Authors: Tina Gabrielle
A Perfect Scandal (29 page)
“I thought you never fainted, sweetheart.”
Isabel lay in drowsy warmth as the masculine voice washed over her.
“Please wake, my love.”
The murmured words echoed in her mind, and she knew she must be dreaming. For it was Marcus’s voice, filled with reverence and love. She snuggled deeper into the soft bed she lay upon, further beneath a downy coverlet, perfectly content for the dream to continue.
“Isabel.”
She wrinkled her nose as her subconscious thoughts surfaced. She fought waking, not wanting the Marcus of her dream to vanish or to face reality. Something ugly had happened. She could not recall exactly what, but she knew it was a cataclysmic event that she did not want to face.
A soft caress cupped her cheek.
She sighed and opened her eyes. Marcus sat in a chair beside her. His handsome face was a mask of concern, his square jaw tense. His curly, jet hair was unruly as if he had run his fingers through it repeatedly in agitation. His dark, earnest eyes brimmed with disquiet as he gazed upon her. A brief glance at her surroundings told her she was in her bedroom at the town house on St. James’s Street.
“You fainted,” he said.
She blinked and focused her gaze. “I never faint.”
His tight expression relaxed into a smile. “I have been worried sick. You haven’t stirred for two hours.”
She sat up, and a cold shiver spread over her as memories of recent events rushed back to her in an avalanche. She remembered everything…
The studio. The noose. Harold Benning and Horatio Kulzer.
Her feet felt strange, and she flexed them beneath the covers. There was a dull pain, and she realized they were tightly bandaged.
“We had to remove shards of glass. Do they hurt?” he asked, deeply concerned.
“Not badly.” She glanced down at her hands folded in her lap, and whispered. “You came for me.”
“I was not soon enough. My God, Isabel, please forgive me.”
She met his eyes. “You shot Horatio Kulzer and saved me. You more than fulfilled your duty.”
He looked aghast. “My duty? Is that why you think I came?”
“You had said—”
“Forget what I said. I’ve been a fool.”
Her heart lurched at the eager look in his eyes. Dare she hope…
He cradled her hands in his. “I refuse to allow one more moment to pass without confessing the truth. I love you, Isabel.”
“But Simone…”
“I swear to you I have no feelings for Simone Winston or any other woman. The moment you crossed the Holloways’ ballroom and boldly asked me to dance, I began to fall under your spell.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Then why did you ask me to leave?”
“I used the threat to your life as an excuse to bury my feelings, and I foolishly focused on vengeance against an unknown enemy. But the truth was I feared to love, to open my heart. When I had learned you were abducted, I nearly lost my mind and the truth in my heart became clear. You are a rare treasure, the only woman who has truly loved me despite my past and has given me hope for the future.”
Raising her hands, he placed a heated kiss on each palm. “I want you as my
real
wife, Isabel. I
need
you.”
Crying out with joy, she embraced him, and his arms immediately tightened around her. “I have waited forever to hear you speak those words, Marcus. I have adored you since childhood, and when I believed you did not want me, my heart was shattered.”
He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. His kiss lingered, savoring the moment like velvet warmth against her lips.
Pulling back, he looked in her eyes. “My heart’s desire is for you to stay with me forever. But I’ll not force you to give up your lifelong dream of studying art in Paris.”
“Oh, Marcus. Paris stopped being my dream the night we made love in your library.”
“I have many contacts in the art world. I shall arrange to have the best watercolor instructor at the Royal Academy tutor you himself. I would never discourage you from pursuing your artistic endeavors,” he vowed.
She thought of her father, Lord Walling, and her past suitors. All had frowned upon a woman studying anything other than how to be a proper wife and hostess. She had known all along that Marcus Hawksley had always been special, and her heart raced at his thoughtfulness.
Her lips trembled with the need to smile. “I’m certain that Roman will be pleased if I stay in London.”
“Roman?”
“Yes. If I were to leave, Charlotte would follow and your brother would be quite upset.”
He grinned. “He does fancy her.”
“He’ll have to woo her. From what I witnessed, she’ll not make it easy,” she said.
“Roman likes a challenge.”
A troubling thought occurred to her. “What will we tell Charlotte about her stepfather?”
“A constable from Bow Street, accompanied by Investigator Harrison, has notified Charlotte and Leticia Benning of Harold Benning’s demise. They were told it was an accident,” he said.
“An accident?”
Marcus nodded. “Bow Street concluded that Benning was acquiring art in the artists’ district and fell through a faulty step. Investigator Harrison did not enlighten them as to Benning’s shady background. Instead, Harrison moved Horatio Kulzer’s body to the back alley, where the constable found the corpse. Kulzer was a well-known thug wanted for numerous crimes, and the authorities assumed he was killed in a separate incident.”
“I have my doubts that Charlotte will believe such a tale about her stepfather, and as my best friend, I feel compelled to tell her the truth. But does Leticia believe the story?” she asked.
“From what I was told, both women thought Harold Benning was having an affair and that he planned on leaving them. Neither shed a tear when they were told of his death.”
He studied her thoughtfully for a moment, his eyes bathing her in admiration. “Isabel, do you feel confident about giving up Paris?”
“Marcus Hawksley, you
are
a fool.” Rising on her knees, she reached for the top button of his shirt. “Who needs Paris when I have the perfect male model before me begging to be painted?”
He laughed and caught her roaming hands in his. “Be certain, my temptress. Once you commit to me, I shall never let you go.”
She shot him a saucy look. “Certain about not going to Paris or about painting you?”
“Both.”
“Auntie Lil will survive without me. Perhaps we can visit her one day. As for you,” she drawled as she unbuttoned more of his shirt, “it will take me years of practice to capture you just right.”
Thomas Gainsborough was a British painter who was born in 1727 in the village of Sudbury, in Suffolk County. He was known as a portrait painter, and during the height of his career, he was commissioned by important politicians, nobility, and royalty alike to paint their portraits. One of his most famous is
The Blue Boy.
Even though he was renowned for his portraits, Gainsborough’s true love was to paint landscapes of simple country life and of the peasants who lived on the land. In 1781, he exhibited a set of coastal scenes. One of those paintings was the
Seashore with Fishermen
, also known as the
Seashore with Fisherman and Boat Setting Out
, which is mentioned in this book. Of course, the painting was never stolen, and I used literary license when I wove the theft of the painting into my book. Gainsborough died in 1788 in London of cancer.
I have also mentioned other famous artists and their works, all of whom I greatly admire and have included in my story. I hope you enjoy reading my book as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2010 by Tina Sickler
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-2008-0