Chapter 14 #2
“There is a fellow who has seen at least three times as many years as I have,” the duke drawled.
“He is leading a little dog on a leash and they’re both wearing a violent amount of ruffles around their necks.
The dog has more hair than he does. It’s a warm day but they’ve been out too long, I believe, because they’re both panting.
I don’t think they’re enjoying their stroll any longer. ”
Isla’s eyes widened at his description. She was surprised by the detail and storytelling of it all. He clearly noticed more than he ever said.
“Oho!” Lacey clasped her hands together. “How nicely put. Another if you please! Do describe the nearest carriage.”
“It’s a ghastly shade of orange meant for autumn and yet not meant for anything at all.
The rims are a faded gold, which means it was top quality at some point.
Judging by the way it bounces, however, it has seen better days.
And much better construction,” Ronan added in a low tone.
His hands clenched into fists on his lap, a tiny detail Isla caught.
She heard the tension as he continued describing the vehicle. The description was very entertaining, especially as he made it to the driver’s bench, but there was that hard edge to it all that worried her. What was upsetting him?
Tentatively she reached out. It wasn’t like Lacey could see anything. Perhaps a touch would soothe the man. She inhaled and gently set a hand over his closest fist to offer her support.
And Ronan yanked himself free from her touch.
She pulled back as he glanced back at her for a second. Then he did it another time, longer, before clearing his throat.
When he spoke next, his tone was softer. “In all, it’s a fine carriage but surely needs improvements. I wouldn’t recommend it. Was that description to your satisfaction, my dear girl?”
“You know so much about carriages, Westvale, you could be a driver yourself! Or make them. Do you like carriages?” Lacey asked innocently.
“I merely believe in safe transportation.”
Isla wished she could silently communicate with her sister when the girl asked, “Why? Do they make you nervous? It’s all right to be afraid.”
“Thank you, Lacey, but I’m not afraid. Merely cautious. I know too well what can happen with a foolish driver or a fragile carriage.”
“Have you been in an accident before?”
“No. My sister was.” Ronan clearly avoided Isla’s gaze, his chin lifting in the other direction, as he hastily added, “What else shall I describe? This dying plum tree?”
Isla blinked in bewilderment. The duke had a sister?
She didn’t know about that. There might have been mention of family.
Except he didn’t have any, not really. As for siblings…
He’d had someone, hadn’t he? Frustration swept through her.
There wasn’t enough of his past that he had shared for her to remember anything.
Why didn’t he tell me? Is she all right? Every time I am with the duke, I swear there is so much more I need to know from him.
There was much for Isla to stew over. She couldn’t forget what he had said. The way his voice grew pained… It hurt. He said so little but the pain was there. She could feel it inside the carriage, within the thick walls and firm padding around them.
On the carriage ride went. Whatever was discussed next, Isla had a hard time focusing. Lacey laughed and Ronan talked.
And Isla thought. She wondered. She looked at the man she was going to marry, wondering what she had gotten herself into. How could she have known what would happen when she said his name in the gardens? It was supposed to be small and innocent white lie.
One little lie now has me preparing for a life with a fascinating man but a complete stranger.
Will I ever really know him? Or am I supposed to prepare for a future where we never talk and never…
No. No, he said he wished to talk. He will tell me.
He must. I cannot live a life with a stranger for the rest of my days. Not for all the riches in the world.
“Isla? Isla!” Lacey reached out and tapped her hand.
Jumping in surprise, Isla looked about. “What? Did we return yet?”
“We’ve turned back toward your home,” Ronan replied to her, nodding slightly toward her window.
He was right. They had just turned back onto her street. “Ah. My apologies. I was wool-gathering, I suppose.”
“Never mind that. I want you to describe him for me. He can picture anything in the world but he merely calls himself tall,” Lacey explained and made a face.
“Is that it?” Isla said, pulling herself together with a smile and turning to him. “Tall?”
Ronan straightened up. His sober mood earlier had faded. “Aren’t I?”
“Of course you are; most people are taller than us,” she added pointedly.
He made a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Very well, Lacey. Our dear duke is… he is very tall with fine shoulders. Broad, not at all like the dandies so popular in London. He cuts a fine figure in the best of fashions, but he doesn’t care for color much. ”
“I don’t?”
“Muted colors,” she pointed out with a nod to his dark blues he had dressed in.
“Always a fine white cravat, but everything else is always dark. It compliments your features, of course. He has brown hair that curls more with time. It reminds me of freshly turned dirt in a garden filled with promise and sunshine. His coat today compliments his blue eyes. They remind me more of the sun than the sky, I think,” she mused as she gazed at him.
He looked back with open curiosity and said nought.
“They are very sharp, his eyes, Lacey. I’ve never seen anything like it.
He sees right to the heart of the matter. ”
Lacey let out a soft, “Oh.” She paused with a proud grin. “What about his smile, Isla? He must smile often.”
“No, but that’s all right,” she said thoughtfully. “Every smile is a little surprise and you never know when you will receive such a thoughtful gift.”
Ronan blinked and tilted his head. “A good surprise?”
Thinking back to the way she had greeted him today, Isla bit back a laugh. She met his gaze so he would know she meant it. “Yes, a good surprise. Your smiles are very dashing and bold. There is something about you that makes me think of a dashing pirate.”
Ronan looked away but she caught the ghost of a grin. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone called me that.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve had a past,” he said simply.
Yes, very much of one. One I hope to learn about. I will hold you this, Ronan, that you must tell me someday soon everything. I want every secret of yours.
The carriage rolled to a gentle stop, so softly she hardly noticed. It was Lacey who bounced up. “What a marvelous time! I’ve never had so much fun. Thank you, Westvale, so much for this.”
He helped them out of the carriage, nearly getting knocked over when Lacey wrapped her arms around him in a hug. His grasp on Isla shifted but he corrected himself, helping her down to the ground, and glanced down at her.
“Thank you!” Lacey shouted and then hurried off toward the house. She found the gate, following the small stone markings to lead her up to the door.
Isla watched her go for a moment, but it was Ronan’s gaze who lingered longest. She didn’t mind. She needed a minute to study him.
Somehow her sister was allowed to hug the duke but he wouldn’t let her hold his hand. There was a discomfiting tightness in her chest that she wanted to ignore. Why didn’t he want her? She knew how little he cared about the marriage. He was going through with it, and yet hardly seemed to care.
Except for the servants. The gifts. He’d supped with them and hadn’t backed out after clearly seeing how poor they were in truth. There was contradictions at play that she didn’t understand.
“Is something wrong?”
He was looking at her again. Isla felt her smile tighten. Rolling back her shoulders, she shook her head. “No, all is well, I believe. I should go.”
“Very well.”
Or I could stay. I could spend time with you. We could finally talk. Just say the word, Ronan. Why won’t you stay? Why won’t you touch me?
She didn’t know why she cared about this, about him, about any of it. She took a step back and still Ronan did nothing. “Good day, Your Grace. And thank you for the carriage ride,” she forced herself to say politely.
Then Isla went inside straight up to her room to try and catch her breath.