Page 18 of A Duke in Her Fate
As she met his gaze, she thought she saw something there. A shine? A sparkle?
But then his lips turned downward, and he looked away. Everyone was moving around. It was time they stepped off the dance floor to make way for the others. She thought for a second the duke was leaving her until he offered his arm to her once more.
A shiver ran through her as she accepted it, nearing him all over again. Something felt like it had changed between them on the dance floor. Isla couldn’t explain it, but something felt different.
Glancing up at the duke, she knew two things. That she was in over her head and that nothing about this arrangement with Westvale was going to be simple.
CHAPTER 7
Ronan tapped his cane into the ground impatiently before collecting himself.
He had time. He wasn’t in a rush. Another glance at his pocket watch confirmed he was still ahead of schedule. Officially, he was early to the office.
“Westvale?” Called a voice from behind that made him freeze. “What a surprise to see you here.”
Turning, he gave Sebastian a pointed look. “You followed me here, did you?”
The man offered his wicked grin that had half of London in fear of the beast that he was. Tall and broad-shouldered, Sebastian had spent half his life living and brawling in the slums of the city before returning home to where he took on the mantle of duke. “Can you prove it?”
“No. But your face says enough.”
“Whereas your face says nothing these days,” his old friend commented on his way over. He glanced around at the fabric and knobs laid about, then nodded to the double door entryway ahead of them. “Buying a new carriage, are you?”
Ronan gave a short nod. “Indeed.”
“I thought you didn’t like using them any longer,” Sebastian said. The smile on his face had softened to give him a serious look.
Not interested in being studied, Ronan glanced away. “I don’t. But my family will have need of one.”
“Ah. For the duchess, then?”
At least he isn’t wasting time on beating around the bush. If only I had a better way of hiding. I swear they must have hired hands keeping an eye on me.
When he didn’t give anything more than a shrug, Sebastian carried on. “I heard you were at Langdon’s two nights ago. Isabel and I meant to attend, you know how she loves dancing, but the littlest one was collicky and the like.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Ah, he’s already on the mend. And how is Oliver?”
“A growing boy. He’s fine,” Ronan added curtly in the hopes that his friend wouldn’t dig in further. Although his friends knew of the boy, few others did, and he still didn’t know how to talk about the situation without his heart bleeding.
Nodding, Sebastian moved about the empty shop. There were four chairs set out for them but Ronan had spent enough time riding today and wished to stretch his legs. The shopkeeper, Olsen, was finishing a deal, so would be with him soon enough.
“Two dance sets, including the supper dance,” his friend said. They were back on the topic of a wife, apparently. Ronan rubbed his brow to prevent a headache. “That’s a fine statement. Matches well with the announcement for a betrothal between the Duke of Westvale and a Lady Isla MacLaren. Quite the surprise, I have to say.”
Ronan glimpsed Olsen headed his way at long last. With his patience wearing thin, he started toward the doorway. “A pleasant conversation, Sebastian, as always.”
Then he dipped through the partially open doors to make his way down the hall. Olsen was just putting papers away in his office. “And then I’m free to take you back. I’d love to show you our newest model, Your Grace. Your heightened awareness for safety will surely be well received here,” the man added with reassurance.
It still made Ronan’s heart beat.
Following the man to the stables, he allowed him to begin pointing out and explaining all the springs and new safety measures that were in the works. Improvements had been made over the last couple of years, which he had been demanding for some time. He had, thank god, been heard.
But even as he tried to focus, Sebastian was in his head. His friend hadn’t even said much. And yet there was Isla back in his mind, distracting him.
She will make for a fine duchess. Though her immediate family no longer has a claim to titles, they still have the honorifics and that is satisfactory. Scottish blood, but still awfully blue. No matter whom I wed would surely be a target for gossip. But she’s a strong sort of young lady. Clear-eyed and energetic. Steady, too.
“Do you have any questions?” Olsen asked him with clasped hands.
