Chaste Kiss (16 page)

Dropping her arm, she spread her hand against her breast dramatically. “Me? Scheming? Why, Miss Cummings, whatever do you mean?"

Debi tossed her head back and laughed, her many bracelets jingling with the movement. “Lord, how I've missed you. Now, tell me what's on your devious little mind."

Smiling, Isabel explained her plans for her shop in great detail and finished by offering her childhood friend a job. Debi was stunned at first with all her plans and news, but readily agreed.

After getting their perspective itineraries straight, Debi left by a side door and Isabel hurried back to the car. Debi's presence in Brantley was a good omen, bringing the best parts of her life full circle. Debi and William were her only true friends while she stayed with her uncle, and now they were once again a part of her life. She could barely contain her joy.

Isabel remembered fondly the day she and Debi first met. Her uncle had hired her friend's father to design and construct the lower gardens at Derrington Manor. Lucky for Isabel, he brought his daughter along one day when he couldn't find a babysitter. From that moment on, the two of them ran wild across the estate.

She giggled softly as she stepped through the revolving door. The mischief they got into nearly drove her uncle and Debi's father crazy, but they always took the blame together. Through letters and occasional visits, they'd remained true friends over the years.

Once outside, Isabel's eyes fell on William sitting in the car, his head snapping left and right watching everything and everyone. She smiled at his obvious joy in being free of the manor. She only hoped no one would sneak up on him and touch him, but he promised to disappear at the first sign of trouble.

Oh, yeah, like that wouldn't create a panic.

Pushing aside her worries for his safety, it was time to move on to the rest of her errands. Climbing back into the car with her business license in hand, something tickled the back of her neck. Her elated mood at running into her childhood friend sagged. Warily, she scanned the people on the sidewalk and the cars parked along the street.

"What is it? You look distressed by something,” William said.

Shaking her head, she continued to carefully examine the street. “It's probably nothing."

"Nay, ‘tis something. Tell me."

"I just have a creepy feeling. Like someone's watching me.” Isabel gave her head a quick shake and looked back at William. “Forget it. I've been hiding out for so long, I've just got the jitters. That's all."

She started the car and pulled away from the curb. Even though what she said made perfect sense, she couldn't shake the prickly feeling at the back of her neck.

God, had he found her after all this time?

Quickly making the next few stops, she hurried to the library. The sooner they got back to Derrington Manor the better. “Here we are. Brantley College Library. Are you up on how a library works?"

"Aye, I am up on it, as you say.” William carefully handed her the dagger.

She shoved it into the bottom of her shoulder bag and hopped out of the car. They walked inside and quickly found a secluded spot where they wouldn't be disturbed.

Isabel had a list of certain books she was looking for and started pulling them from the shelves. William sat at their table and began to scan the texts as she laid them before him for any reference to his family and friends. When she came back with the second stack, he wasn't alone.

"I'd be more than happy to help,” a tall slender blonde said, as she leaned over the table. Her scoop neck t-shirt gave William a perfect view of what she had to offer.

Pure silicon.

Isabel dropped the books on the table with a loud thwack. “We have everything under control. Thanks anyway,” she said with a sneer.

The woman eyed her up and down then looked at William. “I'll be right over there, if you need me,” she purred.

William smiled at the woman. “Thanks, I'll remember that."

She slowly slinked away, moving more parts than necessary to make it across the room.

Isabel muttered a curse under her breath. “I thought we were here to work."

He grinned and took a quick glance at the woman walking away. “Aye, sweeting. We are working."

"Don't strain anything.” She huffed and went back to the bookshelves.

William chuckled as he returned to study the texts. He rather enjoyed her jealousy. When riled, her eyes sparkled as brightly as the North Star. He wondered what else would bring about such an intriguing green fire.

As the stack grew, they managed to find a few more descendants before losing the trail in Regency England. Disappointed but not discouraged, they continued their search. William neglected to mention his other findings.

