Chapter 27
“What the devil is going on here?”
Isla tightened her grasp on the bed post and noticed nearby her maid, Doreen, sending her a pointed look. She ignored that to face the doorway.
“I’m only––” She started but the duke gave her no time.
There wasn’t even a moment to look up before he had scooped her in his arms. A surprised squeal escaped her. The thick scent of apples and baked bread overwhelmed her senses, leaving her dizzy.
Then suddenly he was setting her back onto the bed. As Ronan straightened up, she pouted.
“That was unnecessary,” Isla said.
“Hardly,” he scoffed with his brooding expression. This was how he always looked at her now, at least when he knew she could see him. But every now again, Isla swore he softened his gaze on her.
“I have been abed nearly four days now,” she reminded him. “I have been resting day and night. My head is well again.”
“You complained of aches just last night.”
Isla turned to shoot Doreen a glance, but the maid merely shrugged. So Isla went back to her husband, refusing to be shamed. “I’m restless. It’s perfectly natural. Even Lambert the physician says I’m doing well enough to be on my feet.”
“Only because you denied any further discomfort, which I know is not the case. You were limping yesterday as well. That and the migraine surely disprove your wellness. I shall have him return tomorrow and you must give him an honest accounting,” Ronan told her sternly.
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.
Ronan intercepted her free hand, tugging her toward Isla. “Right this way, young lady. So glad of you to join us.”
“Join…” Isla turned to him in bewilderment.
Such surprise had her struggling to piece her thoughts together.
But slowly it came together. Her heart pounded as Lacey clambered across her on the bed to slide under the blankets and wrap her arms around her waist. Then Ronan was further moving back to let Margaret sit on her other side of the bed, the three sisters brought back together again by a miracle.
No, not a miracle. By Ronan.
Her heart melted even further. She watched him for a spell as Lacey recounted their adventure. A letter had been sent to her family shortly after the incident. Once Ronan was certain she would mend, the following day, he’d offered an invitation.
Just for two days her sisters were here, so she might have their companionship. Then he would ensure their safety home.
“Thank you,” Isla mouthed with watery eyes to Ronan.
He nodded with a gentle smile, and then politely excused himself.
“This is magnificent,” Lacey touted as she ran her hands over the fine pillows. “Look at all this! I shall imagine the most wonderous colors. Such fine stitching! Isla, I can even smell how wonderful this house is. May I come live with you? Margaret too?”
“Thanks,” Margaret muttered dryly. “She hasn’t been quiet since our arrival, you know. She left a trail of sticky fingers after some honey buns last night.”
“It couldn’t be helped,” the youngest announced solemnly.
Chuckling, Isla shook her head. It was overwhelming in the best way to be with her sisters again.
She could stay in bed all day like this. And she did, dozing off during their stories and letting Lacey later tickle her awake.
“Do behave yourselves,” Ronan drawled shortly after she was up again with her sisters on either side of her. “I bring another gift.”
“Another?” Isla started before chuckling as he turned around to reveal Oliver clinging to his back. “Ollie! Whatever are you doing?”
He beamed at her and then hid shyly away when he saw there was company.
It took a short spell to lure him away from Ronan, but one had no choice but to adore Lacey’s loudness and Margaret’s kindness.
Soon, everyone was seated on or around the bed.
Teatime passed with hot drinks and delicious sandwiches until she was trying to hold back her yawns.
But Ronan saw. He saw everything. Rising to his feet, he collected Oliver in his arms who shrieked and laughed before clinging to him.
“A perfect day it has been,” he announced, “so let us not ruin it with pouting now. Let us all go our own ways for the evening, shall we?”
He convinced Margaret and Lacey away, then came Anne to collect Oliver as well. Another maid removed the tea tray, and finally Ronan was fixing Isla’s blankets for her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, pausing him with her hand over his. “You didn’t have to do any of this. But you did. Thank you, Ronan.”
His gaze slid up to meet hers. “It is my pleasure, Isla. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”
“No. Only…”
“Only what?”
She hesitated, forcing back her nerves with a smile. “Everything you have done is so wonderful. Generous. But I don’t need everything.” She couldn’t count all the gifts he’d been delivering since her accident. Isla had more than what she knew what to do with. “I just want you here.”
That made Ronan hesitate. “Even with your sisters here?”
“Always.”
Surprise flickered in his gaze as he gazed down at her.
Already she was struggling to stay awake.
It had been an exciting day, after all, and perhaps she wasn’t as well rested and healed like she hoped.
Ronan was right yet again. But so long as she could have another minute with him, Isla wouldn’t fight the sleep.
A quiet moment like this was too special to ignore.
“I’m giving you everything I can think of and all you want is me?” Ronan asked with a slight smile. “Perhaps you really did hit your head too hard. Why would you desire such a thing? Why me?”
She gave his hand a squeeze as she said, “Because we are married.”
“And?”
It didn’t make sense to her why this wasn’t reason enough for him. But they already saw the world so differently much of the time. So Isla was willing to explain further, fighting the sleep and her heavy tongue.
“Because it’s you. It’s us. We are wed to one another for the rest of our lives.
I see you now Ronan, and I want to still see you.
You care for me. In your own way. I see that.
I… And I like it. I like you. I can desire your company simply for that reason, you know.
” She needed three yawns to finish her speech.
When he gently brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, she closed her eyes. It was too easy. Too comforting. She was tired and he was warm.
“You are too good for the likes of me,” Isla could have sworn he murmured. “Sleep well, Isla.”
His voice lingered in her mind through the night and the following days, even after her sisters took their leave. She was feeling stronger every day.
It didn’t take much longer before she was able to convince Ronan that an hour in the garden couldn’t cause any harm. He helped her walk there himself, wrapped in a warm shawl and his arms around her waist to where he led her to a picnic basket already waiting for them in the shade.
“You are such a natural at taking care of me,” she teased lightly. “Have you done this often?”
“Not at all. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Liar.” They exchanged smiles. She let him pull forward a small tea tray for drinks. “You are very good at caring for others. Your sister was younger than you, wasn’t she?”
Inhaling deeply, Ronan took his time nodding. “Yes. She was. We were… close growing up until I left for university. I made friends and wanted the bright life in London, but she never cared for the city.” He poured carefully for her.
“Can I ask more about her?” Isla asked tentatively, noting the tightness in his brow.
“I would rather you didn’t.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps another time.”
She nodded, grateful he had even given her this morsel about him.
It had been difficult to find the courage to ask, not knowing how he might respond.
For all she knew, he might have stalked off.
“Certainly. By friends, you mean the other dukes, don’t you?
Did you know them all back in your days at university? ”
Rolling back his shoulders, Ronan proved more ready for this conversation. He was cautious at first to share about his youth. But soon, as he was telling the stories of how each of his friends married, he was relaxed and even laughing.
He wasn’t afraid to tell her something for once, Isla marveled. It made her wish they could make this afternoon last forever. But as always, he caught her eventual yawns and insisted on returning her to bed.
“Not yet,” she complained when Ronan gathered her up into his arms. She quickly looped her arms around his neck, inhaling his familiar scent.
“You can hardly keep your eyes open. Did you just sniff me?”
A sheepish smile crossed her face as she leaned her cheek against his shoulder, her exhaustion preventing her from being embarrassed. “Perhaps. You smell good.”
“Like tea and cucumbers?”
“No. Like apples.” She yawned. “I like it.”
“Then I suppose I can admit I like the way you smell, too.” Ronan’s words rumbled through her chest, convincing her to relax. She smiled as he carried her to her bedchamber quietly where she fell asleep dreaming of apple orchards.