Page 42 of Duke of Diamonds
He cocked a brow, allowing a wry smile to pull at his mouth.
“Did you think I would not?” he asked lightly. “Your lack of faith wounds me, dear sister.”
The jest fell easily from his lips, but somewhere deep, the barb caught.
Perhaps I deserve the doubt. After all, it was my failure once that allowed so much ruin.
Elaine’s face softened at once. She reached across the small table, her fingers brushing lightly against his sleeve.
“It is not a lack of faith, Isaac. You know that,” she said firmly. “But after everything we endured... caution has become my constant companion.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgment, wordlessly pouring himself another measure of brandy. The liquid caught the light, golden and smooth, but it did little to chase the shadows crowding his mind.
The past still clings to us both, no matter how we fight it.
Elaine, perhaps sensing the weight of his thoughts, straightened and offered a smile—bright and teasing.
“Still,” she said, “all has turned out rather well, has it not? I had begun to despair of ever gaining a sister-in-law. I was almost certain you would never bother to take a wife otherwise.”
Isaac huffed a short laugh. “It is not as if I have been lacking for opportunity, sister.”
“Opportunity, perhaps,” Elaine said, her smile widening, “but never inclination.”
She tapped her chin with a thoughtful finger. “So what plans have you made now, brother? Have you set a date yet?”
Isaac shrugged with deliberate nonchalance.
“Do I need to make any more plans beyond the special licence I have already sent for?”
Elaine pulled a face and gave his arm a playful swat.
“You act as though I never taught you anything,” she scolded, feigning a look of wounded pride. “Honestly, Isaac, you must court the lady properly.”
She folded her arms and fixed him with a look that brooked no argument.
“Never mind the circumstances that led to the engagement. You must spend more time in her company, show her—and the world—that this is a match founded on more than necessity.”
Isaac gave a bland nod, his mouth tightening slightly.
Court her? Spend more time in her company?
He could not deny the odd bubble of anticipation that rose within him at the thought.
Strange.
CHAPTER 15
Fiona soon found herself swept along in a whirl of muslin and ribbons, her mother’s hand firm at her elbow as they embarked upon the arduous business of trousseau shopping.
“Stand up straight, Fiona,” Prudence murmured as they entered the crowded modiste’s shop, her own posture ramrod perfect.
Fiona obeyed, lifting her chin as she was ushered toward a dais to be measured.
As the modiste’s tape was drawn tight around her waist, murmured voices floated from the corner of the room.
“Did you hear what happened with Canterlack?” one lady said, her voice pitched just low enough to be scandalous.
Fiona stiffened, a prickle of unease crawling up her spine.