Mistress Morecott, the maid he had spoiled, did manage to wed, albeit to one whose rank was somewhat lower than her own. She had mothered a small brood and apparently lived a long life. William wondered if it was a happy one.

The other bit of information he was not quite certain how to digest. Lady Morecott, the old woman who had cursed his soul, vanished within a year of his death. He wondered if his brother had anything to do with her disappearance or if it was simply a coincidence. Whatever had befallen the old witch, he could not help but wish her ill. And yet, he would not have his sweet Isabel if the old hag had not cast her spell. ‘Twas an interesting twist of fate, or simply fate in itself.

"I thought that was you, Isabel,” a voice said from the shadows.

With a quick glance around to be certain no one observed him, William made himself invisible. He did not wish to be seen by Detective Wise.

"Uh, Mick. Hello.” Isabel looked around nervously.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.” He came around the bookcase. “Doing a little reading?"

"Oh, I'm helping a friend with some research."

Silently William walked to the opposite side of the shelf and listened to their conversation. He felt somewhat guilty for eavesdropping, but rationalized that his presence was for her protection, and he simply did not like the detective. He was not right for his sweeting.

The man cocked his head to read the title of the book in Isabel's hand. “English History.” He chuckled lightly. “Pretty stale stuff."

Now William was certain he did not like the detective.

"I'm doing some genealogy research for a friend. I actually find it very interesting,” Isabel said.

William smiled.

"To each his own, I guess. I was actually coming out to Derrington Manor this afternoon to see you."

"Do you have any news?"

Although she tried to hide her fear, the faint quiver in her voice told William she had been more worried about the stalker than she disclosed. He clearly remembered her uneasiness in front of City Hall. If only he could take her away and keep her safe.

"No, there's been no news,” the Detective said. “I was coming out for personal reasons. I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner."

William
accidentally
knocked a book from the shelf onto the man's foot.

"Ouch!” Detective Wise danced back and forth in an interesting two-step. William had to suppress a chortle.

Isabel bent over and retrieved the tome, needing both her hands to lift it. “Sorry. I guess I knocked it off the shelf."

"No problem. I'll live,” Mick grumbled. “So, what do you say? Would you have—umph!” The man tumbled over a step stool and landed squarely on his backside.

"Mick, are you all right?” Isabel quickly helped him up.

"Yeah, I guess I should watch what I'm doing. I could have sworn—did you feel a cold blast of air?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Listen, I'll see you later, Isabel. I really need to get back to work."

Sidestepping away from her, casting suspicious glances toward her and the bookcases, Mick bumped into the comely woman who had offered to help William with his research. The two ended up in an interesting pile on the floor without any help from the invisible menace hiding amid the shadows. It served the knave right. The man should have been watching where he was going instead of propositioning his sweet Isabel.

The detective quickly helped the woman to her feet, offered her his apologies, and jogged out of the library. William caught sight of Isabel's scowl and quickly swallowed his mirth. Stepping back behind the shelves, he became visible once again.

"It's time to go home,” she said curtly.

"As you wish.” Although he spoke calmly, his throat constricted mightily with the need to laugh, but she did not seem to be amused. William thought it best not to press his good fortune.

Nearing the manor, she unleashed her fiery temper. “Do you mind telling me what that was all about back there?"

He thought it best to play innocent for a time and try to determine how angry she was with his interference. “The woman in the library approached me with her offer."

She growled. “I wasn't talking about her and you know it. Why did you find it necessary to act like such a—such a—bloody ass to Mick?"

His temper flared. “I have told you before, Isabel, ladies do not use such words."

"Words! I'll use whatever damn words I please. You're just dodging my question!"

"I am not dodging your question!"

She brought the car to a stop in front of the house with a jerk. “Like hell you're not.” She climbed out of the car, popped open the trunk, and grappled with the large stack of books she'd checked out of the library.

