Page 58 of A Duke in Her Fate
While the stranger continued speaking, waving a hand, Isla’s smile faded. She looked at Ronan thoughtfully until the stranger put a hand over hers. Ronan jerked but couldn’t move before Isla was shifting back. She shook her head, then gave the gentleman a nod, and gestured to his carriage.
After an overly courteous bow, the stranger was on his way.
It doesn’t matter what you do. I don’t care. Keep talking to him. Don’t keep talking to him. I won’t control you. I told you I wouldn’t control you, only that you are mine, and…
Isla turned around. She turned her back on him and went inside the shop––a bookshop from the looks of it––without speaking to him.
Although Ronan waited a spell, he grew impatient. Frustrated with himself and her over what had happened, or perhaps what hadn’t happened, he nudged his horse along. They journeyed to the vicar where Ronan promised to help with a new roof.
He trotted his horse back through town afterward. But he couldn’t find Isla anywhere, and told him it was for the best. Soon, he made it back to the house and started the plans he promised for their vicar.
“Pleasant journey?” Hobbes asked when he brought forth a tray.
“Hardly. It was merely business.”
Hobbes nodded slowly. “Very well. What a shame.”
Pausing with his pen in the inkwell, Ronan glanced up. “A shame?” he echoed in confusion.
“The duchess and Ollie enjoyed an afternoon picnic out on the grounds,” Hobbes explained with a light smile. “It was a very enjoyable sort of gathering. You might have enjoyed yourself if you were here to attend.”
It wasn’t as though I received any sort of invitation. Once again, they are having their joy alone.Without me. They’re doing it without me. It isn’t… Well, that was the plan. Wasn’t it?
Perhaps it was, Ronan supposed, but he hadn’t realized he would feel a twist in his empty stomach. He hadn’t thought itwould matter. It shouldn’t, should it? The entire plan hinged on someone being there for Oliver. While Ronan provided the roof… Well, that was all he provided, wasn’t it?
“Where is she?” Ronan asked before he could help himself.
“Preparing for supper. She eats early so that Ollie can dine with her,” Hobbes explained before asking hopefully, “Shall we set another place for you?”
He leaned back in discomfort. “No. No, that won’t be necessary. I… I will speak with her after. Perhaps. If I find the time.”
The casual tone clearly wasn’t believable to Hobbes. “Certainly, Your Grace. She enjoys spending her evenings in the library,” he added before walking away.
While Ronan pretended to ignore him, the thought lingered in his mind. He tried to push it back repeatedly while he enjoyed his chai and then later his supper tray. Eventually, there was nothing more he could do in terms of his business unless he wished to recalculate numbers he’d already finalized a half dozen times over.
So he climbed to his feet. Took a deep breath. And started toward the library.
Tucked away in the corner by the small fireplace, Isla was curled up in front of a tall chair with cushions propping her up. Shelooked undeniably comfortable. Her hair was loose, and she wore a pretty shawl wrapped around her shoulders to stay warm.
He noted her bare feet with surprise just as she looked up and gasped.
“Goodness, Ronan. Where did you come from?” She asked accusingly. Though she wrapped her shawl tighter around her, it did nothing to hide her simple day dress revealing much of her collarbone. He noted two freckles he hadn’t seen before.
Then he frowned at the tone. “This is my house.”
“Our house,” she corrected him.
Huffing, he forced a nod. “Our house. I can go where I like, can I not?”
Isla shifted off a cushion awkwardly to crane her neck up for a better look at him. Scooting her feet beneath her, much to his disappointment, she said, “You never come here.”
“Perhaps I do. Simply when you are not here,” he added. He didn’t know what he was saying. Or doing. Were they arguing? That hadn’t been his plan.
“Perhaps you do,” Isla allowed. “But why now?”
Feeling like he was being interrogated, he frowned and deliberately took a seat on the loveseat nearby. “I wished to enjoy a quiet evening in the library. Is that so wrong?”
“Certainly not,” Isla said warily. “If that is all you seek?”
