Page 79 of Duke of Diamonds
“If not for your obstinacy, you shouldn’t be in Scotland at all. Honeymoon, remember?” Samuel handed him a glass. “And before you mention the mill again—I told you I would oversee the site.”
Isaac gave a shrug. “My Duchess does not mind.”
Samuel tilted his head. “She told you that, did she?”
Isaac paused. His fingers curled tighter around the tumbler.
“She didn’t know about the trip.”
Samuel, who had just reached for the brandy, stopped mid-motion.
“You left for a fortnight,” he said slowly, “without informing your wife.”
Isaac adjusted the cuffs of his coat, though they had no need of adjusting. He disliked how idle his hands felt when Samuel was looking at him like that—as if he were a boy caught stealing jam from the larder.
“Initially, she did not know, of course,” Isaac said, rolling his shoulder in a way that did little to dispel the tightness gathering there. “But I daresay she does now, having read the note I left her.”
Samuel blinked. Once. Twice.
Then his brows rose with such force, Isaac half expected them to lift clean off his forehead.
“You truly have not the faintest idea what marriage entails, do you, Craton?”
Isaac turned from the window, arms folding across his chest. “You make it sound rather like a grand chore.”
“Itis,” Samuel returned without missing a beat. “Hardly a chore, mind you—but everything about it is as grand as it is sacred. And informing your wife of your travel plans—personally—sitsrather near the top of your responsibilities, I should think. One does not simply disappear and leave a note as if absconding from a house party.”
Isaac snorted. “Good Lord. You sound precisely like Elaine.”
Samuel gave a shrug and reached for his gloves, slapping them lightly against his palm. “Well, Iammarried to her. One cannot help but absorb a few of her more pointed opinions after twelve years.”
Isaac turned away again, his gaze drifting toward the fire, though the flames offered little warmth. He hadn’t thought it would be such an offense, leaving Fiona a note.
“Opinions?” Isaac echoed, shooting Samuel a sidelong glance. “You’re not merely influenced by my sister—you’ve become her mirror.”
He gave a sharp snort, and they both laughed, the sound echoing in the study like boys escaping discipline.
Samuel leaned back in his chair, but the mirth slipped from his face as easily as one might fold away a letter.
“So,” he said, “how have you been, man?”
Isaac gave a long breath, shoulders dipping under the weight of something he could not name. “Navigating the waters.”
Samuel studied him. “You’re nervous.”
“I am not,” Isaac said quickly, too quickly. His back straightened, arms folding in a way that suggested a man warding off both cold and scrutiny.
Samuel raised a brow but said nothing at first. He simply took a slow sip from his glass, letting the silence stretch until it nearly touched awkwardness.
“It’s only natural, Craton. There’s no shame in it. We all begin marriage with more questions than answers. But in time, and with a bit of patience, it clears. Mostly.”
Isaac looked away, jaw clenched.What if I do not wish to wait for clarity? What if I simply want... her?
His thoughts turned to Fiona. Not just her face, or her laughter that night on the terrace, but the way her hand had fit in his. The way she had looked at him, not as a duke, not even as a man of means—but as if he were just Isaac. And somehow, that had felt heavier than all the titles in England.
He shifted his weight, uncomfortable.
“Shall we go inspect the new shipment?” he asked abruptly, already reaching for his coat.
