Raising his gaze, he found Spencer standing before him. “Not nearly.”
Flooded with guilt for what he had done to Emily, Gerard set to work, doing what he had done for four long years-exorcised his demons by exhausting them.
“Lady Grayson.”
Lifting her gaze from the book before her, Isabel saw John approaching where she sat on the rear Hammond terrace and offered him a gentle smile. Nearby to the right, Rhys sat with Miss Abigail and the Hammonds. To the left, the Earl and Countess of Ansell were enjoying afternoon tea with Lady Stanhope.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” she greeted in return, admiring his trim form dressed in dark gray, and his sparkling eyes.
“May I join you?”
“Please do.” Despite the things left unspoken between them, she was grateful for his company. Especially after sharing tea with the dowager, who had thankfully just departed.
Closing her novel, she set it aside and gestured to a servant for more refreshments.
“How are you, Isabel?” he asked with a searching glance, once he settled in the seat across from her.
“I am well, John,” she assured him. “Very well. How are you?”
“I, too, am well.”
She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “Please tell me truthfully. Have I hurt you?”
His smile was so genuine it soothed her immeasurably. “My pride smarts, yes. But truthfully, we were slowly approaching the end of our association, were we not? I was oblivious to it, as I have been oblivious to most things since Lady Hargreaves passed on.”
Her heart welled with tenderness. Having lost a love once, she knew partly how it felt. It must have been much worse for John, since he had been loved in return.
“My time with you meant a great deal to me, John. Despite the horridly abrupt way our liaison ended, you do know that, don’t you?”
Leaning into the backrest, he held her earnest gaze and said, “I do know that, Isabel, and your feelings for me made it much easier to see the purpose of our liaison and give it the closure it deserves. You and I came together for solace, the both of us wounded by our marriages-me, by the death of my beloved wife, and you, by the death of your not-so-loved husband. No strings, no demands, no goals…just companionship. How could I ever resent you for moving forward when something deeper came into your life?”
“Thank you,” she said fervently, taking in every aspect of his handsome features with renewed affection. “For everything.”
“In truth, I envy you. When Grayson came to me, I-”
“What?” She blinked in surprise. “What do you mean ‘he came’ to you?”
John laughed. “So, he didn’t tell you. My respect for him has increased two-fold.”
“What did he say?” she asked, nearly overrun with curiosity.
“What he said is not important. It is the passion with which he said it that I envied. I want that, too, and I think I am finally ready for it, thanks in no small part to you.”
She wished she could reach out and squeeze his hand, which rested casually on the table, but she could not. Instead, she urged, “Promise me that we shall always be friends.”
“Isabel.” His voice held a smile. And a thread of steel. “Nothing on this earth could prevent me from being your friend.”
“Truly?” She arched a brow. “What if I play matchmaker? I have a friend…”
John gave a mock shudder. “Now, that might do it.”
As soon as Gerard and Spencer returned to the Hammond manse, they went straight to their rooms to bathe away the odors, sweat, and grime of the day.
Gerard longed to go to Isabel and had to fight the powerful urge to do so. He needed to talk with her, and share his discovery. He wanted to find comfort in her and soothe her fears with the knowledge that she was above all women to him. Most of all, he suspected she always would be and he wanted her to know that.
But then he wished to hold her, too, and he needed to be clean to do that.
So he sank into a hot bath, rested his head against the lip, and dismissed Edward.
When the door opened long moments later, he smiled, but kept his eyes closed. “Good evening, vixen. Did you miss me?”
A throaty murmur of assent made his smile broaden.
Isabel drew closer and his blood quickened with anticipation. Languid from exhaustion and the warmth of the bath, it took him precious moments to register the scent of a foreign perfume as she bent over him, then the re- opening of the door…
…just before an equally foreign hand thrust into the water and wrapped around his cock.
He jerked in surprise, sloshing water over the rim of the tub as he opened his eyes and met Barbara’s startled gaze. He’d noted the inviting glances she sent his way, but he had thought her wise enough to heed his returning scowl and warning at the Hammond’s ball in town. Apparently not.
He caught her wrist just as her gaze lifted and then filled with abject horror.
“If you wish to keep that hand,” came Pel’s voice from the adjoining doorway. “I strongly suggest you remove it from my husband’s bath.”
Dripping with ice, the words chilled him despite the warmth of the water he sat in.
Chapter 15
Baring his teeth, Gerard growled at his intruder, who stumbled back in fright. Rising from the water, he caught up the towel that had been draped over a chair by his valet and watched Pel stalk Barbara out of the room.
Isabel shouted down the hallway after Barbara’s retreating figure. “I am not done with you, madam!”
Squaring his shoulders, Gerard waited for his lioness to turn and face him. When she did, he flinched at her thundercloud expression. She stared at him a moment with unreadable amber eyes, her hair loose and flowing about her torso, her lush body covered in a dressing gown. Then she turned away, moving quickly to her room.
“Isabel.”
He fumbled for his robe and followed her, holding his hand out to prevent the rapidly closing door from smacking him in the face. Once inside, he studied her warily as he dressed, watched her pacing, wondered how to begin the conversation. Finally, he said, “I did not instigate nor participate in that advance.”
She shot a sidelong glance at him, but did not still her pacing.
“I think you want to believe me,” he murmured. She was not hurling invectives at him, or objects for that matter.
“It is not that simple.”
Walking toward her, he caught her shoulders, forcing her to still. It was then he felt her labored breathing, which caused his heart to race desperately. “It
Isabel’s gaze lifted and bore that same dazed, unfocused film he had seen at the Hammond’s ball.
Cupping her cheeks with his hands, he tilted her face up. “Isabel, my love.” He pressed his cheek to hers and breathed deeply, inhaling her scent. “I am not Pelham. Perhaps, before…when I was younger…”
She clutched his robe in clenched fists.
He sighed. “I am no longer that man, and I have never been Pelham. I have never lied to you, never hidden anything from you. From the moment we met, I have opened myself to you like I have with no other. You have seen me at my worst.” Turning his head, he kissed her cold lips, licking the seam, coaxing them softly to open. “Can you not find it in your heart to see me at my best?”
