Isabel blinked at the words, deceptively casual. “Sir? ”
Rock turned dark eyes on her. “Your stable master, my lady. And your butler. I assume that their … uniforms … they serve a purpose? ”
Isabel’s gaze narrowed. What was he getting at? “We … yes.”
He nodded once, firmly. “I did not doubt it.”
“I—” she started, not knowing what to say. “We—” She looked to the others for assistance, but none of the women seemed eager to enter the discussion. “That is …” Oh, for heaven’s sake, Isabel. Out with it. “I hope you will keep our secret, sir.”
He considered her for a long time, the steady fall of the rain on the roof of the stable the only sound. Isabel worked very hard not to fidget under his focused gaze. “You want me to keep it from St. John.”
This was it. The moment of truth. “That is precisely what I would like.”
He went silent, and Isabel felt sick at the idea that he might refuse her. Her mind began to race, cataloguing the locations and the people where she could send the girls quickly—to disperse the occupants of Minerva House before anyone from London discovered their whereabouts. She would not let her foolish outburst cause any one of them harm.
“It is done.”
She was so wrapped up in her panic that she almost missed the words. “I—I beg your pardon?”
“We all have secrets, my lady.”
“We do?”
One side of his mouth rose in a crooked smile. “I certainly do. And I would not like to think that you would give them away if you discovered them.”
“Certainly not.” She shook her head, vehement.
“While I do not understand it, I imagine you have a very serious reason for this”—he considered the other women—“unorthodox arrangement.”
She nodded. “I do.”
When it appeared that she was not planning to elaborate, he nodded once, apparently content with her answer. Perhaps Lara was right. Perhaps he was a nice man after all. “You do realize, however, that he will discover it for himself.”
Isabel’s brows snapped together. No, Lara was wrong. He wasn’t at all nice. “I see no reason why he should. Plenty of men—including you—have been inside Townsend Park and never noticed.”
“Isabel …” Lara’s voice was filled with caution.
Rock ignored it. “St. John is not like other men. He is keenly aware of his surroundings. I would venture to guess that if he were not so distracted by the other … peculiarities … of the house, he would have already discovered that which you are hiding beneath his nose.”
“There is nothing peculiar about Townsend Park!” Isabel protested.
Rock’s gaze flickered from Isabel to Kate to Jane—lingering on the masculine attire that all three wore. “Of course not.” Returning his attention to Isabel, he said, “He will not like to be the last to know.”
“He shan’t be the last to know,” she said, feeling incredibly peevish. “He shan’t ever know.”
Rock made a noncommittal sound deep in his throat before saying, “Yes. Well. In any event, we are through in the statuary for the day, so you have at least the evening to decide how you will continue your charade tomorrow.” He turned to Kate and, as though the whole situation were perfectly normal, he said, “Our mounts are required.”
A crack of thunder sounded then, loud and ominous, startling the women into action. “Of course,” Kate said, taking several steps toward the stall where Rock’s horse was stabled, before stopping short. She spun back, eyes wide, to meet Isabel’s gaze. “Oh.”
“Is there a problem?” Rock asked.
“No!” Lara, Kate, Gwen, and Jane all spoke in unison, looking from one to the other awkwardly.
“It’s simply that—” Jane started, then stopped.
“You see, sir—” Gwen tried, unsuccessfully.
“The road is flooded,” Kate blurted out.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds … quite common in a summer storm … it should be passable soon …” Lara rushed to make the situation seem better.
Of course, the situation wasn’t better.
“But, for now?” Rock looked to Isabel. Was that a glimmer of amusement in his eye?
Isabel replied, defeated. “You cannot leave.”
There was a beat as Rock processed the information. “I see. Then this will all be much more interesting than I initially thought.” There was a beat. “May I escort you ladies back to the house?” He offered Lara an arm.
Lara stilled, uncertain of how to behave, until Gwen elbowed her in the side and she jumped forward with a soft “Thank you, Mr. Durukhan.”
He settled her hand in the crook of his arm. “Rock. Please.”
She blushed and giggled.
Isabel’s brows rose. She’d actually giggled!
Of the many reasons why they kept men away from Townsend Park, giggling was top of the list.
The entire group began to exit the barn, leaving Isabel behind to consider her options. The men would have to spend the night, and Lord Nicholas would soon know all their secrets—whether told by his friend or not. The girls were not skilled at playing men. Their positions, clothing, everything was designed as a ruse in a passing moment—not in the long term. It was only a matter of time before one of them revealed her disguise.
And they would be beholden to Lord Nicholas.
And it wasn’t simply during the evenings. If he was here, working closely with them for two weeks … they’d never be able to keep the secret.