Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Isobel gasped and attempted to step away, but strong hands clamped down on her sides and kept her in place.
The heat from his touch eliminated the confusion and resistance brewing beneath her skin, and she felt herself succumb to the tingling sensation running up her spine.
The press of his lips was sure and firm, eating away at her thoughts as heat rapidly began to consume her. It felt unlike anything she had ever experienced before, her mind becoming keenly aware of him.
Isobel felt drunk on his woody, spicy scent, the fluid way his lips had begun to move against hers, his heavy grip pulling her even closer to him as her own hands found purchase on his shoulders. Her knees felt weak and unsteady and her lips parted as she panted breathlessly.
Before she had decided to try once more to comprehend what was happening, Richard’s lips lifted off hers, and his touch faded as well. Isobel inhaled deeply, her chest heaving as she stared at him, unsure if she was waiting for him to speak or for herself to find the courage to do so.
The duke cleared his throat and stood straighter, adjusting his coat with a tug on his lapels.
“I think… I think it is best if we suspend tonight’s lesson. You are clearly distressed. We shall pick it up at a later date.”
Isobel’s lips felt hot, and as she raised a hand to them, the tip of a finger tracing the edge of her bottom lip, his gaze followed. As though he was entranced by her movements.
No, that can’t be –
“Goodbye, Miss Wightman,” he rushed gruffly and swiftly left the library.
Isobel stood there, unsure of what to do or think. Eventually, the silence in the library began to feel haunting as her thoughts started to feel far too loud to only exist in her head, so she gathered her skirts and quickly rushed to her room.
It felt as though air only entered her lungs once the door was closed behind her, and she sank to the floor, heaving.
What had just happened? She recalled the argument with her father, the deep feelings of uncertainty and anger that had plagued her as she made her way to the library to see the duke.
She remembered how upsetting it was to be on the end of his belittling remarks, to be once more considered inferior to the sister whose life she was trying to protect with hers on the line.
And suddenly – Richard. His lips against hers. His hands keeping her body flush to his.
“Has he lost his mind?” Isobel muttered, pressing her hands to her hot cheeks in hopes of quelling the overwhelming sensation.
She had never felt that before – the strange calm that settled upon her after they had parted.
Yes, she had been rather confused by his actions. But… it was strange. It was almost as though… she wanted more.
“I must be losing my mind,” she gasped, smacking her cheeks.
The sharp pain helped shake off some of the lingering sensation, but it did little to erase her memory, and she groaned as she seemed to feel the ghost of his lips over hers, and a part of her ached over not being able to taste him.
“I must be exhausted. That is why I am having all these silly thoughts,” she grumbled, making her way to the boudoir with vengeance. “A good night’s rest should fix this foolishness.”
She made quick work of her clothes, stripping off the soft fabrics of the dress and slipping into her light nightdress. Then she practically stomped to her bed and slipped beneath the covers, shutting her eyes tightly.
Despite Isobel’s resolve, sleep did not find her easily, despite her determined search. No matter what she tried to do, her mind felt far too occupied to gain the peace she needed to fall asleep.
She stubbornly did not relent, tossing and turning into the night. To her dismay, she found herself too restless to settle, and her wandering mind thought of her sister.
It was strange. She was finally in the same space as her twin sister, with whom she had been separated for their whole lives.
And still, she had not faced her. A part of Isobel felt silly for thinking that she did not know what her twin sister felt like, but then she realized that perhaps it was because her heart had yet to recognize her.
Isobel wondered about her, if she was in pain still, or if perhaps her sleeping state absolved her of all pain she might have felt. Suddenly, she felt the urge to seek her out, hoping it would bring them both some comfort.
Slowly, she left her bed and pulled a dressing gown over her nightdress, quietly making her way out of her room.
The hallways were even more unfamiliar to her, with dim lighting, and she nervously made her way around, trying to recall the direction to the attic Cecil had given her earlier in the day.
Isobel made a turn down a hallway and collided with a solid body.
The suddenness of it knocked her off balance, and she stumbled backward, squealing as an arm wrapped around her waist. Instinctively, she reached out, hands pressed to his chest. Even in the semi-darkness, she could recognize those roguishly handsome features.
“You –” she exhaled, irritation filling her veins.
“Why are you wandering about in the dark?” Richard sighed, settling her back onto her feet properly.
His voice sounded even deeper now, somehow, sinking into her mind like sticky honey and leaving her momentarily stuck on what to do. The fabric of his nightshirt felt ridiculously thin, and she could feel every ripple of muscle beneath her fingertips.
“I should be asking you that. For all anyone knows, this is my house. I have every right to go wherever I please – no matter the hour. You seem awfully suspicious, sneaking around at this time.” She shot back, putting some distance between them when she noticed she could feel the heat of his body, and it sent a flash of their earlier encounter through her mind.
“I could not sleep,” Richard sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets, after they twitched rather suddenly.
“And I couldn’t help but think about Valerie.
It is strange that I have known about her condition for a little while and I have not gone to check on her condition.
At least for Adrian’s sake. I should know if there have been any changes to her condition – that way we’ll know how much longer we need to keep up this charade. ”
His lips parted, as though he had more to say, but no words more words came out. Isobel’s mood soured even more, irritated by how he cared so much about her twin, but her efforts were reduced to nothing more than a childish game.
