Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Mason wanted her blue eyes to be fixed on him like that for a while longer, but in order to do so, he would need to anger her some more. He wasn't sure that was such a good idea. He still wanted to get to know her. If he angered her too much, she might never want to speak to him again.

He had to admire her tenacity. Most women might have accepted defeat and moved on. But miss Owen was a little like his mother. When she had an idea in her mind, there was no changing it.

" All right," he relented. " You can assist me on this. But you will be an assistant, and nothing more. That is my only offer."

" Wonderful," she answered. " You won ' t regret this. You have my word."

He already knew she would not be happy with only being an assistant. She was far too fiery for that. He hadn't meant to insult her when he ' d opposed her idea of investigating the case. The words had somewhat fallen out of his mouth without control.

Something in him had snapped at the idea of Miss Owen getting herself into any sort of danger.

" That settles it then," Miss Harper quickly said.

Miss Harper had tried to put an end to Miss Owen ' s confrontation. That much was clear to Mason. He felt a little sad for Miss Harper. But she had little to concern herself with. Mason didn't mind a strong-minded woman.

He had been raised by one. Only, most people outside of their home hadn't seen that side of his mother. And he loved his mother dearly.

Part of him wondered if Miss Owen would last longer than a day working with him. She had no idea just how dangerous things could become, and how much work lay ahead of them. She would help, in which case he would be grateful. Or she would pull out, and he ' d be free to work the case on his own.

He hoped she ' d stay just a small while, though. She intrigued him and he hoped to get to know her better.

Mason wondered what it was that made her tick. What were her aspirations and why? There was something about her, perhaps the deep blue of her eyes that seemed to travel deep within her, that made him feel that way. Or the way her dark hair contrasted with her pale skin. There was something different about her.

She handled herself differently. He ' d only known her a short time and already he knew that she hid a vast amount of knowledge behind her deep eyes. She ' d already taught him something important without even knowing it.

She ' d reminded him that he was missing something important in his life. While he ' d seen the world and done things most others hadn't, none of it had made him feel fulfilled. And while Mason had known something was missing for the longest time, he ' d never been able to put his finger on it. Until she came along.

" I look forward to it," Miss Owen said, bringing him back to the moment. " It seems like just the adventurous kind of pastime that I ' m after."

Mason smiled. " I hope so," he said. " It will be hard work."

" A criminal will be removed from our streets," Miss Owen said decisively. " That makes all of the work worth it."

" Hard to argue with that logic," Ethan commented with a chuckle.

The tense atmosphere of the balcony had been broken. They all followed Ethan ' s lead, and a light laugh broke out among them. Even Miss Harper felt more comfortable with the scenario and stepped a little further out onto the balcony with them.

The cold night air brushed over Mason ' s cheeks as he made his way to the railing. He could not keep his mind off the way in which Miss Owen had spoken her mind to him without a moment ' s worry.

" I suppose we'll be seeing much of each other in the coming weeks," Miss Owen said as she joined him at the railing.

Ethan and Miss Harper had taken up a space a few feet away as they looked out over the night sky. Mason glanced over at Miss Owen. Her eyes were fixated on the space ahead of them. It was a dark night, and little could be seen in the garden, but she didn't seem to mind staring into the darkness.

" I suppose we will," he answered. " Allow me to apologize in advance for potentially upsetting you again."

" I look forward to it." Miss Owen seemed to be softening toward him again.

He didn't mind it. She was pleasant to be around. He liked anybody who could leave him with something to think about. She certainly ticked that box.

" I hope it is what you want it to be," he said plainly. " There is pressure on us now to keep the duke alive. I hope you understand that."

" I understand it perfectly," she answered. " That's why I offered in the first place."

She continued to impress him. As the night closed in, everybody laughed a lot and kept warm at the fire. They were all becoming close friends, it seemed, and Mason was sure there would be many more dinners just like that one in all their futures.

For the first time ever, he considered hosting a dinner at his own family home, too. Normally, that thought would scare him, but he wanted to get to know them all, and he couldn't think of a better way to do it.

By the time they left that night, they had gone from strangers to partners.

***

Eliza pulled the pins from her hair in silence. Isabella was aware that she ' d spoken very little since they ' d made it home. Her mind was on everything but what she was supposed to say. She was working through the way she had felt when Mr. Alton had objected to her investigating the case.

She wanted to understand why she got so angry about it. Most of the time, she didn't let things bother her quite that much. Normally, she might have given it some time and then written him a letter. Why did she decide to follow him onto the balcony that night?

