Forbidden in February by Suzanna Medeiros

met his, she didn’t look away. “Your mother was very kind to me. And no, I’m not referring to the money she left me. She allowed me to remain in service here when many others would have turned me out.”
    He didn’t know what he’d expected her to say, but he wouldn’t have guessed she was about to confess some secret to him. His thoughts went immediately to his mother’s letters. She’d mentioned Isabel a few times, but rarely as her companion. Instead, she’d dangled Isabel beneath his nose as an inducement for him to return to London. He’d assumed that, like his mother, she was a woman who was looking for a protector, but her reaction to his proposition had led him to believe otherwise. Was it possible he’d been correct in his original assessment?
    No, he thought. The woman before him now was no light-skirt. He would stake his life on that.
    “What did my mother overlook?”
    There was no mistaking her embarrassment when her chin dipped and heat colored her cheeks.
    “My cousin sent Mrs. Milton a letter telling her that I wasn’t a person of good character.” His eyes widened in surprise, and she rushed on, her words stumbling over each other in her rush to reassure him. “He wasn’t telling the truth. I don’t know what exactly was in that letter—your mother never said—but I can guess. I do know it was filled with lies.”
    “Lies that my mother didn’t believe.”
    Isabel’s eyes searched his, and he saw the moment she realized he believed her. Her shoulders relaxed and she took a deep, somewhat shaky breath. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to lower his eyes to her chest.
    “No, thankfully.”
    When she didn’t continue, he asked, “Any why are you telling me this now?”
    “Because I thought that was the end of my dealings with Bertram. I hoped he would move on with his life and forget about me, but he hasn’t. He wants me to return home and has threatened to tell any future employer whatever it was he told your mother.” Color drained from her face as another realization came to her. “What if he tells the agency? I’ll never get another interview, let alone another position, if he contacts them directly.”
    “Surely he’s only concerned about your welfare.”
    Isabel forced a laugh. “I assure you, my cousin cares about no one but himself.”
    “Still, wouldn’t you be safer at home?”
    The irony was not lost on him that they appeared to be two sides of the same coin. Both of them in service but with family who were determined to see them give up their independence and return home. From the way her brows rose in disbelief, she’d come to the same realization. She didn’t comment on it, however.
    “My cousin is determined to see me married to a man old enough to be my grandfather. One who, by all accounts, was cruel to his first wife when she was alive.”
    He knew that marriages were arranged all the time, but it never ceased to surprise him that families continued to make such alliances, essentially sacrificing their young women to a lifetime of unhappiness all for the sake of a better position in society. He’d seen it to an extent with the Duchess of Beckworth.
    “And he hopes to force your hand by ensuring you have no means by which to support yourself.”
    Isabel nodded, her shoulders sagging as she considered the truth of his words.
    He repeated his earlier question. “Why are you telling me this, Miss Durham?”
    He waited, expecting her to ask for money. And if she did, he’d give it to her. It was the least he could do after she’d sacrificed her own savings to look after this house and the other servants within without knowing if she’d ever see that money again. What he wasn’t expecting, however, were her next words.
    “Because I’d like you to ruin me.”
    She’d found her courage again, because her eyes never wavered from his as she waited for his response. Her request rendered him unable to speak as he registered the effect