off the column as if she were as light as a cushion and gently set her on the ground.
She straightened her skirts. “Do I look all right?”
He tilted his head, looking baffled. “Do you look all right? You always look…” He suddenly turned his head, dropping his voice to a whisper as he added, “… beautiful.”
Izzie’s heart gave a little squeeze. Maybe he did like her. Maybe she stood a chance.
Maybe she hadn’t already ruined everything.
“I meant, are there any obvious signs that we were… you know…”
“Oh.” He circled around her, his gaze checking her from head to foot. “Your hair is a little, um…”
