Hecouldn’t. That damn letter.
A knock on the door made her jerk.
He held her tighter, scowling at the door. “Go away, Poppins.”
Another knock, then the door creaked open.
And Aunt Lavinia stepped inside. She froze, staring at them, her eyes blinking so fast she likely created enough wind to send a ship sailing.
Hell. Poor timing. He’d meant to put Aunt Lavinia off until he had Isabella’s full name. No waiting now. He stood, helping Isabella to her feet as well, steadying her when she seemed off-balance enough to topple right over.
“Good morning, Aunt,” he said. “I'd like you to meet Isabella, the woman I wrote you about.”
Lavinia stopped blinking, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, I know Isabella.”
“Mrs. Garrison,” Isabella croaked out. She glanced at Rowan. “Did I hear you say she's your… aunt?” She looked back to Aunt Lavinia, every movement a hesitation. “But… you only have one son, whom you… a… dop… ted.” She said the final word drawn out, her gaze swinging slowly back to Rowan. Both hands jumped up to cover her mouth, and she dropped into the chair behind her.
“Do you know one another?” Rowan asked. How? Lavinia ran in the highest social circles. She was the daughter of an earl and the wife of a marquess’s youngest son, who just happened to make a hero ofhimself at sea. The light began to hurt Rowan’s eyes, and he backed away from Isabella and into the shadows behind his desk.
“Yes,” Aunt Lavinia said. “I have known Isabella since her birth.”
“How in hell could that be?” he barked.
Isabella clung to the chair arm. “I don’t know your son’s name. You never introduced him. But I am sure you’ve spoken of him. Richard? Colin?”
“Rowan.” Aunt Lavinia conquered the space between the door and the desk chair to tower above Isabella, above even Rowan, though she stood shorter than him. “He does not like to socialize with the peerage. Has always avoided it at all costs. He insists on shutting himself up in this hotel and lurking about in the darkness instead of meeting with any of the perfectly acceptable young ladies I’ve befriended for him. All of which, you can understand, leaves me considerably confused. Rowan.” His name a bark, a condemnation. “What are you doing alone with Lady Isabella Merriweather in your lap?”
A wave of water, grave cold and salty as tears, doused him through and through. God, he was going to drop to his knees like a ship was tossing beneath him. “L-lady?”
A rustle of skirts, then Isabella was peering up at him, her face pale and pinched. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rowan Trent.”
“Lady?” He sounded like a damn parrot. “Who is your father? No. Your brother. Who is he?” He knew already her father was dead.
“The Duke of Clearford,” Aunt Lavinia said, “a man you’ve gone out of your way to avoid time and time again. And though I understand why, what with your history and all, it does seem rather cowardly, especially since I just found youalonewith his sister on yourlap.”
A duke. A bloodyduke.
“Didn't you know?” Aunt Lavinia screeched.
“I've never heard her make a sound like that,” Isabella said.
“A duke?” The only word Rowan seemed capable of producing.
“I demand an explanation.” Against the laws of the natural world, Aunt Lavinia’s voice rose higher. “How long have the two of you been…” Her face seemed an explosion of reds. “Cavorting! How long have you been cavorting?”
“Only since last night, truly,” Isabella said.
Right as Rowan said, “We’re notcavortingat all.”
Isabella glared at him. “We’ve been… partners for several weeks now. We’re helping each other.”
Rowan glared right back. “I caught her stealing gossip from my guests. Why would you tell her about the cavor—” Hell, he wasn’t saying that word again. Not in front of Aunt Lavinia. “About last night?”
“I’ve known your aunt, your mother—” She broke off with a huff. “Why is this so deuced complicated? I’ve known Mrs. Garrison as long as I’ve been alive, and to know her is to do as she says.”
She did know Aunt Lavinia, then. “Let me put a new rule before you, Lady Isabella. You do not speak with her about our—” Bloody hell! “Our anything!”
“There is anour, though?” she asked. “It’s difficult to tell at the moment since you’re hiding behind this chair and appearing rather terrified.”
