Page 52 of Eloping With The Princess
“Jason!”
And on the last one, he let go. She was now his wife.
Chapter Fourteen
Isabel stretched her body against the bed, noting the telltale soreness between her thighs. She smiled, feeling much, she suspected, like a cat who’d just snuck a lap of milk. Jason.
They had made love all night long, and yet she felt more rested now than she had in a long time. She sat upright and searched her room, but there was no sign of her husband. Doubt crept into her. Had he regretted their night together? His admission to her, the truth about his birth, had not changed things for her. She certainly didn’t care who his parents had been. She knew him now, that was all the mattered.
She’d hurt for him and the beleaguered young man he must have been when he’d made the decision to punish himself by not siring any children. The next time they spoke, she would tell him as much. Last night hadn’t been the right time; there had been only murmurs of lovemaking exchanged.
When she had dressed and gone downstairs in search of Jason, she’d been told he was out. He had left a message for her informing her that the Brotherhood had made progress with their investigation; he’d meant to tell her the night before. He’d increased security, which explained the footman waiting outside her bedchamber this morning.
The day passed with no sign of Jason, and she was beginning to feel as if she were prisoner in her own home, as she was scarcely alone. She’d asked if she could take a walk, but had been told no. So, she’d resigned herself to sitting in the parlor reading another instructional manual on fencing.
There came a rap at the door, and in stepped one of the new guards who was currently dressed as a butler.
“A Lady Candace to see you, Lady Ellis,” he said in his deep voice.
Isabel nearly winced. Precisely what had she done to deserve an evening call from her?
“Very well,” Isabel said. “Send her in.” Isabel moved away from the window where she’d been standing, but not precisely looking out at anything.
Lady Candace entered the room, grace personified, at least until Isabel glanced at her face. The smugness was nearly too much to bear, but Isabel forced herself to smile.
“Good evening,” Isabel said. “Lovely to see you again.” She resisted the urge to ask the woman what in heaven’s name had brought her back to Isabel’s door.
“This isn’t a social call,” Lady Candace said. “My father asked me to courier this over to you straightaway.” She held out an envelope.
Isabel might be a novice when it came to some proper etiquette, but she was almost certain that it wasn’t customary to send messages through one’s daughter. She took the note. “Would you care for tea? It’s a little late, but I’m certain the kitchen can prepare some.”
“There isn’t time. My father said you should read that immediately,” Lady Candace said.
Isabel’s pulse sped. She knew for certain that this was not customary. She turned over the envelope and slid a fingernail beneath the brown wax seal, quickly unfolding the letter.
Your Royal Highness Isabel Fiona Rindquest, Princess of Saldania:
We have your husband. Should you prefer to see him before he meets his demise, please accompany my daughter back to my address. I shall await your presence with bated breath.
Yours,
Lord Edward Blakely.
She leveled a gaze at Lady Candace. “Do you know what this says?”
The woman’s face went pale at the severity in Isabel’s tone. She shook her head. “Father does not discuss business with me. He merely requested I bring this to you and then wait for you to read it.”
Isabel nodded. This Lord Blakely was clever. He’d obviously known that Jason had Isabel heavily protected. So, he’d sent his daughter on what appeared to be a social call. The guards would not question her leaving with Lady Candace for a dinner engagement. Jason had told her he was trained, that she wasn’t truly putting his life in danger, and she’d wanted to believe him because selfishly she wanted to be his wife. This was her fault. She had brought this onto him. Well, she refused to allow them to hurt her husband.
“We must leave straightaway,” Isabel said. She grabbed Candace’s arm and pulled her to the door.
“Go where?”
“To your townhome. It would seem I’ve been invited to dinner,” Isabel said.
…
Jason stood in the shadows watching Lord Blakely’s townhome. He’d seen this townhome hundreds of times before, as it was directly next to the late Sir Potterfield’s townhome. But Jason had never paid much attention to the brown brick or white columns of Lord Blakely’s home. Jason had met him on more than one occasion, although they did not know each other beyond colloquial greetings.