“Perhaps if I were to just stop these charades, you would no longer have to put up with them anymore.”
Richard had quickly learned that his entire being seemed to have an… averse reaction to Isobel.
Valerie had been charming, easily catching the attention of onlookers because of her naturally virtuous personality and kind traits.
But none of that had been visible the first time he laid his eyes on Isobel. Somehow, he instantly could tell that he was staring at someone completely different, although they looked exactly the same.
This person moved with more confidence, despite the uncertainty sitting atop her brows.
This lady’s sharp gaze burned brighter than Richard had ever seen Valerie’s burn.
Everything about her was… different. And it was not the sort of change one would encounter after falling ill and being bedridden for a whole day.
And so he confronted her, hoping that somehow he was mistaken. Because it was all so strange, how he could not bear to look away from her for but a moment. How his body tensed with each direction she walked in, eyeing all whom she had engaged in conversation.
His nerves felt tightly wound up, the tension reaching its limit once she had left the dining room and he had to follow her. When he had approached her, his voice had been harsher than he had intended it to be because he did not understand why someone like her existed.
And she claimed to be Valerie’s twin sister, and it all made so much sense. Especially as she began to get on his nerves and he had to make sure he kept her in check, so he offered his assistance to aid her on her mission.
But now that he had resolved to keep a close eye on her, he had made it possible for her to worm her way under his skin.
That kiss was an example of just how seriously she impaired his ability to think clearly, and instead of apologizing for his untoward behavior earlier, he blurted out words that upset her again.
“I did not mean that the purpose of your assignment was but a joke –”
“Oh, I see. You only meant to imply that my efforts were, because I am unlike the apparently perfect Valerie. I forget, even though you have taken it upon yourself to constantly remind me what a clumsy fool I am.” Isobel shot back, somehow managing to sound angry despite the hushed tone of her voice due to the quiet stillness around them.
“Well, I do not have to point that out to you. You should know what your flaws are – self-reflection is important.” He told her, exasperated by how the conversation was going.
It would not be a difficult thing to diffuse the situation, to put an end to the pointless argument.
But this woman… she set something ablaze within him the moment he had laid his eyes on her.
And because he was still trying to understand what their reactions meant for him, such interactions felt as though they were the only outcome.
“You are a despicable man. And I hope –”
She suddenly fell silent, looking over his shoulder.
The silencing of her voice gave him a chance to hear it too – footsteps, heading towards them, approaching from the direction he had come.
Eyes wide, he grabbed her by the arms and nudged her backward, in the direction she had come from, into the corner of a wall.
Her eyes widened, and he pressed a finger to his lips, relieved when she stayed silent, allowing him to peer around the corner to see who it was that was as plagued by unrest as they were.
With his body as a shield to conceal Isobel from sight, he tried not to focus too much on their closeness but rather on what might have brought the newcomer to this part of the house.
Isobel was quiet and still for once, but being able to feel her so acutely, to be able to smell the sweetness that clung to her skin and hair, had his heart drowning in a state of unease.
Richard could only pray that he could retain some level of thought and discretion whilst they continued to work together on this case – for as long as they needed to.
although Isobel resisted greatly, it was hard not to stare up at him, not to appreciate the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft look of his brown hair. The proximity between them took away her ability to focus on much else, and in as much as she felt angry with him, the duke piqued her curiosity.
His eyes, which were usually cold, held a fire in them when he momentarily glanced at her, and she felt forced to begrudgingly admit that he was rather devastatingly handsome.
The way his strong build and broad shoulders seemed to shield her protectively, and perhaps it might have made some other woman swoon.
But certainly not Isobel. She believed it was a shame that he was so unlikable, despite his charming face. Which did not affect her whatsoever. Or at least that was what she told herself as her rapid heartbeat seemingly echoed in her throat.
‘It has nothing to do with him,’ she told herself, trying to focus on the footsteps approaching where they were hidden. ‘Absolutely nothing. He does not affect me, and I certainly do not care about how his touch seems to have branded my skin –’
Forcing herself to focus on the situation at hand, she peered over Richard’s shoulder in time to see Deborah lingering about the door to the attic. But instead of walking in, she turned around and left in the direction she had come from.
Isobel heaved a sigh of relief, momentarily wondering what her aunt had been doing and why she was doing it at this hour.
Richard exhaled, and tension flowed out of him, his shoulders lowering as he turned to say something to her. Only the words never quite made it to her ears.
As he fixed his gaze on her, their eyes met, and it felt as though time had stopped. Isobel did not know if it was due to the relief of not getting caught, but a part of her felt a little… glad to be the object of his attention.
Her heart was beating so loudly that the sound of it resonated in her head; she wondered if he could hear it as well.
After what had felt like ages, Richard cleared his throat and stepped away, his gaze slipping over hers.
“You should return to your room. It is not safe for you to be wandering about at night, without an escort or otherwise.” He told her in an icy tone. “We cannot predict what the culprit might do. It would be wiser to exercise caution.”
He was right, of course, but Isobel would rather eat a dirty sock and choke than let him know that.
So, without another word, she walked off in the direction of her room. Regardless of the confusing way her heart and body were acting, she was still upset with him, and she had no intention of relenting.
Still, the heat that had encompassed her in the moments they had shared the same breath with his body pressed over hers stayed with her, even after she had finally fallen asleep.