Page 22 of A Duke in Her Fate
Isla supposed she couldn’t mind too much. Most likely, they were simply coming to taunt and mock her. What was a Scottish woman doing here with a duke? No one cared about her family’s name or past polish here in London.
“I have four estates.”
She nearly jumped with the duke spoke, having practically forgotten they were together. He glanced down and made her realize she had clutched him rather tightly on the arm.
“My apologies,” she muttered before clearing her throat. “Four estates, you say?”
“Yes, and of course the gold mines.”
It felt like he was tossing her off a cliff. “Gold mines? Since when?”
To her surprise, the duke’s lips twitched into a near smile. “Ah, I forgot you have not been long before us. You really didn’t know who you were naming, did you, when you shouted my name?”
“I did not shout your name,” Isla hotly corrected him. “And how should I know about gold mines? They don’t particularly thrive in Scotland. All we have are rocks. Does everyone in London know about the gold mines?”
“Everyone in England and more,” he corrected her with a wry expression. “It is how my father earned his dukedom. He made the Crown and himself extraordinarily wealthy. We weren’t born with blue blood like yours.”
“I assure you, I still bleed red,” she started before understanding what he was saying. “Ah. When did your father receive the title?”
He paused to help them move around a fountain. “When I was ten years of age.”
That surprised her. “Then you were already becoming a young man. Your world must have drastically changed, Your Grace. Was it wonderful? Terrifying?”
“Both. And please, call me Westvale. Unless you’d prefer my name. Ronan Ward,” he added when she stared at him blankly.
I really don’t know anything at all about him, it would seem.
Isla decided to change that. “Thank you for the honor, Westvale. You’re more than welcome to call me Isla. Do you have any siblings? Brothers or sisters?”
“I have the four estates, and manage small staff numbers at all times. It’s a personal preference as I have no need to be waited on for every single thing. What type of household works well to your satisfaction?”
Staring at him in disbelief at such obvious rudeness, Isla couldn’t help but point out, “You completely evaded my question.”
“I’m resuming our original conversation before we deterred,” he corrected her. “You may ask me another time.”
“But conversations flow naturally and may lead to other places.”
“And I’ve led it back to my household. You told me prior that you have experience in managing more than one estate, and I’d like to inquire on that topic more,” he said with a stubborn edge to his voice.
All Isla could see before her was a pouting child, someone who didn’t want to talk. She studied his face for a minute to answer her unsaid questions on why he didn’t care for that topic. The way he worked his jaw told her there was some pain tied to it. Heartache, perhaps. There wasn’t a chance in the world he was going to tell her about his family right now.
So she heaved a dramatic sigh as it felt like her only justified response to his childish attitude. Then, pretending not to see the roll of his eyes, Isla managed to answer his question.
It turned into another interview once again as Westvale led her through his questions, all of them practical, to learn more about her skills and to note his own expectations for this potential union. His manners were polite. She couldn’t truly fault him for that. But it was a beautiful day, and the questions never stopped, and soon Isla was too warm and tired of everything.
“No, I don’t know how I would handle finding a cook had completely forgotten to go shopping,” she finally snapped. Stepping free of him, she put her hands on his hips. “I’ve never encountered that situation, nor half the others you have proposed.”
Fortunately, they had gone off the path once more to avoid more people. Maybe that was why Isla felt she dared to address the duke this way.
“They are all reasonable incidents that a duchess should be prepared to encounter,” Westvale said.
She paused to give him a disbelieving look. “Then you have encountered all of them?”
“Well, no. But I’ve heard of them happening,” he reasoned.
“Where?”
“I don’t know the answer for every situation. Gossip, correspondence, stories… books, perhaps.”
