Chapter 6

Isabelle listened to the house leave, the sound of women babbling as they packed and exited into waiting carriages.

Impending dread filled her. The house was clearing out because the danger was imminent. A danger she would not escape. No one had come to take her anywhere. She was the bait.

At least all of this agony would be over soon. She'd be back with Makem, dead, or set free very soon and that thought calmed her racing heart.

She watched the carriages pull away, disappearing into the growing darkness, the silence of the house that much more ominous after the bustle of everyone leaving.

For the most part, she'd made her peace with the latter two options. Death held a certain peace and if she found herself alone without a husband or family, perhaps she could make a new life for herself. Returning to Makem however…

She thought back to Mabel's warning, the woman who had escorted Isabelle to her room. Had that been last night? It felt like ages ago… But the woman's words echoed in her head. Whatever you do, don't scream. He likes it.

Isabelle had been given a reprieve. And having escaped Makem's clutches, she didn't think she could go through with consummating the marriage.

Shivering, she turned toward the windows that faced the back alley and watched three carriages fill with the women who worked here.

She could almost sense the difference between these women and the ones she'd met at Makem's establishment.

These ladies were relaxed, they chattered amicably. No hostility, no guarded worry. It made her relax a bit as well. To her surprise, she'd lost her fear of her captor.

Which Bode Armstrong still was. As long as he wouldn't allow her to leave, she was a prisoner even if she did trust him not to physically harm her.

Footsteps sounded on the steps, and Mama Rose appeared with a tray of food. "Are you staying here?" Isabelle asked the older woman, doubt lacing her voice.

The other woman shook her head. "No. I'm leaving with Duke, but I thought I'd deliver a decent meal to you first, since the food from here on out…" Mama Rose wrinkled her nose. "Bode has some good qualities but cooking isn't one of them."

Isabelle suppressed a smile. "You know him well enough to know that?"

"I know him better than anyone in the world. Practically raised the boy." Mama Rose set the tray down. "Circumstances aside, he's a good man, I can promise you that."

Isabelle shook her head. Part of her wanted to believe those words, her fate was in his hands. "He sells women."

Mama Rose snorted. "So did I. Doesn't make us bad. The ladies here choose to be here, leave when they wish, and make good lives for themselves with the money they make. Bode and Duke have always seen to that. Duke, the house he's moved the other girls to, it was built to be a refuge for women of unfortunate circumstances, teach them a trade so they don't end up in whorehouses."

Isabelle stilled. Was that really true? It was so wonderful, her breath caught. "And Bode?"

"He's working his way to becoming a pillar of the community. He's got a few more demons to slay than Duke, though."

"What are his demons?" She shouldn't ask. It wasn't her business but even if it were… Bode was a man who meant to use her, maybe even toss her away. Still, her curiosity was piqued. She sensed a goodness in him, an honorable nature that neither her father nor her husband shared.

Mama Rose stepped closer. "Those scars on his face. Given to him by his father when he tried to keep the man from killing his mother."

Isabelle gasped, the wretchedness of it, turning her stomach. "That's horrible."

Mama Rose dropped her voice. "I'm telling you this because Bode is a man who keeps the women close to him safe. It's his nature. I don't care what he thinks his plan is, the moment you're in trouble, he'll go to hell and back to protect you, Isabelle."

Her heart began to pound but this wasn't fear. Would he really protect her? "Why does he want Makem so badly?"

"For the same reason I just told you. Makem injured two of the women here. Bode is currently doing everything and anything in his power to keep that from happening again. It's an old wound for him, the women who are his to protect being injured."

Isabelle swallowed down the bile that had risen in her throat. "Makem is truly awful."

"Yes, he is. You tell Bode why you're scared. And why you need his protection. I know my boy. I tended those wounds on his face myself, the ones his father gave him. I held him when he cried for being abandoned. Soothed his nightmares. He'll keep you safe, Isabelle. It won't even take much." Then she nodded.

"What if…" She licked her lips, her hands tightly gripped together. "What if he can't defeat Makem? What if he gets hurt?"

Mama Rose softened. "He took on this war himself. He knows the risks." And then she winked. "Besides, I know my boy. I'd like to see the man who could best him. You, however, didn't ask for any of this."

Isabelle shook her head. This woman didn't know her. Why would she protect Isabelle over Bode? "What you're saying is very kind, but I'm the one who married Makem."

Mama Rose touched her shoulder. "Duke said that you wrote a farewell letter. That you married Makem to save your sisters. That's something everyone in this house respects. We're all saving someone. Which is why, if you think my Bode might lose, you convince him to flee and take him with you. He'd be a good protector, Isabelle, for as long as you require."

Isabelle drew in a ragged breath before she unclenched her hands to reach for Mama Rose's grizzled hand. This appeal wasn't just for Isabelle's sake, it was for Bode's too. And that loosened Isabelle's shoulders. A warm current of hope rolled through her. This was information she could trust. "Thank you for the explanation and the advice. It's much appreciated."

