Page 54 of Duke of Diamonds
Fiona lifted a gloved hand to her mouth, composing herself.
“Oh, nothing special,” she said. “Only that Elaine said something quite similar about you earlier.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“About my nosiness?”
“Oh no,” Fiona said, laughter dancing in her voice. “She spoke of your... lack of spirits instead.”
There was no delicate way to phrase it—but then, she doubted Craton would value delicacy.
Isaac shook his head, a rueful smile ghosting his mouth.
“She is as relentless as she is nosy,” he said, giving the reins a light flick.
Fiona stole a glance at him, noting the firm set of his jaw and the easy, unhurried way he handled the reins. There was something reassuring in his presence—a quiet steadiness she had not expected to admire. She caught herself, dropping her gaze to her lap and smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her skirts.
“I suppose it must be a sibling thing,” she said after a moment. “What is it like?” she asked, her voice low, almost hesitant. “To have a sibling?”
Isaac gave a huff that could have been a laugh, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
“Oh, it is the worst thing imaginable,” he said.
Fiona arched a brow but said nothing, sensing more would follow.
After a pause, he added, “And the best thing possible.”
There was a softness to his words now, and a curiously wistful distance clouded his gaze.
Fiona shifted in her seat, feeling a sudden hollow ache within her chest.
What must it be like to have someone always there? Someone bound to you not by duty or convenience, but by affection?
She would never know. Her childhood had been a lonely one—a series of silent meals and careful steps, always watched, always judged. No partner in mischief. No ally to share whispered secrets with.
A longing stirred within her—a wish she had buried long ago. To have a family. A large, boisterous one. A house full of laughter and quarrels and reconciliations.
But that dream seemed as distant now as the stars.
Especially with the man beside her—a stranger she was to wed. A man whose heart, she feared, might never be hers.
Isaac’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“Did you ever wish for a sibling?” he asked.
Fiona traced the embroidery on her glove, considering. “I never gave it much thought growing up,” she said slowly. “But lately... yes. Lately, I have found myself wishing for it.”
Isaac glanced at her then, and something unreadable flashed in his eyes. He tightened his grip on the reins, his mouth pressing into a thin line.
He sees it,Fiona thought.He sees the loneliness I try so hard to hide.
And perhaps—perhaps he remembered, too, the bruise she had worn when last they met. The price she had paid for being alone in the world.
Fiona shifted slightly, smoothing the folds of her skirt, a prickling self-consciousness creeping over her.
Let it not be pity I see in his eyes.The thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
Isaac adjusted the reins with a careful hand. “Elaine was always dragging me into her chaos,” he said, his mouth tilting into something close to a smile. “I spent half my youth pulling her out of one scrape after another.”
