Page 96 of Duke of Diamonds
He didn’t answer.
She tilted her head back to look at him, but he stared beyond her, unseeing, lips parted just slightly as though caught in the middle of a word he’d forgotten how to say.
“It was barely a stumble,” she tried again. “I didn’t even bruise. Look?—”
Still no response. Just the low, rhythmic thrum of the carriage wheels and the sound of his heart, fast and uneven beneath her ear.
He’s not here. Not really. Not yet.
She laid her hand lightly on his chest, pressing against it, trying to ground him. But his eyes remained distant.
When the carriage finally drew up at Craton Manor, he shifted only to open the door himself. Ignoring the footman, he stepped down and carried her with him, soaked skirts and all, as if she weighed nothing at all.
“Isaac—”
“Hold on.”
He ascended the front steps with purpose, boots squelching against the marble, his shoulders stiff, his silence deafening.
Servants scattered. Fiona caught a glimpse of Miss Jameson’s alarmed expression and the butler’s furrowed brow, but Isaac saw none of it. He carried her through the front doors and up the stairs as if the world had narrowed to one task alone.
Only when they entered her chamber and the door closed behind them did she finally raise her voice.
“We’re safe now, Isaac,” she said clearly, her voice cutting through the haze of his muttered thoughts. “We’re home. Safe.”
He stopped.
His gaze unfocused, blinking rapidly as if waking from some distant place.
And slowly, with care, he knelt and set her down on the thick rug before the hearth.
The door creaked open. Mrs. Burton appeared, breathless. “Is all well, Your Graces?”
Isaac straightened. “Have the hearth lit. At once.”
She gave a quick nod and vanished.
“We must get you warm,” he muttered, and without pause, turned her gently and began undoing the buttons down her back.
Fiona startled. “Isaac?—”
But his fingers worked swiftly, without hesitation, slipping each fastening loose with practical precision. Her bodice slackened around her shoulders, and cool air rushed over her damp skin.
A shiver ran through her. Not from the temperature.
Then his hands brushed the small of her back, and everything stilled.
CHAPTER 30
Fiona turned slowly, the feel of Isaac’s hands still lingering at her spine. Her heart pounded like a warning drum as she looked up at him.
He was so close, yet something about him seemed unreachable now; his eyes were wide, staring at her as though he had only just realized he’d stepped too close to the edge of something dangerous and irreversible.
His chest rose once, sharply, before he stepped back.
Without a word, he rose, movements stiff and abrupt, as though scalded. He turned from her with the briskness of a man retreating from a battlefield he could not win.
“You can finish on your own,” he said, not meeting her gaze. “Change into dry clothing. Immediately. You must be warm.”
