Page 30 of My Duke, The Stranger
He sighed and shook his head. “This world. Even if you were common, I know it would have made no difference to me, Isolde. That it turned out you had noble blood was lucky, yes. But Iwould have married you no matter what people said. Know that to be the truth.”
The lies came a little too easily. And the story that Isolde told fit together a little too perfectly. That Cassian was so eager to believe it, too…it is as if he needs to believe it.
Yes, Mr. Pemberton had given her permission to lie. But that did little to make Isolde feel better. And it did not help that Cassian was so utterly and hopelessly obsessed with her. He looked at her across the table as if she were the center of his world, that if the walls might collapse and bury them, he would be glad that she was the last person he saw.
To make matters even more confusing, Isolde liked how he looked at her…
“I am so glad that you are feeling better,” he said as he put down his glass of wine. Then, he reached across the table and took her hand. “Knowing how ill you were, and that there was nothing I could do…” He sighed and shook his head. “It killed me, Isolde.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Cassian,” she said with awkward laughter. “There was nothing to be done but wait.”
“I know it,” he said. “But that logic did little to make me feel better. But you are well again now…” He squeezed her hand firmly as if worried she might let go. “Which means that from this day on, it will take the hand of God to tear us apart.”
“I… I…” Her throat constricted, and Isolde had to force herself not to look away. “I would like that.”
“You better,” he laughed.
Cassian let go of her hand and waved for the footman to attend to them. He asked what was for dessert and then requested that everything be brought to them to try.
“I will say this,” he grinned as the footman hurried from the room. “There are some things I like about being a duke.”
“Only some things?” she questioned with a wry smile.
“I do worry that I might turn into a tyrant,” he said, chuckling. “That it might get a little too comfortable, and I will lose my head. Make me a promise.” He looked straight at her, suddenly serious. “If I do lose myself in the noise, if you see me acting in a way that you do not recognize, tell me. Remind me of who I am and why you fell in love with me.”
It was as if he was trying to hurt her!
How could this man, one so kind and one so generous, be that same man who had once kicked her out and refused to help her family? One who had taken pleasure in turning her away? It made no sense!
Yet…that is who he is. Or I think it must be. When he remembers, will he transform back to his old self?
Did Isolde want that? She thought that she did, because that would make it easier. Only, as she looked upon Cassian, as she saw his smile and heard his laughter, she could not say for sure.
Truthfully, she liked this version of him, and should he change back to his wicked self, she would miss him, as she would miss how he made her feel… it was unlike anything she had felt before, and would likely feel again. In fact, Isolde knew now that when that day came, it might just break her.
Twelve
“You seem in remarkably high spirits, Your Grace,” Mr. Pemberton said as he studied Cassian across the desk.
“Ought I not to be?” Cassian asked as he took a sip of brandy and smacked his lips. “Tonight is a night for high spirits, I think.”
Mr. Pemberton smiled. “I like seeing you this way. It reminds me of…” He trailed off and looked away as if he had said something that he should not.
“It reminds you of what?”
“Oh, nothing,” Mr. Pemberton sighed. “Just when you were a boy.”
“And when I was a man?” he pressed.
“Men are not boys,” Mr. Pemberton said carefully. “Boys have little to care about, but what they see before them—a man’s life—is weighted with responsibility. But losing your memory has freed you of this, and it warms my heart to see it.”
“Yes, well…” Cassian cleared his throat awkwardly. “I have every reason to feel this way. My muddled memory aside, I dare say that life is somewhat perfect as it is.”
“If you say so…”
Cassian’s spirits were piqued for good reason. He had just seen Isolde to her chambers, following what was a perfect evening with the woman whom he loved. That was what was so strange, as well as so right. It was not that he was falling in love with her, as if they were in the early stages of courtship. Rather, it was that he already loved her, just as he was sure that she loved him.
He knew so little about her. He could not even remember the day that they met. Yet, that love burned in his heart so hot that he worried it might explode.