Isabella had always been a confident woman, but that seemed bold even for her. She had surprised herself, which didn't happen often.

" You ' re awfully quiet," Eliza commented, bringing her thoughts to life. " What ' s on your mind? Are you troubled?"

" I ' m thinking about Mr. Alton, to be honest," Isabella confessed.

" He upset you, didn't he?" Eliza asked. " He ' s agreed to let you assist. Surely you are not still fuming about that?"

" No," Isabella answered. " I want to know more about him. There ' s so much that he had to tell, and I find myself wanting to listen."

Eliza let out a soft sigh. " Be careful, miss," she said. " It ' s precisely because he has so much to tell that he can ' t be trusted."

Isabella knew Eliza would be wary of him. She was leery of all new people in their lives. She trusted nobody, and most people had to work hard to impress her. That was why Isabella was surprised to see her getting along so well with Mr. Langley.

" I don ' t think I agree with you," Isabella said. " He has done nothing to make himself untrustworthy."

" I've met well-traveled people, miss," Eliza argued. " They go out there and learn from cultures other than our own. Then they come back here and want to behave in the way those cultures do. It never works."

" Not everyone who has done the same things is the same." Isabella laughed.

Eliza let out another quiet sigh. She didn't understand that the thing that made her so hesitant about Mr. Alton was the very same thing that drew Isabella to him. She wanted to learn about the cultures and the places he ' d traveled.

She wanted to know about the world that she ' d been missing out on. There was a vast lot of it, and she wasn't sure she ' d ever get the opportunity. The least she could hope for was to experience those things vicariously through somebody else.

She hoped Mr. Alton would be open to talking about it all, despite them having much to do.

" At least he ' s not boring," Isabella commented.

Eliza moved around and handed Isabella a warm cloth with which to clean her face. " Traditional does not mean boring."

" What? Would you rather have someone who always follows the rules and lives a small life?"

" A small life is the same as a peaceful one," Eliza answered. " There ' s nothing wrong with good manners and a kind demeanor."

" Mr. Alton has both of those things while also being well-traveled," Isabella responded. " You can ' t assume that just because he has done many things, he has simply left his values behind somewhere. He ' s given you no reason to believe that."

" I am merely saying that you need to be careful," Eliza said.

" The gunman is likely an Englishman, you know," Isabella said. " Someone who has spent their lives here and likely never left. He ' s running around trying to shoot at the duke!"

" I ' m afraid I've missed your point," Eliza argued.

Isabella moved from her chair to the dressing room to get into her nightgown. " The traditional and well-mannered Englishman could be just as dangerous. How do we know it wasn't your Mr. Langley who pulled the trigger?"

" Don ' t be ridiculous," Eliza spat. " He would never."

" How do you know?"

The two women stared at each other for a moment before they burst into a fit of laughter. They doubled over and wiped tears from their eyes. They didn't often have arguments like that one, but when they did, it was often ridiculous.

" Should we agree to disagree?" Isabella offered through giggles.

" I ' m afraid we don ' t have much choice! I don ' t agree with you now, and I don ' t think I'll agree with you anytime soon."

Eliza turned down the bed, ready for Isabella to lie down and fall into a deep sleep. She wondered if she ' d be able to concentrate long enough to read at all.

" What of Mr. Langley then?" Isabella asked.

" What of him?"

" Does he strike you as traditional and well-mannered?" Isabella smiled knowingly at her.

" I suppose he does," Eliza answered. " But I don ' t know him very well, so I couldn't possibly say for certain."

" Yes, I suppose."

With that, the women greeted each other goodnight, and Isabella was left alone with her thoughts. She liked the idea of a man with culture, and perhaps fewer manners than most. It meant she could get away with a little more.

Surely a man like Mr. Alton wouldn't mind if she spoke her mind from time to time? He had seen horrors in the war, which had likely put things into perspective for him about what truly mattered and what didn't.

She couldn't make such assumptions, though. Isabella would soon get to know him as they ' d be working closely together. What she wanted was to be proven right when it came to his character.

Isabella wanted to be fed full with stories from his adventures and lessons he ' d learned in the world. That way, she could fuel her imagination when she lay in bed at night and pondered things. It would give her something to think about when she stared out of the window at breakfast time.

Her adventure would start soon. Already, she felt like a changed woman, and as she readied herself to sleep that night, she wondered who she would be at the end of it all. How much would she change?

And how would she go back to the way things were when it was all over?