Chapter 28
Ronan drummed his fingers impatiently as he glanced out the window and frowned yet again. Then he pulled out his pocket watch to consider the time.
Across from him, Isla offered an unladylike snort. “If you’re going to be so impatient, you could have ridden your horse. It’s a warm day and it’s not like this carriage is going to move any faster.”
“I only…” he sighed and put the watch away before rubbing his forehead. “I know that.”
“Do you?” She asked in amusement.
He worked hard to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Turning from the window, he let the curtain back down to keep in the little warmth they had to gaze at Isla.
When he had announced he was needed for a few matters back in London, she eagerly decided to join him.
Over a week had passed since her fall so she was back on her feet, though not yet riding and still retiring for the occasional afternoon nap.
Ronan had tried to dissuade her––he wouldn’t be there long, he might not be able to attend any events, they might not even have any invitations, and he worried for her health––but Isla argued against every point so convincingly until somehow, he was helping her into the carriage.
“You’re mocking me,” he muttered.
“Teasing,” she corrected. Then she dared nudge her foot against his with that playful smile that haunted his dreams. “Why don’t you try to rest some? If you’re bound to be so busy in London, then you should get all the rest you can now.”
He shook his head. “I can hardly bring myself to even blink inside a carriage, let alone sleep.”
Her mouth opened and closed. Though he braced himself for her to bring up the topic of his sister, she redirected them to his relief. “Very well. Then we need a distraction. I have a book if you’d like to read it?”
“Not if it’s another pirate,” he found himself saying.
That smirk reappeared on her lips as she pulled out the book. “Worse. It’s a dangerous duke accused of murder whilst courting the king’s daughter.”
“Don’t tell me. He did murder someone, but her love saves him?” Ronan asked her dryly.
She handed over the book before snugly settling back into her cushions. “I suppose you’ll have to read it to me to find out.”
“I could skip to the end, you know.”
“Don’t you dare!”
Offering the heaviest sigh he could muster, knowing it would make Isla giggle, Ronan glanced the book over before opening it. “Very well. Do mind yourself and stay awake this time since I’m not reading it over again.”
She muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Of course you would,” but offered an innocent smile when he raised an eyebrow at her. “Go on,” Isla said loudly.
And so Ronan read half the book to her on their journey to London, stopping only because she began to sleep. He forced himself not to skip ahead and look at the ending if only for his wife’s sake.
That evening, having arrived at their townhouse in London, Ronan joined Isla in the library for a late supper. He brought the book to finish it but instead she was busy sorting through their correspondence that had yet to come their way.
“These invitations we can set aside,” she noted while taking polite small bites of her supper. She moved the largest pile to one corner to his relief. “But this… If we are here for the next fortnight, Ronan, we really should attend these events.”
He eyed the seven envelopes. “That’s too much.”
Her lips twitched as she moved three closer to him. “These are the ones you should accompany me to; the others I can attend alone.”
“You’re just newly healed,” he started.
But Isla was shaking her head. “We cannot be so discourteous. We need to present ourselves and do right by society. If I wished to be proper, I’d not leave London and attend two or three affairs daily.
Already I’ve told the staff we won’t be hosting any guests unless it’s my family or your friends,” she added before he could protest. “Surely that is enough. You cannot be a complete recluse now that you are married, but I can help in my way as your duchess.”
He closed his mouth. Giving her a considerate look, Ronan studied the determined set to her brow and the hopeful smile breaking through her lips. She wanted this, he realized. She wanted to be present as the duchess, to participate in society. She wanted to do something.
And how can I dream of denying her?
“Very well,” he told her at last. “Wherever are you sending us about London while we are here?”
This was how, the very next evening, Ronan found himself attending one of the season’s most prestigious balls.
The sort people were willing to bribe someone else to take their ticket.
Doors were closed to everyone else, and it would be the gossip of the ton through the entire summer no matter what might take place.
He guided Isla past the receiving room to the ballroom as she gazed about at the extravagance.
“Your mouth is open,” he murmured.
She let out a breathy sigh. “How is your mouth closed? I cannot fathom how lovely this is. I feel as though we are under water ourselves. Can you not feel the rushing water all around us?”
“More like the warm bodies threatening to drown us,” he said sardonically while squeezing her past a large party.
And then he ducked them over a wide swath of fabric that glistened like it was meant to be a wave.
It truly was a dazzling sight. Blue and silver and gold shimmered everywhere.
In front of the musical quartet set up in the middle of the room was a large treasure chest. The large dance floor set up all around the musicians was already taken up by many dancers enjoying a country dance.
“We were so late the receiving party has surely ended,” Isla muttered. “You cannot already be complaining.”
“Why not, when it is my one joy this evening?” He couldn’t resist teasing her.
She gave him a stern look but couldn’t deny the smile on her lips.
A warm victory spread through him. He fixed his grip neatly on her, keeping her close.
Isla was a dazzling lady this evening in a new green gown that matched her eyes.
He had brought her sand dollars that her maid had somehow managed to sew into her pinned up hair. She sparkled and shined tonight.
Others could see it, too, see how lovely she was. Gentlemen and ladies glanced their way and lingered their eyes on her.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” Isla asked when he too couldn’t look away.
“I’m afraid so,” he admitted. Her eyes widened before he went on to say, “A delightful button nose, two lovely eyes, and a very pretty mouth. I fear someone will try tossing you into the treasure chest and carting you away.”
“Ronan!” She squealed, a flush creeping up her face. “Your compliments are absolutely outrageous.”