Mama Rose nodded back. "Take good care of him, will you?"

"I will," she answered, swallowing down a lump of emotion. "And I'll do my best to return him to you."

Mama Rose gave her a small smile. "Thank you. And take care. I'm glad to have met you and I'm putting my faith in you. I recognize honest good and honest strength when I see it."

"Thank you." Isabelle nodded, her thoughts much clearer than they'd been before. It was helpful to have a plan and one was most certainly forming in her mind.

But she'd need her strength. Turning, she sat next to Mama Rose's plate. It was time to eat and fortify her body for the evening that was about to come.

* * *

Night fell, the tension that filled Bode was coiling tight enough to make him snap. Lockton returned to the house along with several other men, all there to help Bode capture Makem.

And keep Isabelle safe.

He knew that ought not to be a goal, he'd not intended to protect his enemy's wife, but Duke had been right. If Isabelle died at Makem's hand, Bode wasn't certain he could forgive himself. He knew he wouldn't.

Darkness settled over the house, and after pacing for close to an hour, he went up to her room to see how his charge fared. He couldn't bring himself to call her a prisoner.

She'd agreed to stay after all, hadn't she?

He knocked on the door before he made his way up the stairs, and he found her perched by the window overlooking the alley.

"Isabelle?"

"You needn't knock."

He stopped in the middle of the room. "I beg your pardon?"

"Why bother with the pretense? We both know I'm completely at your convenience."

A muscle in his jaw ticced. She wasn't wrong, which made Bode shift uncomfortably. Despite the business he was in, he'd prided himself on making women's lives better. Always.

That was why he'd continued the work. The women who came through these doors left with real jobs, husbands, and futures they would not have had otherwise.

"You are here because it is mutually beneficial to both of us."

She still looked out the window, trailing her fingers along the glass as she stared out into the darkness. "You really believe that?"

"I do." He didn't have to pretend his commitment. Duke's comment had penetrated deep. And something about Isabelle... She'd pinned her hair back in a simple style at the nape, only highlighting her fragile beauty as she turned her profile toward him.

"Forgive me, but I do not think waiting here, as the bait in a trap, is in my best interest. I…" She stopped, her voice trembling and Bode cursed under his breath. She had a point.

But she'd never be safe, and neither would his girls if he didn't end this war with Makem. "He needs to be stopped."

She nodded absently. "He does."

"Tell me again how you ended up married to him?"

"My father struck the deal." She shook her head. "The debtors were calling daily, and he needed a way out. My sisters can't marry without dowries, not to men of worth, so the debts had to be cleared."

Inwardly, he grimaced. He was not what she might consider a man of worth. Of that he was certain. "So they used you as the sacrificial lamb."

"I've tried to be truly angry at him but…" She nipped at her lip. "Everyone in my family knows that I'm terribly practical and that I'd do anything for my sisters. The choice was obvious even to me."

Her words irritated Bode. He'd seen this in her. Isabelle's willingness to sacrifice herself for the greater good. For the benefit of her family or to aid in Bode's war.

For some reason, it bothered him that she'd do so. Who protected her? Who made sure she wasn't just tossed aside or trampled?

And that was the moment that Bode knew…he couldn't do this.

No matter how much he wanted Makem, he couldn't risk Isabelle's safety and welfare to catch the other man.

The truth hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Looking at the delicate beauty before him, the idea of Makem touching her, and hurting her made his insides hectic.

He swiped a hand down his face. "Are either of your parents gifted with the same grace?" He had some sliver of hope that he could return her to the earl's home, and she'd be safe.

"My father more so than my mother, who only seems to care about the color of the drapes and the quality of the rugs. But then he went and…" She sighed. "I've thought about it a hundred times. It was his only play. The properties he retains are entailed, the lands not producing enough to compensate for the debts they'd accumulated collectively. If only one of them had been a spender…"

Bode's brows drew together. "How much of your father's affairs are you involved in?"

Isabelle shrugged. "Enough to know that there was little my father could do to avoid prison."

Bode cocked his head to the side, considering her words. Still, the idea rankled. Why would her father give her to a man like Makem?

It was a question he could consider later. For right now, it was time to make certain that Isabelle remained safe. Questions about her father, and plans to end Makem, could wait.

"I'll be back in just a moment. I need to speak with Lockton."

"Lockton?"

"A Scot with a particular talent for filling men with lead. He'll have to fight alone?—"

Isabelle pushed up from the chair, spinning toward him with a gasp. "Alone?"

He couldn't believe he was about to say this. "We're leaving the city."

"Do you really mean that?" Lifting her skirts, she crossed the room moving toward him. She was tall for a woman, but he still stood a full head taller than her. He resisted the urge to wrap an arm about her waist, and pull her close. He'd only touched her when she likely had no memory…

"I can see that you're the kind of woman who will sacrifice herself, but I've no stomach for it. I?—"

But his words were cut off as she threw herself into his arms.