Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord
Page 90

Except, all of a sudden, she seemed to need him quite desperately.
An ache started in her chest.
She would be alone once more.
“It’s Densmore,” she announced to the room, her voice emotionless.
“No.” Lara shook her head. “It’s the Duke of Leighton. He has come to fetch his sister.”
Nineteen
Minutes later, Isabel was pressing her ear to the heavy mahogany door of the earl’s study. She could detect the low hum of masculine voices from within, but their words were impossible to understand. She leaned closer, cursing the earl who had selected such a sturdy portal.
While she appreciated that had the ancestor in question likely had goings-on that he had not wanted overheard, the choice of two-inch-thick wood showed an obvious lack of foresight when it came to the requirements of future generations.
“Nick is in there with him?” she whispered. “Yes,” Jane replied, just as quietly. “He joined him almost immediately.”
Isabel turned an irritated look on the butler. “And why was he given the opportunity to meet with him before I?”
Jane had the good grace to look chagrined. “He asked for you and Lord Nicholas and his sister when he arrived. Since I knew his sister was not an option, I opted for you and Lord Nicholas, not wanting to irritate the man any more than he already is.”
“He seems irritated?”
“There’s no seeming about it. The man is furious.”
“Well, I suppose I should not be surprised to hear that.” Isabel pressed her ear back to the door.
The butler whispered, “You shan’t hear anything that way.”
“Yes, Jane, I’ve discovered that, thank you.”
What were they talking about in there?
Was Nick pleading their case?
Or was he betraying their trust once more?
Isabel quashed the thought. Surely after last night…
“Would you like to sneak around the outside of the house and see if we can hear from beneath the windows?”
Isabel considered the idea for a fleeting moment before she realized just how craven such an action would be. With a frustrated sigh, she turned her back to the door and faced the staircase at the center of the great foyer of the house, where Lara and Georgiana stood. “No. I shall go in.” She set her hand to the door handle before Lara stayed her. “You aren’t going to knock?”
“I am not. For two reasons. First, I appreciate the element of surprise. And, second, it’s my house. The duke had better get used to that idea.”
She ignored the three sets of wide, doubtful eyes watching her and entered the study, closing the door sharply behind her.
“Dammit, Leighton, you’re not hearing me …” Nick trailed off as she entered, turning to give a short bow in her direction. Isabel noted the concern in his blue gaze and ignored the instant pounding of her heart at the sight of him.
He was too handsome for his own good, or hers.
She redirected her attention to the second man in the room.
Who was not much better.
It appeared that the Duke of Leighton was an angel. She’d never seen anyone like him—a man who could only be described as beautiful. He was tall and broad, with a mass of golden curls; high, angular cheekbones; and eyes like his sister’s—the color of warm honey, fresh from the comb.
Surely a man this perfect was not the portrait of arrogant entitlement that everyone claimed.
“I assume you are the chit who is hiding her.” His tone was flat and unemotional.
Apparently he was both arrogant and entitled. And rude.
“Leighton.” Nick growled the name.
Isabel squared her shoulders and ignored the snaking pleasure she felt at his warning tone.
She did not need him. Would not.
“I am Lady Isabel.”
If the duke heard her emphasis on the honorific, he did not let on. “I am happy that you were finally able to find time to join us.”
Her brows rose at the sarcasm in his tone. What a loathsome man. No wonder Georgiana had run from him. “What is it that I can do for you? ”
“I’ve already discussed the matter with St. John.”
His imperious tone set her on edge. “Excellent. And what is it that you think Lord Nicholas will be able to do to help your cause, considering that it is I who run Townsend Park?”
His gaze narrowed on her. “As far as I understand it, Lady Isabel”—he said her name like it was poison—“you have absolutely no hold on Townsend Park, nor anything in it.” She went cold as he continued. “Indeed, it seems to me that my speaking to you will succeed in doing nothing but infuriating us both.” He leveled her with a cool look. “Do not make me seek out Lord Densmore to get what I want.”
He was threatening her!
She opened her mouth to retort, but Nick entered the fray. “I should not have to remind you that we are in the lady’s house, and you will treat her with the respect she is due.”
The duke did not look away from Isabel. “She kidnapped my sister, St. John. What respect is due her for that? ”
“I did no such thing!” Isabel protested.
“Yes, well, I imagine it will sound very like that when the magistrate hears of it.”
Isabel gasped at the threat.
Nick’s scar grew stark. “Leighton. Enough.”
Isabel turned on him. “You call this cretin a friend? ”
“Cretin?” Leighton’s voice shook the walls. “I am a peer of the realm and a duke. You will refer to me with respect.”
Isabel’s eyes flashed. “No, I don’t believe I will.”