Not surprising, she thought. He could hardly deny it. “I’ve always thought that the kind of person who expects someone to take a bribe, or entrap another person, is the kind of person who will accept a bribe or lay a trap themselves.”
His jaw tightened.
She wasn’t trying to punish him, just make him understand. “It’s not very flattering, is it, your opinion of me?” He’d kissed her as if she were a dream come to life. And she’d kissed him back with everything in her. She couldn’t shake that off easily.
And then he’d decided she was a contemptible schemer.
She wasn’t going to risk that again.
“So while I suppose I can forgive you, I don’t think I would be able to forget it, and really, isn’t it part of the forgiveness process to put the insult behind one?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure I can.”
It wasn’t only that she didn’t think she could trust him again, it was that this episode had shown her that she couldn’t trust herself. Clarissa feared she’d be too susceptible to charming but unworthy men and was relying onIzzy to protect her from making a huge mistake—but look at how easily Izzy had fallen into Lord Salcott’s arms.
On the basis of a little flirting and some kisses—that admittedly had been magical—she’d been on the verge of opening her heart to him.
She was just as vulnerable as Clarissa—maybe even more so—and wasn’t that a shock? She’d always considered herself a good judge of character, even a bit of a cynic when it came to men—and yet...
He stood abruptly, and she blinked, half expecting him to yell or storm furiously out. Instead he said, “Will you wait here a moment? Please? There is something I need to show you.”
She hesitated, then nodded, and he was gone.
He returned in a few minutes with a folded paper and a brown-paper bundle tied with string. He placed the parcel on the seat next to him and held up the paper. “This letter was my initial introduction to you. Before we had even met. To my shame, I fear I allowed it to influence me unduly.” He passed her the letter.
Bemused, and more than a little curious, Izzy unfolded it. She read, and as she read, bile rose in her throat. Her father, her thrice-damned father. Even from the grave...
She read it though twice—not that she needed to; the vicious phrases had burned into her memory. But it gave her time to gather her thoughts and work out what she wanted to say to Lord Salcott.
One sentence stood out as particularly offensive and vindictive:Isobel has shown every sign of being as immoral and manipulative as her whore of a mother.
How dare Sir Bartleby describe her mother so.
She wanted to rip the letter up and hurl the pieces into the fireplace. Instead, without a word, she refolded it carefully and handed it back to Lord Salcott. Her hands were shaking. He noticed it, too.
There was a long silence.
“So,” she said finally, “you believed what he said.”
His shoulders rose infinitesimally. “At the time I had no reason to doubt it.” She didn’t respond and he added, “I had nothing else to go on. It was a deathbed request. And hewasyour father.”
Izzy wanted to spit. “He was no kind of a father, not to me, not even to Clarissa. He was a selfish, spiteful, conscienceless, self-indulgent, heartless pig. As for what he said about my mother, it’s utterly false, a complete calumny of a wonderful woman.”
He raised a brow, but said nothing.
It annoyed her. “What? What does that look mean?”
“I visited the village in which you spent your childhood years.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Spying, were you?”
“Endeavoring to discover the truth,” he said stiffly.
“Whose truth? My father’s? Yours?” Her lip curled scornfully. “Or were you looking for more reasons to despise me?”
***
Leo had to admit there was some justice to her accusations, although reasons to despise her had been the very last thing on his mind. He had no desire to despise her at all. But he’d wanted toknow. Needed to know.
And what he’d learned was that Isobel’s mother was hardly “a wonderful woman.” She might not have been a whore who sold her body on street corners, or slept with a variety of men, but she had effectively sold herself to the local squire. And not just once, but repeatedly over a number of years. And even though he had to admit she had her reasons, it still... bothered him.
