Chapter 19
Isabel awoke before Sirius did, certain she had heard someone outside her bedroom door. She had made sure to lock it the night before, but she didn’t put it past Gabby to pick the lock. Somehow, Isabel was certain her sister would know such a skill.
Thankfully, the house remained silent and still, and Isabel eventually relaxed into the embrace of the furnace pressed close against her back. Sirius had his arm wrapped around her waist, his nose tucked to the delicate spot in the back of her neck. A smile curved her lips. She could get used to this…if only she believed this could be for forever.
Isabel mashed her lips together as she replayed the words Sirius had shared with her just hours before. He’d been an attentive lover, coaxing pleasure from her body until she hadn’t known which way was up. But somehow he’d been different. Intensity simmered in his cerulean gaze. It turned his touch electric, his kisses overwhelming. Every move he made hinted at his desperation, but desperation for what? It was almost as if he were afraid she would leave for Mexico directly, and his hold on her had been ironclad. Sirius hadn’t returned her love confession, and such an omission would normally have sent her into a downward spiral of screaming insecurities. Yet he had shown her, hadn’t he? With every kiss. Every caress. Every strangled moan spoke of his love.
Suddenly, Isabel was at a loss of what to do. She still wanted to return to Mexico—yearned to—and hoped that one of her many missives was received in time. Isabel prayed that it was Presidente Juárez himself to invite her to return, because her father would be less likely to object. But if the president did issue an invitation, could she turn it down if Sirius made an offer of his own?
Isabel thought she might be able to. And that would not do.
Carefully twisting about in the circle of his arms, Isabel studied Sirius’s slumbering form. His face was soft and peaceful, his unfairly long lashes fanned across the crests of his cheeks. His breath slipped from between his parted lips, and Isabel smiled. Sirius looked so innocent in sleep. So incredibly dear.
And he was dear. Sirius Dawson was the gentlest, kindest, most intelligent man she knew, and it would have been impossible not to fall in love with him. His confession of heroism made her heart ache in her throat. Sirius believed himself unworthy of the accolades he’d received, but Isabel saw them as his due. His role in the battle that returned him to England injured may have been exaggerated, but everything he had done since, from caring for his men and other veterans of the war, to working for the Home Office to uncover enemies of the Crown, and helping young women with more ambition than skill, told Isabel that Sirius was worthy of every good thing.
So how could she possibly ask him to give up the home, the sense of purpose, he had created for himself?
Gently extracting herself from his embrace, Isabel reached for her chemise, slipping it over her head before she pulled on her stockings. She was just sliding her corset around her waist when a pair of masculine hands smacked hers away.
“I wish we didn’t have to rise,” Sirius said, nibbling along the side of her neck as he pulled the laces taut. “I could stay in bed with you all day.”
Isabel arched her head back into his touch. “That sounds wonderful, but I don’t wish to court trouble, especially with my sister so close.”
Sirius paused in the middle of tying her corset laces. “Ugh, yes, I would prefer to avoid Miss Gabriela as well.”
Stifling a laugh, Isabel rested her head on his chest. “Tío Arturo is supposed to arrive later this morning so that we may discuss the cabinet’s next moves. I’m sure Ana and Gideon will be here, as well.”
Kissing the top of her head, Sirius said, “There is only so much you can do from the other side of an ocean, but with so many clever people in the room, I’m certain you all will think of something.”
“You’re right. I have to learn to temper my expectations or else I’ll go mad.” She bit her lip. “I just can’t help but think of all these horrible scenarios of what would happen if all of the letters we’ve sent were lost.”
“I’m sure a missive will reach the necessary parties in time.” He perched his chin on the top of her head.
Isabel released a long sigh. “It will take time for the garrison at Martinique to reach Sisal or even Veracruz,” she said slowly, processing the logistics.
“Exactly.” Sirius rubbed her back. “All the more reason to have hope.”
He was right, of course, but then Isabel knew that trying to temper her worries was a fruitless exercise. Until she received confirmation that her parents, the president, and the cabinet members had escaped to safety, Isabel was convinced she would not be able to sleep.
Taking a step back, Isabel looked up at Sirius. A tender light burned in his gaze as he stared down at her, and when he carefully brushed her curls back from her face, Isabel suddenly felt as if her lungs were too tight to draw in breath.
Be brave. She recited the mantra several times, painfully aware their affair had to end if she wanted to survive Sirius with her pride intact. Her heart, in comparison, was already in tatters.
“Thank you for coming to me,” she managed, moving a step away.
