Page 41 of Duke of Diamonds
“Oh, children,” she said, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. “What would we do without them?”
“Indeed,” Isaac said, lifting his glass briefly before setting it down again, untouched.
For a moment, the room seemed to contract around them, the soft crackle of the hearth filling the growing silence.
Elaine’s gaze sharpened. The motherly amusement that had softened her features just moments ago gave way to something graver, something that weighed heavily between them.
“Have you given true thought to your actions, Isaac?” she asked at last, her voice low.
Isaac leaned back in his chair, one arm draped loosely along the backrest.
“I would hardly be here otherwise,” he said, his mouth curling faintly at one corner.
Elaine’s brow lifted as if to concede the point. She tipped her head slightly, studying him with that disarming mixture of affection and sternness that only an older sister could manage.
“And at such an odd hour,” she mused, tapping one finger lightly against her glass.
Isaac shrugged, the movement lazy but not without meaning.
Better odd hours than endless ones spent gnawing on regret.
“I made an offer for Lady Fiona this morning,” he said.
Elaine’s posture straightened, her fingers tightening briefly around her glass. Surprise flickered across her face before she masked it, her eyes narrowing slightly as she weighed his words.
She said nothing for a long moment, merely searching his face as though she might read more there.
Finally, she set her glass down with a soft clink.
“I trusted you would do the honorable thing, brother,” she said.
Isaac lifted his tumbler in a mock salute, the brandy catching the light.
“It is my lucky day, then,” he said dryly, taking a slow sip.
Elaine gave him a look—sharp, familiar, unamused.
“And I trust she has accepted? Her father as well?” she pressed.
Isaac lowered his glass and let out a short, humorless laugh. “Does he have a choice at this moment?” he said, his bluntness falling into the room like a stone.
Their pride has no teeth left to bare. I made certain of that.
“Of course not,” Elaine said promptly. She set her glass aside and leaned forward slightly. “And what of Canterlack?”
Isaac stiffened, the name curdling the good humor between them.
“His ties with Fiona are severed,” Isaac said, the words clipped. “And I hope he remains skulking in the shadows where he belongs.”
The bitterness rose sharp and sudden, scraping against his throat.
It should have been done years ago. I should have ended him when I had the chance.
Elaine nodded slowly, her hands smoothing the folds of her gown in an absent motion.
“I am glad you did the right thing after all,” she said.
The relief that seemed to pour from her was so palpable, so honest, that it struck Isaac harder than he expected.
