Page 38 of Duke of Diamonds
There is a magnanimity in him. A goodness he keeps hidden, even from himself. A side I would very much like to know.
Perhaps even a side the world ought to see.
Nancy nodded slowly, smoothing an invisible crease from her gown. “I suppose you are right,” she said thoughtfully.
Anna moved closer, the bed dipping under her weight. “If this is what you truly wish, Fiona,” she said, her hand warm atop Fiona’s, “then we are here—utterly and completely.”
Hester gave a quick, jerky nod. “We simply want you to be safe.”
Fiona managed a smile, though it trembled at the edges. “I will be. I am certain of it.”
Or at least, more certain than I have been of anything else.
“The Duke is safe,” she added quietly. “Safer than Canterlack. And—” her voice dipped, almost a whisper, “—certainly safer than my father.”
That earned her a trio of fierce embraces, her friends wrapping their arms around her tightly, as if they could shield her from all the hurt that had already been done.
For a moment, Fiona allowed herself to lean into them, to draw strength from their loyalty.
Hester pulled back first, brushing at her skirts. “Now that I think on it,” she said, tapping a finger against her lips, “nothing has been heard of Canterlack since last night. It is as though he has vanished.”
Fiona tilted her head, considering this news, but found—to her faint surprise—that it roused no feeling at all.
Let him disappear. Let him vanish from my life as if he had never darkened it.
She cared nothing for his fate. She was free of him. Or so she prayed.
“So—” Hester said, her face lighting with mischief as they settled back onto the bed, “when is the wedding?”
The question sent the others into fits of teasing, each tossing out absurd guesses about gowns and flowers and the number of guests.
Fiona smiled, laughed even when required, but she felt oddly apart from it all, as though she watched them through a pane of glass.
I am saved, am I not?
Then why do I feel as though I have stepped from one prison into another?
CHAPTER 14
Isaac paid little heed to where his boots carried him as he strode through the dim streets of London. His mind churned with the events of the morning, each thought circling back to the same stubborn truth.
Offering for Fiona had been the right thing—the only honorable thing—he thought grimly.
She needed protection. And I... I needed to make certain no further harm would ever touch her.
The clatter of carriage wheels and the murmur of passing pedestrians barely registered as he pressed onward, his head bent slightly against the evening chill.
It was only when he lifted his gaze that he realized where he had wandered. The familiar facade of his sister’s townhouse rose before him, the windows glowing softly against the gloom.
He stood a moment, considering. The hour was well past dinner; visiting now bordered on the improper. Yet he had come this far.
And perhaps Rebecca’s company is precisely what I require to remind myself there is still some good in the world.
Drawing a breath, he mounted the steps and rapped smartly on the door.
The butler answered promptly, bowing low as he stepped aside to admit him.
“Oh, my lady Rebecca, do come out! It is well past your bedtime,” a harried voice cried from within.