Sirius let his arm fall. “Thank you for letting me stay.”
She lifted a shoulder, her palms clammy. “I should freshen up. Lupe will be here soon.”
He nodded, his blue eyes narrowing.
“And I’m sure you have plans,” Isabel babbled, her hands gesturing nervously. “You’ve always kept a busy social schedule.”
“A bit of a job requirement,” he said.
Her chuckle sounded odd to her own ears. “You’re probably more than ready to focus on your work again, and not follow me, ensuring I don’t find trouble.”
Unable to hold his gaze a moment longer, Isabel spun about and fussed with the items on her dressing table. A silent moment passed, and a small piece of Isabel died with every second that ticked away on her bedside clock.
“Isabel,” Sirius finally said, a frown in his voice. “Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?”
Isabel shifted back and forth on her feet, her fingers curling to bite into her palms. “It’s not goodbye. It—it just occurred to me that our time together has come to an end. You helped me discover the information I was looking for—”
“You did that yourself, sunshine.” Isabel looked over her shoulder to find him with a small half smile on his lips. “Westhope was smitten with you because you are everything that is charming and lovely.”
Tearing her gaze from his, Isabel dropped her eyes to the tabletop. She couldn’t do this if he continued to be so wonderful. Dread pumped through her veins like acid, coalescing around her heart with a crippling sting.
“Whatever the case may be, you offered to help me and you did.” Isabel pivoted, leaning back against the dressing table. She tried to smile and hoped it didn’t appear as broken as she felt. “You can get on with your life now. The cosmopolitan, sophisticated life you led before you agreed to help me.”
A deep groove appeared between Sirius’s brows. “Get on with it?”
“Of course.” She gestured at him with a hand. “I’m sure the Home Office has been so thrilled by your work with me, and are ready for you to get back to the business of defending England. I don’t want to monopolize any more of your time.”
Sirius simply looked at her, and a sob threatened to burst free from her throat at the shuttered look in his eyes. “Any more of my time. Right.”
The flat tone in which he said the words battered her resolve.
Isabel barreled on, her mind searching for things to say to help him understand why this had to end, when all she truly wanted was to curl up in his arms. But she couldn’t trap him. Sirius had too many responsibilities, too many people who depended on him, too many people he loved and supported to abandon them for her. Isabel’s pride refused to even broach the subject.
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done to help me get to this point.” Isabel ignored how her voice cracked, determined to set him free before he realized how precariously she held herself together. “I would have searched, in vain, for a very long time.”
Sirius took a step closer to her, and Isabel flinched. If he touched her, she would crumble. He jerked to a halt, though, his face turned ashen. “Isabel.” He paused, his throat working. “Is this the end?”
Oh God. Isabel clamped her eyes closed and pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth until she was certain she wouldn’t cry. “I know you’re busy, Sirius, and I don’t want you to have to waste any more of your time on me.”
“You could never be a waste of time, Isabel.” Sirius grasped her shoulders, shaking her until she met his gaze. “I want—”
Her hand shot out to press against his chest, and Isabel struggled not to curl her fingers into the soft hair that ran down his sternum. “Your home is here, and mine”—she swallowed—“is not. I can’t continue to be this close to you knowing that what we share has a time limit.”
Sirius shook his head. “But it—”
“Sirius, please,” Isabel cried, sidestepping him. Crossing to the door, panic and despair warring in her chest, she held his gaze as she willed herself to say, “I have to fall out of love with you, and I would appreciate it if you gave me the space to do so.”
Everything about that moment seemed suspended, the tension raising the hairs on the back of her neck. If Sirius argued with her—if he confessed his feelings for her—Isabel would not have the fortitude to push him away again. The thought of never seeing him again, of one day learning from Ana and Gideon that he had married, would be a father, threatened to reduce her to ash. Yet he could be happy here…and she could not.
So Isabel pushed down her grief, pulled her spine straight, and risked a glance at his face.
His resigned expression sent a tear streaking down her cheek.
Isabel watched as Sirius dressed silently, the only hint of the emotions roiling under his somber facade the muscle flexing in his jaw. When he put his hat on his head, he finally turned to her, his eyes devoid of the light that had long shone in them.
“I wish you the best, Isabel. You are a singular woman capable of great things. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”
Sirius bowed crisply, avoiding her gaze. Wordlessly, Isabel held open the door for him and watched as he slowly slipped past her. When Sirius melded into the darkness of the hall, she quietly shut her door and threw herself on her bed. The sheets still smelled of him. Gathering them to her chest, she buried her face in them as she wept.