Page 113 of Duke of Diamonds
He handed it to her, watching as she accepted it with both hands, her fingers brushing reverently across the worn cover. Her breath caught faintly as she opened to a page, eyes skimming the inked lines.
Moments passed.
Then a tear dropped onto the parchment.
“Elaine,” Isaac said softly, reaching across the desk.
“Mary had been happy,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on the page. “She did not deserve the fate she met.”
Her shoulders trembled as more tears welled. “All for what? For placing her trust in a man who betrayed her heart.”
“If only I had been there for her...”
“You did what you could, Elaine. We both did. There is no changing what came to pass,” Isaac said, rising and crossing toher side. He drew her into a quiet embrace, resting his chin against her hair as she wept.
Mary had seen little hope for herself after their father died and left the family in financial ruin. She had chosen love. She had chosen him... That wretch
But he had not chosen her back.
“Why must it always be me?” Isaac protested, lifting his hands with exaggerated incredulity.
Elaine offered a knowing smile. “Well, you did say it is not something a physician could remedy.”
“So naturally, you presume I must be the ailment?” he asked, though the corner of his mouth twitched with reluctant amusement.
“Well, you are a handful, little brother. You have always been,” she replied, her tone light but laced with affection.
Isaac chuckled despite himself, the tension in his shoulders easing for a moment. But it did not last.
“I gave Fiona the key to the room,” he said, his voice quieter now.
Elaine’s brow furrowed for a heartbeat before comprehension dawned.
“You did well, Isaac.”
“She found something,” he continued, opening the drawer at his side and withdrawing the small leather-bound journal.
He handed it to her, watching as she accepted it with both hands, her fingers brushing reverently across the worn cover. Her breath caught faintly as she opened to a page, eyes skimming the inked lines.
Moments passed.
Then a tear dropped onto the parchment.
“Elaine,” Isaac said softly, reaching across the desk.
“Mary had been happy,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on the page. “She did not deserve the fate she met.”
Her shoulders trembled as more tears welled. “All for what? For placing her trust in a man who betrayed her heart.”
“If only I had been there for her...”
“You did what you could, Elaine. We both did. There is no changing what came to pass,” Isaac said, rising and crossing to her side. He drew her into a quiet embrace, resting his chin against her hair as she wept.
Mary had seen little hope for herself after their father died and left the family in financial ruin. She had chosen love. She had chosen him... That wretch.
But he had not chosen her back.
Isaac had only been sixteen at the time. He could scarcely offer her more than fierce promises and a boy’s conviction. She had looked elsewhere, and who could blame her? He had not been enough then.
