Chapter 5

HOPE FLOATED IN A bubble all the way back to her room. It was large, soft, and transparent. Almost a place where she could be alone with her thoughts, if she had any. Her mind was in a fog, and her eyes weren't seeing what was right in front of her. It was her room that she entered. That she was sure of, for the voice of her lady's maid anchored her into the present.

"My lady, are you all right?"

"Hmmm? Oh yes…I'm…"

Marlene studied her expectantly. Waiting. Something was hanging in the air, but Hope (for the life of her) couldn't figure out what it was. How had she landed in Isaac's room to clean up? It was all a blur. A very coincidental blur…perhaps too coincidental. It was a tail of a thought, but something about her mother trickled through her mind. She couldn't be that good of a meddler, could she? Or rather, that naughty of one? But then the tail of the thought was gone. In and out of her bubble like a flash.

Her eyes unblurred, and she noticed a letter hanging from Marlene's fingers.

"Is that for me?"

"Yes, it just came for you."

Taking the note, she said, "Thank you, Marlene." The words were spoken kindly but with the intention to dismiss her. She didn't need an audience for reading her mail.

"What about your dress, my lady?"

Absent-mindedly, Hope waved her off. "It'll be fine. Thank you." Had she already said that? The bubble was still engulfing her. It was hard to concentrate. So she just stood there, in the middle of the room, limply holding the letter, chasing runaway thoughts about an ethereal kiss.

Assertively, Marlene undressed Hope and slipped on a new frock. All in silence. Hope clung to the letter. She knew what it was, so she wasn't about to put it down.

Marlene extended a bottle of perfume and Hope dabbed her fingers on it, mindlessly tapping behind her ears.

Any coherent thoughts on the kiss were evasive, so Hope permitted her eyes to be riveted to the missive in front of her. She didn't see the baffled look on Marlene's face as she turned to leave, having done her duty. The snick of the door closing caused Hope to look up and survey the empty room.

But the weight of the letter in her hand grew heavier. There was nothing on the front of it except her name. She opened it and unfolded the note. Knowing. Dreading.

Shock fired through her, despite her prediction being correct.

Another threat.

She hadn't received one in a while, so it must have slipped past the servants. She couldn't expect every servant to be on high alert at all times. It was the same old threat that she had read countless times before. She was certain it came from one of the factory owners from which one of her brothers had rescued exploited children. She knew the children were safe in the orphanage her family secretly managed. She admired her brothers for their courage and compassion, and if she had to be the recipient of a few threatening letters once in a while, she would be strong enough to ignore them.

That had always been her response in the past.

So it was distinctly peculiar that her current reaction involved tears. Rivulets formed two paths down her cheeks. How odd that she would cry over this letter, the same as every one before it.

Perhaps it was because none of her brothers were around to offer their protection, though she knew they hadn't left her vulnerable to attack. She had noticed the surplus of burly footmen since their departure. It seemed a bit excessive in her opinion, but she wouldn't argue with them.

Perhaps she was overwrought with emotion from the kiss with Isaac. She touched two fingers to her lips and drew her other hand over the place on her neck where he had bit her. That was a strange thought…the man wasn't a vampire. But that gesture…when he had sunk his teeth in her…it had felt like he put a stake into her, slaying her. Claiming her. Isaac has been here. Her fingers made slow circles over the spot he had nibbled.

One hand trailed down her bodice. Isaac had been here, too…

A throat cleared.

Isaac was here. Right now. In her room. Stunned, she sat immoveable, staring blankly at the note.

"We need to talk," came his silky baritone voice.

Her instincts were numb, and she couldn't look at him. Much less talk to him.

Talk? What would that do? Nothing. Words would not dispel the layers of fog growing around her. Besides, talking required thoughts, and she didn't have enough of those at the moment.

"Hope? Look at me."

Slowly she turned, granting him more access to her profile.

"What's that? Are you all right?" He rushed to her side. He was enveloped inside the bubble with her. "Hope, speak to me." His thumb was at her cheek wiping a tear.

But she didn't want that from him. She didn't want him comforting her. Not after what he had just done to her. Her body was confused. Wanting him. Aching for his touch, again. But her mind was railing against her. The man was a rake. A notorious, blonde-trophy-collecting rake.

She swatted his hand and wiped at the evidence of her own silly sobs, forgetting that she had perfume stained on her fingers. The potent fragrance was now in her eyes, stinging, producing more tears. She dropped the note and began swiping at her face.

"Oh! It stings," she mumbled, feeling the veritable fool. Crying about the threat seemed unnecessary. Crying about the kiss was vexing. And now crying due to the pain in her eyes was absolutely foolish. It was all too much. So then she cried because she was crying. And that's when the hiccups started.

Isaac must have found the towel and pitcher of water Marlene had brought to her, for she felt a soft fabric against her face.

"Hope, it's all right. It was just one kiss. It doesn't have to mean anything."

Bird-witted, man. Of course, it meant something. She just had no clue what that was.

"I'll grow a beard so that you won't even have to look at my face for the rest of this house party. It'll be as if I'm not even here."

What an addle-pated fool. Despite her vexation, a chuckle bubbled up in angry amusement. As if a beard would change anything. But then she shuddered at the thought of him growing a beard. There was a chance it could do the trick. A slim chance. A risky chance. Maybe…

But he was still talking, "We should laugh about it. Have out with it. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

At the nonchalant phrase, she snapped. Pop, went the bubble. Something crackled inside of her.

"My pretty little head?"

"Uh…"

"My pretty little head, Isaac?"

"Umm…what I meant—"

"My pretty little head, really?" Her tone was rising with each word and each repeated phrase. "I'm not just some silly, pretty bauble or trophy. Is that what you think of me? Is that what you think this is about?" She scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself." She let her eyes run the length of his body, hunched over her as it was. "I'm crying because, like an absolute idiot, I doused my eyes with the perfume that was on my fingers."

"Oh." He stood. "Well, um…in that case. Has the stinging subsided?"

"Yes. I'm fine. You may go."

And she thought he might have left then, but he must have seen something in her eyes. Or more accurately, on her desk.

"What's this?" He picked up the note. It only took a second to read, so before she could yank it out of his hands, she witnessed his eyes widen. "Hope. What is this?"

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. It's a threat."

"I've had plenty of them. It's nothing. Really." She tried to snatch it from his hands.

"I told them not to all leave you at one time," he muttered, shaking his head. She watched him take a chunk of his hair and grip it. She wondered what it would feel like if he did that to her.

"I told them," he mumbled again. This time his fist slammed down on her desk, startling her.

"It's fine, Isaac." She stood and rested a placating hand on his chest. Oh…that chest. The one with the tickling hairs. The one she had…never mind. She stuttered over her next words, but didn't remove her hand from his warmth. "J-just let it go."

He took a step closer to her, and his hands were cupping her jaw. With an intense stare, his eyes drilled into her, burrowing closer and closer to her hammering heart. She thought he might kiss her again.

How would she feel about that? Her heart hammered out a reply but she couldn't interpret it. Was it fear? Trepidation? Yearning?

It didn't matter. He pulled away.

"I'll keep you safe." His eyes were stone. His words a sword. It was a vow unlike she had ever heard before. Who was this man? And what was his motive? Did he think one kiss changed everything between them? It hadn't. She wouldn't let it. Or was he just acting as her friend? As he had always been. Up until now she had only really seen the light, playful side of him. The reckless side. But this…was entirely different. A profound intensity. Depth.

"Have no doubt, you will remain unharmed. No matter the cost."