William leapt over the edge and stood beside her in less than two strides. “I did nothing of any great import to your beloved detective. The only thing harmed was his bloody pride!"

Grumbling, she reached up to close the trunk, dropping several books on the ground. With a curse she slammed the lid closed. “You still haven't explained why you did it!” She spun on her heels, not waiting for a reply, and headed for the house.

Still in solid form, he bent down and quickly gathered up the books she dropped and followed her. “I do not have to explain my actions to you or anyone else."

Isabel stormed into the library and dumped the books on the coffee table in the center of the room.

"Why do I even bother?” she asked, casting her gaze to the ceiling.

William dropped the remaining books on the table and loomed over her, their noses nearly touching as they faced off against one another. “If you like the churl so much, then why did you not accept his offer?"

She propped her fists on her hips, glaring at him. “As if I had a chance."

"I was only having a bit of sport with the man."

"Sport! Sport! You touched him. He felt you."

"And what of it?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and heaved a heavy sigh. “Then you can touch me."

If blood flowed through his veins it would have surely fled from his head. His anger dispelled, he took a cautious step back.

God's teeth! What had he done? Now he must prepare for a strenuous battle. One he was not sure he wanted to win.

"Nay, I cannot."

"But—"

"If I touched you, Isabel, I would be sorely tempted to feel you. You heard the detective mention the sudden coldness. It comes from me. It would not be pleasant for you."

Her chin tiled up as she fisted her hands against her hips. “I think I should be the judge of that."

And so it begins, he thought, and his sanity would depend upon his success. He should never have stolen the kiss in her sleep. Not only did he fight Isabel and her determination for his touch, he battled his own desires. To touch her again would be sheer torment for both of them.

"Nay, I will not do it!"

"You are the most stubborn, bull headed—"

"I didn't know we had company,” Jerome said, as he entered the library.

William and Isabel snapped their heads to the doorway then back to one another, exchanging panic-stricken looks.

"Uh, Uncle Jerome. I didn't hear you come in. I, uh..."

Jerome glanced at William. “Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Isabel?"

Chapter Ten

Jerome approached William, carefully taking his measure of him.

"Oh, yes. Jerome Derrington, Lord William Ashenhurst.” Isabel grimaced. She probably shouldn't have introduced him using his full title. How was she going to explain knowing an English lord?

Jerome extended his hand. The blood rushed from Isabel's face and pooled in her feet.

William placed his hands behind his back and bowed his head. “A pleasure to meet you, sir."

Her uncle seemed confused about the lack of a handshake, and she realized then, what she had to do. What better way to win her argument than to keep him around all the time and work on him? It was risky, but she knew they could work around it.

He could touch her if he wanted, and she most definitely wanted. Not to mention it would give William a chance to be almost human.

"Uncle Jerome,” she said as she took his hand. “Can I speak with you a minute? Excuse us, William.” She practically dragged her uncle out into the hall.

"About William,” she said once they were a decent distance away.

"
Lord
William?"

Her uncle obviously didn't approve of him since he hadn't accepted his hand, but the title had made an impact. She decided to take that little tidbit and run with it.

"Yes, a real live lord.” She nearly choked on the words. If he only knew. “And he's a little eccentric, you see. He didn't shake your hand because he doesn't allow anyone to touch him. He's been a recluse for some time. The fact he's here at all is a miracle.” A fact she tried to understand every day since he popped into her life.

"And why is he here?"

"Oh, well, he came to see me. We met while I was an exchange student. I was wondering if he could stay with us for a while.” She gave her uncle a hopeful smile.

"I don't recall you ever mentioning him."

"Well, as a matter of fact, I mentioned him just yesterday. He's the friend I'm helping with the genealogy research. So, what do you say? Can he stay?"

"Well, I don't know."

"He's an authority on the Renaissance.” She smiled sweetly. “I bet the two of you could have some very enlightening discussions. As a matter of fact, he could probably give one of your professors a run for his money. As long as you never touch him,” she added quickly.