Page 29 of My Duke, The Stranger
Eleven
“… I
wish I could remember,” Cassian said with a warm smile. “Just so I know whether or not you are lying to me.” He dropped the smile and looked at Isolde as if to dismiss her claims.
Her stomach dropped, and for a moment, she thought that he had finally caught onto her lies. Only then, the smile returned and he laughed and shook his head.
“You have made me out to be a hopeless romantic,” he chuckled. “And a little awkward to boot. I had hoped that I might have been more charming when I first started courting you.”
Isolde breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, just because you were so awkward does not mean that you were not charming. Or maybe I am just that easy to please.”
“Maybe you just knew how lucky you were,” he countered.
She laughed. “Yes, that must have been it.”
“I still cannot believe the chance of it,” he said with a glimmer in his eye. “But I should not be so quick to question fate.”
“Fate?”
“Is that not what it was? What else might you call it?”
Fate… he is not wrong, even if I might not be quite so excited to name it as he is.
Isolde and Cassian dined alone. It was the first time they had done so since arriving at the manor—that second evening was when Isolde had claimed a sickness, forcing herself into solitude, praying that a situation like this one might be avoided for as long as possible.
It was strange to think about that now. Although the danger was far from over, and although Isolde was still so aware of how precarious her situation was, even she could not deny how enjoyable this evening had turned out to be.
Cassian had been thrilled when she told him that her sickness had passed. He laughed. He hugged her. And he insisted that they sup together in celebration.
It was as romantic an evening as Isolde had ever seen. The dining room was dimly lit. The silverware and porcelain glimmered in the candlelight as if set by diamonds. Flowers werearranged along the table, their scent sweet and aromatic. And to top it off, Cassian even had one of the footmen play the violin in the corner.
He insisted that she wear a splendid gown of yellow and amber. Her hair was worn in tight ringlets. Her face was powdered. The jewelry around her neck and on her fingers could feed her family for five lifetimes. And that wasn’t to mention Cassian himself, dressed in a smart suit, looking every inch a duke.
They spoke as if they had known one another their entire lives. As each course was served, Cassian joked and made amusing comments about the lavishness of the meals, and how absurd it all was, while also checking that she had everything she needed.
Why is he so kind to me? I do not deserve this…
Then came the moment Isolde had been waiting for. Finally, Cassian had her tell him how they met, and she spun a story about a storm in the night, one that forced Cassian to take refuge in her home, which then saw an evening spent together in the dark, rain lashing at the house, shaking it from its foundations, all while the two of them came to understand how perfect they were for one another.
“I take it that when I fell from my horse, I was on my way to see you?” he asked her as he sipped on a glass of red wine.
“I can only assume,” she said. “Unless you were on your way to see another woman on the estate?”
He laughed. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“Even if I was, it is not as if you might remember it.”
“Mean,” he sulked playfully. “I like to imagine that I was on my way to tell your father of my plans to marry you. Apparently, even Mr. Pemberton did not know. No doubt we thought the secrecy necessary.”
“We did,” she said, unable to look him in the eyes because the smile they wore was like a knife stabbing through her chest.
“Slowly, the pieces come together,” he continued, still smiling, and still looking at her with infatuation. “After we realized how we felt, I take it that I looked into your family history?” He waited for her response.
“You…” She took a sip of wine to cover herself. “You did not tell me you were doing so.”
“That must have come as quite the surprise.”
“Well…” She swallowed her nerves. “I had already told you what my father had said. So, you were merely checking for yourself, I believe.”
