Obsession Wears Opals (31 page)

BOOK: Obsession Wears Opals

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At Rowan’s brownstone, every seat and corner inside his eclectic study was filled with the Jaded and their wives, all gathered in a quiet evening’s revelry.

“I cannot believe it! Thorne is tethered, and by such an elegant hand!” Galen smiled. “Welcome to our odd family, Miss Penleigh. I’d always thought that Darius would be the last in our company to find a willing wife.”

Isabel blushed. “Thank you, Lord Winters. But I cannot believe such a thing of Darius. He is too appealing to go unnoticed or to be neglected by the fairer sex for long.”

Rowan held up a small tray full of glasses of sherry for their toasts, which his wife promptly took from him to avoid spills. “We don’t doubt he’s pretty,” the doctor teased, “but we had worried that he wouldn’t look up from his books long enough to even notice the fairer sex.”

“I swear, I would think you men would be kinder to each other,” Gayle chided as she graciously ensured that everyone had a glass of their own. “Poor Darius.”

Isabel sighed and stepped closer to her fiancé. “There is nothing poor about Mr. Thorne.”

Darius took her free hand, tucking it into the protective harbor of his bent elbow. “Don’t mind them, my darling. They are mannerless oafs and it takes some time to accustom yourself to their idea of jealous compliments.” He shot his friends a cutting look over the rim of his gold glasses, and the men sobered as best they could, especially in the presence of ladies.

“We were fools not to use our heads as wisely as Thorne and find our wives by hiding in libraries,” Galen conceded, raising his glass of lemon water to initiate the festivities. “A toast!”

“Yes,” Haley concurred, rising from her chair in a lovely dress of ruby raw silk. “I think a toast is definitely called for.”

Michael stood from his chair in the corner, joining in the gesture. “To a friend’s well-deserved happiness.”

Rowan lifted his glass. “To you both!”

“To Darius and Isabel! May the difficulties of your beginnings mean you’ll have nothing but ease from this day forward!” Ashe raised his glass even higher.

“You’re not taking her back to the wilds of Scotland too soon, are you?” Galen asked.

“Stay long enough for a new trousseau!” Haley added. “My gift to wish you well, Isabel.”

“Thank you, Haley!” Isabel said, her eyes filling with tears at the generosity of her friends. “You are too kind.”

“Not to Scotland too soon,” Darius said. “Not for a while yet. There’s too much going on here, and Caroline has asked Isabel to stay for her confinement. I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but a feminine coalition has been created behind your backs, gentlemen. The Jaded have been outflanked.”

Michael’s eyes darkened. “Not
all
of the Jaded. At least one of us has to keep a clear head during troubled times.”

“Your turn is coming,” Rowan said firmly, but Michael’s look was uncompromising.

“Never.” Michael put down his glass, his gray eyes darkening with his vow.

“Enough!” Isabel swatted at Darius’s shoulder. “No one is outflanking anyone. It is an innocent friendship among the wives and I am grateful for it. Leave Mr. Rutherford alone. Besides, my promises to Caroline aren’t the only reason we’re staying.” Isabel turned to address the circle, her voice laced with quiet pride. “My husband-to-be has accepted a formal position as head of the new women’s college at Bellewood. Mrs. Blackwell has asked him to run the academic programs and see to the certifications!”

“The formal academic position you always dreamed of!” Rowan cheered. “Ashe! Why didn’t
you
think of it?”

Ashe shrugged his shoulders. “I was still befuddled by my beautiful American’s insistence at hiring
female
professors as well as male instructors for the venture. Besides,” he said in mock defense, “I assumed Darius was already occupied. I’ve never met anyone so buried in books and paper in my life.”

“A terrible recommendation if ever I’ve heard one,” Darius said with a smile.

“There’s still a certain prophecy to resolve and a wounded Jackal on our heels,” Michael stated flatly. “We’ll need that keen mind of yours if we’re to move ahead.”

Gayle stepped forward. “Yes, but that is for another day. Tonight, we are celebrating the joy we have and not lamenting unknown shadows on the horizon. Gentlemen, please. For one night, let us pretend that our greatest worry is coming up with a better name for your club.”

There was laughter all around at her jest, and hearty protests defending the Jaded “to the end.”

***

Darius pulled Isabel from their midst and retreated to the quiet of Rowan’s first-floor landing to take his fiancée into his arms. She was a vision in a pale blue silk, wearing the peacock necklace he’d sent for from Craig & Cavendish’s. The opals of a raja gleamed at her throat, their opulence muted and outshone by her delicate beauty and the love shining from her eyes. The necklace had been his engagement gift to her, and Darius knew it had somehow been fashioned for her alone.

Isabel blushed. “What are your intentions, Mr. Thorne?”

He carefully placed one hand at her back and lifted the other level with his shoulder. “I’m going to dance with the woman I love until the world falls away.”

“Oh!” She smiled at him in the candlelit hallway. “There is no music, Mr. Thorne.”

“Since when has that stopped us?”

He swept her into a turn, and Isabel laughed, giddy with the euphoria of finding her place in his arms, protected and safe.

And invincible.

***

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