Page 39 of Duke of Diamonds
Isaac stepped into the front hall just in time to witness the household’s nurse spinning in agitated circles, her cap askew as she searched.
At the sight of him, the poor woman dropped into a quick, flustered curtsey before resuming her frantic hunt.
A small sound—a muffled giggle—floated from behind a nearby shelf.
The nurse’s head snapped toward the noise, but Isaac lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for her to hold her place. She paused, nodding quickly.
Suppressing a smile, Isaac folded his arms and surveyed the room with exaggerated gravity.
“Oh, it is quite late indeed,” he said, his voice pitched to carry, “and time, I daresay, for the goblins to come out.”
“Indeed it is, Your Grace,” the nurse said, catching on at once.
From behind the shelf came a tiny gasp, quickly stifled. Isaac bit back a grin.
Got you now, little imp.
“Was the little boy they took with them last week ever found, Miss Eveson?” Isaac inquired, his tone one of somber concern.
“I am afraid not, Your Grace,” Miss Eveson replied sorrowfully, wringing her hands for effect. “Word has it he is now a prisoner among the goblin folk.”
A slight rustle behind the shelf betrayed Rebecca’s distress at such a grim fate. Isaac allowed a slow smile to curve his lips, content to let the game unfold a moment longer.
Suddenly, Rebecca burst from her hiding place, her small feet pattering across the hall.
“I do not want to be the next goblin prisoner!” she cried, flinging herself at him.
She was already clad in her nightclothes, her hair a tumble of golden curls against his dark coat as she buried her face against him.
Isaac caught her easily, wrapping one arm around her slight frame.
“Oh, but I thought you wished to join the goblin party this evening,” he said, crouching slightly so that his voice rumbled near her ear. “Is that not why you are out of bed at such a scandalous hour, Rebecca dear?”
The nurse, lingering nearby, gave him a look of immense gratitude.
Rebecca shook her head vigorously, her small hands fisting into the fabric of his coat.
“Goblins are frightful,” she mumbled. “I do not wish to go with them, Uncle Isaac.”
“Fear not, sweetheart,” Isaac said, gently prying her from his coat and handing her over to Miss Eveson. “We shall not let them take you tonight. But you must return to bed, or they might find you yet.”
Rebecca sniffled, nodded solemnly, and accepted Miss Eveson’s hand without further protest.
Isaac straightened, dusting his hands against his breeches, only to spot another small figure descending the stairs.
David.
The boy crept down, his bare feet silent against the polished wood, his nightshirt billowing around his thin frame.
Isaac arched a brow. “And what, pray, are you doing out of bed, young man?”
David froze, one foot poised midair, caught between guilt and defiance. His sheepish smile—a mirror of Rebecca’s—tilted across his face.
“I came looking for Rebecca,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Isaac crossed his arms, one brow still quirked.
An admirable excuse. If only it were true.
