Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Morning came far too quickly, bringing with it a hearty breakfast and Isobel's continued gentle probing about the duke who had captured so much of her younger sister's attention.
“I still think you should give him a chance,” Isobel said as they sat together in the sun room, watching the children play in the garden through the large windows. “Sometimes love comes from the most unlikely sources.”
“Why must everyone insist on pairing us together? You and my friend Penelope have this idea that – it doesn’t matter! This is not about love,” Nora protested, but the words felt hollow even to her own ears.
Isobel simply smiled, that knowing, maddening smile that older sisters seemed to perfect. “If you say so, dear. But I would advise you to trust your instincts. Keep your heart open. You might be surprised by what you find.”
The words stayed with Nora throughout the carriage ride back to London. Trust her instincts. Keep her heart open.
But her instincts where Godric was concerned seemed determined to lead her into dangerous territory, and keeping her heart open to him felt like inviting certain heartbreak.
Still, as the familiar streets of London came into view, Nora felt a flutter of nervous anticipation in her stomach. Whatever awaited her, she would face it head-on. That was simply who she was.
The carriage pulled up in front of her house, and Nora was entirely unsurprised to see a familiar, tall, broad-shouldered figure standing near her front steps.
Godric.
He was leaning against the iron railing with his arms crossed, his expression thunderous. When he saw her carriage arrive, he straightened, and even from this distance, Nora could feel the intensity of his glare.
She took her time disembarking, deliberately slow in her movements, allowing the footman to help her down with exaggerated care. When she finally turned to face Godric, she arranged her features into an expression of mild surprise.
“Your Grace,” she said breezily. “What brings you here this morning?”
“Where were you?” His voice was tight, controlled, but she could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Where were you?” He repeated, each word was enunciated with careful precision, as though he were speaking to someone particularly slow-witted.
“Was it not clear that I was out? That is strange, I was certain you would have been informed of my absence if you had made it known to my staff that you wished to see me.”
She tried to slip past him, but he stepped into her path, much to her chagrin, but she remained calm, enjoying how upset he seemed.
“I gave you specific orders. I told you that you were not to go anywhere without me henceforth, and you decide that the best way to adhere to my instructions is to disappear for a whole day?”
“I did not realize your intentions were to be put into effect so soon. I thought I would have more time to prepare myself to be shadowed closely by the guard I had been opposed to from the start. So I went to celebrate the end of my peace and freedom. I do not understand why that would have upset you so.” She stated casually, batting her eyelashes at him.
“I will only ask this once more,” he gritted, “Where were you?”
Nora lifted her chin. “I visited my sister. Is that a crime now?”
“You were supposed to inform me of any plans to leave the city,” Godric said, taking a step toward her. “We had an agreement.”
“We had no such thing,” Nora countered. “You issued an order, and I chose not to follow it. There is a difference.”
She tried to brush past him again, intending to escape into the safety of her house, but Godric's hand shot out and caught her wrist. The contact sent electricity shooting up her arm, and she hated her body's immediate response to his touch.
“Nora.” His voice had dropped to that low, dangerous register that made her shiver. “Do not play games with me.”
“I am doing no such thing,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the rapid beating of her heart. “I simply went to visit my sister. I am allowed to have a life that does not revolve around you, Your Grace.”
She was too aware of his closeness to her, of the warmth of his hand on her wrist, of the way his blue eyes seemed to see straight through her carefully constructed defenses.
“That is not –” Godric stopped, seeming to struggle with his words. His grip on her wrist tightened fractionally. “You cannot simply disappear without telling anyone where you are going.”
“I told Annabelle,” Nora pointed out. “And the coachman. And – ”
“I meant you cannot disappear without telling me,” Godric interrupted, and there was something raw in his expression now, something that looked almost like fear.
“Do you have any idea what I thought when I came here yesterday evening and was told you had left for the night? When no one could tell me exactly where you had gone?”
The confession caught Nora off guard. “You... you were worried?”
