n town?”
As a widow, it was quite acceptable. “I did not want to stay with Henry.” Samuel’s son and heir regarded her with disdain. He made no secret of the fact he disapproved of her marriage to his father. “And I knew if I wrote to you, you would not travel to see me.”
“Perhaps not.”
As they had not spoken since the night he had informed her they could only ever be friends, she would not have asked to stay in Bedford Square, either.
“I cannot afford to remain in town indefinitely. I must return h-home—” The sob almost choked her when she tried to suppress the sound. It was selfish of her to cry when he was the one who had lost his brother in so cruel a way. “I know I must go back, Tristan, but I am frightened.”
Without a word, he caught her wrist and pulled her to his chest. “I will help you find the person responsible for these crimes,” he said as he held her close. “You will go home, and you will live without fear. I promise you that.”
The hard shell around her heart splintered and cracked. She closed her eyes and inhaled the spicy masculine scent that made her head spin. She let the heat radiating from his body soothe her cold, tired limbs. Encompassed tightly in his arms was the only place she had ever felt safe.
He stepped back, cupped her face with both hands. “I will help you,” he repeated. “We will begin by returning to Highley Grange. Pack your things tonight. In the morning, I will meet you in Hoddesdon, opposite the Blue Boar Inn.”
“You’re … you’re coming home with me?” Isabella swallowed as she imagined them spending their days strolling in the garden, and their nights huddled around the fire.
He nodded. “Mention it to no one.”
That would not pose a problem. She had no friends amongst society.
“But what will you tell your mother?”
He shrugged. “I’ll say I'm going to Kempston Hall on business.”
An overwhelming sense of gratitude swelled in her chest. “Do you mean it? I cannot thank you enough, Tristan. After all that has happened, I never expected—”
He placed his finger on her lips. “Let us not speak of the past anymore. It will only hinder our progress. Let us accept that we share the same goal, accept that we can work together as friends.”
There was a time when she would have told him to go to the devil. But she needed him. She always had.
“You do realise that in offering your assistance you could potentially be risking your life.”
“We do not know that for certain,” he said confidently. There was not even a flicker of doubt in his dazzling blue eyes. “Until we can establish a motive for murder we cannot be sure of anything.”
When he heard the widow wailing, when he saw the bloodhound slobbering, then he might take a different view.
“We should return to the ballroom.” She glanced back at their masks lying on the stone bench. “I have much to attend to if I am to leave in the morning.”
He inclined his head. “I suggest we meet at nine. There must be at least thirty coaches passing through Hoddesdon every day on their way to Cambridge. I should like to avoid meeting anyone who might recognise me.”
“Nine?” she raised a brow. “But you would need to leave London before six. Is that not far too early for you?”
“At the monastery we often rose before dawn. Sometimes we never slept at all.”
“Why?” She smiled in amusement. “Was it some form of penance? Were you forced to confess your sins and say your prayers?”
“No, Isabella. We did what we had to do to stay one step ahead of the smugglers and murderers.”
Chapter 5
“I shall wait opposite the Blue Boar Inn, near the ancient oak tree.” Tristan opened the door of Isabella’s carriage and waited for her to settle into the cushioned seat.
Anyone listening would have presumed they were planning a secret rendezvous. A lovers’ tryst. A frisson of excitement coursed through his veins. The exquisite emotion brought with it a memory of when they had met under an old cedar tree. That afternoon, she had climbed into his conveyance to set out on an adventure, a quest for the freedom to express their love.
“I shall meet you there at nine.” She lurched forward, placed her hand lightly on his arm as he held on to the door. “Thank you. Perhaps tonight I might finally be able to sleep.”
He forced a smile to disguise the distress her touch evoked. How would he fare spending a few days in her company? When all was done and settled, would she put him out of his misery and explain her reason for marrying Lord Fernall? Would the truth ease years of excruciating torment?