“Then perhaps you should attempt to stop outdoing even the gold, yes? I don’t like everyone staring at you like this,” he managed to admit while smiling.
She beamed, stepping even closer so he could smell her intoxicating scent. “Then it’s a good thing I’m on your arm this evening, isn’t it? A beautiful lady deserves a handsome gentleman, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to let go of you.”
“I wouldn’t let you if you tried.”
“Really? What would you?”
“I’d steal you away into the night, of course.
” He did his best to devour Isla with his eyes, trying to ensure he would never forget the way she blossomed this evening.
Part of him was tempted to leave at once so they wouldn’t have to entertain anyone else.
What fun was there talking to anyone else now that he had her on his arm?
He’d rather steal away to have time with just her.
There is never enough time for the two of us.
It was a growing hunger within him that was growing harder to ignore, the need to feast himself on Isla. Just looking at her helped. Talking to her. Listening to her. He couldn’t get enough of their time together.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “I thought that was you! Come this way to the others. Lady Isla, a pleasure,” Sebastian added before nodding his head to the nearby corner.
Most of his friends had made it after all.
Ronan pushed aside any annoyance to nod, guiding them over to the corner where everyone exchanged pleasant greetings.
He braced himself for them to discuss his appearance there, but fortunately, it was ignored.
Almost like nothing was out of the ordinary.
Everyone talked cheerfully like… like it was normal.
They were even making plans. He agreed to host a picnic on his estate soon, and Isla was preparing to make flower arrangements with the ladies. There was a future for them to enjoy, one that didn’t leave Ronan fearful or hesitant.
Who was he becoming? He hardly knew.
Ronan began to enjoy himself before he knew what was happening. He even left Isla’s side momentarily to retrieve drinks for them, letting the evening wind on cheerfully.
But those cads will not have a moment of her time if I can help it.
He glared at two young men eyeing Isla curiously before turning to his wife. Ignoring everyone else, he gazed at her. “Have I told you yet that you’re the most dazzling woman here tonight?” He asked her, eyeing the warm smile on her lips.
“You flatter me,” Isla murmured, glancing around at the others in their party who were most likely looking. Not that he cared. “You shouldn’t speak thus when anyone can hear you.”
He grunted in annoyance. “You’re right. Dance with me.”
Isla blinked quickly, glancing about before looking back at him. She squinted. “Are you certain?”
Even his friends were watching them. Sebastian raised an eyebrow but then nodded like he was giving his approval. Which Ronan didn’t need.
But I suppose it is rather nice to have. Better than being a grouch again.
“Am I ever not?”
“No, but… You said you didn’t dance before others. I think you even forswore it,” she added emphatically. With her insistence came a thoughtful look of concern that amused him. “Are you evening listening to yourself?”
“I am, and I must admit that I think I am rather clever for keeping you in my arms and away from the other gentlemen. Including one headed for us now,” Ronan noted.
She started to turn around to look, but he wasn’t interested in letting her get away.
Tonight was for them. He was finally at peace after nearly losing Isla, and they deserved to enjoy themselves.
Around the next group he steered them before taking her to the edge of the dance floor just as the music was about to pick up once again for a new dance.
“This is your last chance to refuse this,” Isla murmured.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you wish to leave early,” he noted in amusement. “It’s so we can finish that book, isn’t it?”
A wry smile graced her lips. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Too ridiculous to dance with you?”
“Never,” she reassured him, following him into position. It was the waltz, a scandalous new dance that allowed more touching than most matrons in society assumed was appropriate. Not that he minded. Or she, he noted quickly. The moment they were permitted to touch, Isla was holding firmly to him.
On and on the music went, blending through the moment.
Ronan couldn’t look away from Isla. She danced well this evening, her own eyes on him.
There was something building between them that he couldn’t explain.
A sense of exhilaration left him breathless that he blamed on the dancing.
He felt young again, bashful and excited to hold a lady in his arms.
They finished the dance beautifully before the crowd shifted around them. He was thanking her for the dance and his lips wound up brushing against her forehead.
“Oh,” Isla managed breathlessly, her face flushing. She started to raise her hand up to her forehead before suddenly dropping it.
Ronan fixed his grasp on her. He wasn’t sure if he meant to apologize or say something else. Say something more. His lips tingled and he wondered if she felt that too. And he wondered what might happen if he kissed her elsewhere.
That should bother me. Frighten me, even. And yet it is all I want. All I want is her. Is it possible to care too much for someone? And yet I can’t imagine going back to what we were previously, the distance that was between us. Was it simply fear that held me back? Can I leave that all behind?
“Should we, um, go?” Isla squeaked. Her fluster was so precious he had to lock his body into place to prevent himself from kissing her again. A proper kiss perhaps. He hadn’t kissed a woman properly in a long time and right then, he realized Isla could do with a proper kiss. She deserved one.
“You’re not embarrassed, are you?” He couldn’t help asking.
She swallowed. Her accent came out with her attempt to sound less flustered. “I don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, do I?”
“I should hope not.” He turned her off toward the side as the dancers moved, displacing them from the dance floor. All the while, his eyes lingers on her pretty pink cheeks. “Does this mean you would not be embarrassed if I kissed you elsewhere?”
“What?” She asked in surprise. “Do you want to?”
He leaned forward so their faces were nearly touching. Not quite. Just enough to be a little scandalous. Just enough to inhale her scent. Just enough so she would think hard and deeply about their next kiss.
“I think I do,” he told her gravely.
There I go making plans for us again.