“Of course I was worried,” Godric snapped. “After learning about your midnight adventures, did you expect me to simply assume you were safe?”
Something warm unfurled in Nora's chest, a dangerous, hopeful thing that she immediately tried to squash down. He was worried. He had been concerned for her safety. That had to mean something, did it not?
“I am perfectly fine,” she said, gentler now. “I was with Isobel the entire time.”
Godric's jaw clenched. “That is not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
Before he could answer, Nora remembered that she had plans for the day. “Oh! I nearly forgot. I have other plans for today, so we must table this discussion for another time.”
She tried to leave, but he maintained the firm grip he had on her wrist, keeping her in place despite her attempts to put some space between them.
“I am starting to despise you,” Nora seethed.
Unfazed, the duke asked, “What are these plans? You have only just arrived, where are you going now?”
Nora sighed, deep and long suffering, “I am supposed to meet Penelope and Jane for shopping this afternoon. We are going to purchase some things for the season’s events.”
“I will escort you,” Godric said immediately, finally releasing his grip on her.
It was not a question. Nora opened her mouth to argue, then caught the stubborn set of his jaw and thought better of it. He would not be swayed, and honestly, part of her – a very foolish part – was glad he would be there.
“Very well,” she conceded. “But you must promise to remain a respectful distance away. I do not want you hovering over us the entire time. You will make my friends uncomfortable.”
“I will remain as close as I deem necessary to ensure your safety.”
“Your Grace –”
“That is my final word on the matter.”
Nora huffed but did not argue further. Without another word, she went inside to freshen up and prepare for the afternoon, trying to ignore the way her pulse had quickened at the prospect of spending even more time in Godric's company.
“I cannot believe he insisted on coming along,” Penelope said, glancing over her shoulder as they walked down the street in the direction of the modiste’s shop.
“I am frankly surprised he let me step out of the house at all. I feel as though I am very close to being confined to the walls of my home for all eternity.” Nora sighed tiredly.
Surprisingly, Godric had not wanted to stick as closely as Nora expected him to. He had greeted her friends in his usual, well-mannered airs, and then he proceeded to trail after them, lingering a few feet behind.
Her friends had been stunned by his presence, but to Nora’s disappointment, they were not opposed to it. They kept looking over their shoulders, shooting fascinated glances at him.
“He is very handsome,” Jane whispered, not for the first time. “And so mysterious. That serious expression, those intense eyes...”
“He looks like he could murder someone without blinking,” Penelope observed, though she sounded more intrigued than frightened. “I am fascinated by him.”
“Please stop talking about him as though he is not right there,” Nora hissed, her cheeks burning.
“He is too far away to hear us,” Jane assured her, eyes lighting up the next moment as she leaned in. “But Nora, you must tell us – have you made any progress with your mission to make him show some emotion?”
Nora thought about the night in his study, about the way he had touched her, the way he had made her beg and writhe and ultimately shatter in his arms. If that was not emotion, she did not know what was.
But she certainly could not tell her friends about that.
“He remains as unmovable as a rock,” she said instead, putting on a smile as they entered the modiste’s shop.
The older woman greeted them warmly, urging them to browse for whatever it was that they liked and to call her attention if they needed anything.
She glanced at the door where the duke stood, but said nothing about his presence, much to Nora’s relief, as she did not wish to explain why he was there.
After the modiste had given them some bolts of fabric to peruse, leaving for a moment to get some more, their previous discussion continued.
“Pity,” Penelope said. “I expected you would have better luck.”
“I told you that the idea was silly from the start. He has been impossible to speak to, and all my efforts to get him to feel something – anything have only led me to disappointment. I am honestly not sure he is even human.” Nora complained.
Jane’s gaze subtly shifted in the duke’s direction once more, and she sighed dreamily.
“At least you have been so close to one of the most handsome men in London. Many would kill to be in your shoes.” She remarked.
“They are more than welcome to it,” Nora grumbled, only half meaning the words that had left her mouth.