Page 74 of A Duke in Her Fate
At this rate, Isla wondered if she would ever be free again.
The problem now stands that I am awfully amused. And curious. Is this who Ronan really is? Or did my fall merely scare him? He’s been so awfully persistent and kind.
Between her frequent sleeping spells, Isla couldn’t deny that she was being treated very well by her husband. The household was a given. But the duke was a particular matter.
Though she had seen a glimpse of his goodness during their strange courtship, it was different now. Ronan was twice as considerate. He brought Oliver twice a day for visits, and made more jests for the lad than she’d ever heard from him before.
Those were her favorite moments. Well, some of them; most of the days were wonderful. Because when Oliver wasn’t there while she was awake, Ronan would still be there. He had brought her books that he read aloud no matter what she wanted to hear in the moment. She loved this as he cared not for the dramatics of a gothic romance; but he read them all the same, grumbling and chuckling with his own commentaries in between the lines.
I’ll never be able to enjoy a fated love story the same without his voice in my head.
Perhaps she should feel a tad guilty, she supposed. A heavy sigh escaped her. “It was honest at the time,” Isla admitted, not meeting his gaze.
“Then I’ll have him come morning and night.”
“Oh, please don’t. That’s awfully rude,” she started before looking back at him and realizing he wasn’t serious. “Oh, you’re awful.”
Tsking, Ronan settled on the edge of the bed. She perked up. She liked it when he was close. Not just for his warmth and delicious scent, but because it further felt like he cared.
“You had better play nice or I’ll deny you your gift,” he murmured.
“A gift?” She repeated, intrigued. “What sort of gift? I haven’t missed any sort of holiday, I should think.”
He tilted his head, his expression softening into almost a smile. It meant his heart was softening too, right then, and that’s what made this look of his one of her favorites. “No, I suppose not. Maybe I should take it back all the same.”
Straightening, Isla frowned. “What? Don’t you dare!”
“Oh?”
“If you’re forcing me back to bed, then surely I deserve something for staying put,” she reasoned.
Ronan chuckled. “Only you would justify it that way.”
“So?”
“Very well,” he sighed dramatically, tilting his head up. She watched the way his dark hair curled over his shoulders. “I suppose I should bring it to you. It came so far.”
“From where? France?”
His eyebrow quirked high. “I’m afraid not that far. What is it you think I have brought you?”
Leaning forward, Isla asked in turn, “Won’t you give me a hint?”
“When it’s such fun keeping you in suspense?”
“It cannot be good to treat me so cruelly,” she pouted, unable to help herself. She shifted her leg against his just to annoy him, thinking too late it could be deemed improper, only for him to settle a hand over her ankle. Her breath caught at the touch. His warm grasp. She could feel him his touch and it spread that heat through her entire body.
Ronan opened his mouth to speak up but wasn’t fast enough as the door barged open, and a small figure darted through.
“Is this it?” Shouted Lacey, reaching into the empty space with both arms. “Is this the room? It’s past the hour and the duke said we could come! I’ve been waiting all morning and I shan’t wait any longer. Hello? Isla? You better be alive still after we’ve come all this way!”
Off Ronan went from the bed as Isla’s mouth dropped open in amazement. There went Doreen to help, but not before Margaret darted into the room and snatched Lacey’s hand.
Where did they come from?
“That was rude! You cannot barge into rooms,” Margaret muttered, eyeing the room. “Isla!”
“I knew she was in here!” Lacey tried to run in the wrong direction.
