The Stranger I Married

the ring was boxed and tucked into his inner coat pocket before glancing at Isabel. As she had in the tailor’s, she stood staring out the window with a ramrod straight spine, every inch of her voluptuous form betraying her anger. He shook his head, and could not help but think that all the restrained passion in her was untapped. What the devil was Hargreaves doing, or more likely not doing, that left her so volatile? Another man might see the rigidness of her spine, and be discouraged. Gerard took it as a sign of hope.

He walked to her, drawn to the vibrancy that attracted everyone. Coming to a stop directly behind her, he breathed her in, and then whispered, “Can I take you home with me?”

Startled by Gray’s husky voice in her ear, Isabel spun about so quickly, he was forced to arch backward to avoid being whacked in the face with the brim of her hat. The near miss made him laugh, and once he started, he could not stop.

She gaped at him, awed by how young he looked when lost in merriment. His laugh sounded rusty, as if it had not been let out in awhile, and she loved the sound of it-deeper and richer than it had been before, and she had adored it even then. Unable to resist, she smiled, but when he grabbed his ribs and gasped, she had to laugh with him. Then he caught her about the waist, and spun her around, just like he used to do.

Setting her hands on his broad shoulders for balance, Isabel hung on, and remembered again how she enjoyed being with him.

“Put me down, Gray!” she cried.

With his head tilted back, he looked at her and said, “What will you give me if I do?”

“Oh, that’s not fair. You are making a spectacle of us. Everyone will hear of this.” She thought of Hargreaves’ expression when he’d seen them in the tailor’s, and her smile faded. How awful she was to cavort with Gray, when it would hurt John.

“A boon, Pel, or I will carry you around until you agree. I am quite strong, you know. And you are light as a feather.”

“I am not.”

“Are so.” His lip made that little pout of his. It would look ridiculous on any other man, but on Gray it made women want to kiss him. It made Isabel want to kiss him.

“You think too much,” he complained when she stared at him mutely. “You rejected my gift. Offering me a boon is the least you can do.”

“What do you want?”

He considered it a moment, and then said, “Supper.”

“Supper? Can you be more specific?”

“I want to have supper with you. Stay home tonight, and share a meal with me.”

“I have commitments.”

Gray moved to exit the shop. “My good man,” he called out to the clerk. “The door, if you would please.”

“You would not carry me outside like this.”

“Do you truly believe I wouldn’t?” he asked with a devilish smile. “I may have changed, but a leopard cannot completely lose its spots.”

Isabel glanced over her shoulder, and saw the street approaching and the multitude of pedestrians who strolled there. “Yes.”

He paused mid-step. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I will have supper with you.”

His grin was triumphant. “You are such a generous soul, Pel.”

“Stuff,” she muttered. “You are a blackguard, Grayson.”

“Perhaps.” He set her down, and then tucked her hand around his arm, leading her out to the street. “But really, would you want me any other way?”

Looking at him, seeing the lightening of the oppressive air that had surrounded him the day before, she knew she liked him best as a scoundrel. It was when he was most happy.

Just like Pelham.

Only a fool would make the same mistake twice.

Recognizing the voice of reason, Isabel reminded herself to heed it, and keep her physical distance from him. As long as he remained at least three feet away from her, she was fine.

“Lord Grayson!”

They both sighed as a rather large woman approached them wearing a monstrosity of a hat, and an even worse pink ruffled concoction of a dress.

“That is Lady Hamilton,” Isabel whispered. “A lovely woman.”

“Not in that garment,” Gray replied through his smile.

It took everything she had not to laugh aloud.

“Lady Pershing-Moore told me she saw you with Lady Grayson,” Lady Hamilton said, panting as she came to a halt before them. “I said she must be daft, but it seems she was correct.” She beamed. “So wonderful to see you again, my lord. How was…wherever you were?”

Gray accepted the offered hand, bowed over it, and said, “Miserable, as any locale would be without the company of my charming and beautiful wife.”

“Oh.” Lady Hamilton shot Isabel a wink. “Of course. Lady Grayson accepted an invitation to my rout, which will be held the week after next. I do pray that you intend to accompany her.”

“Certainly,” Gray said smoothly. “After my extended absence, I intend to never be away from her side for even a moment.”

“Wonderful! I now look forward to the event with even greater anticipation.”

“You are too kind.”

Saying her farewells, Lady Hamilton retreated quickly.

“Gray,” Isabel began with a sigh. “Why stir up gossip in this way?”

“If you think there is any possibility that we will not be gossiped about, you are delusional.” He continued down the street toward their waiting landau.

“Why add fuel to the fire?”

“Do they teach women how to speak in riddles in finishing school? I vow, you all do it so well.”

“Damn you, I agreed to be your escort until you find your footing, but that will not take long, and once you go your own way-”

“We are going the same way, Pel,” he drawled. “We’re married.”

“We can separate. After the last four years it would merely be a formality.”

Gray took a deep breath, and looked down at her. “Why would I want to do that? Better yet, why would you?”

Isabel kept her eyes ahead. How could she explain, when she wasn’t certain she knew the answer? She shrugged helplessly.

His hand over hers, he gave a soft squeeze. “A great deal has happened in the last twenty-four hours. Give both of us some time to adjust to one another. I admit, things between us have not progressed the way I anticipated.”

He assisted her into the landau, and then directed the driver home.

“What did you anticipate, Gray?” Perhaps if she knew his aim, she could find some understanding. Or at the very least ease some of her worry.

“I thought I would return, you and I would sit down with a few bottles of excellent vintage, and become reacquainted. I imagined slowly finding my way in this world, and settling into the comfort you and I once knew together.”

“I would like that,” she said softly. “But I doubt the possibility unless we can find a way to be like we were.”

“Is that truly what you desire?” He twisted in the seat to face her, and her gaze dropped, noting how muscular and powerful his thighs were. She could not seem to cease taking note of such things now. “Do you love Hargreaves?”

Isabel’s brows shot up. “Love him? No.”

“Then there is hope for us.” He smiled, but the determination in his voice was unmistakable.

“Not that I don’t care quite a bit for him, because I do. We have many interests in common. He is of a like age.