Page 55 of Duke of Diamonds
Fiona glanced at him from beneath her lashes, catching the faint softening of his expression.
“She speaks fondly of you,” she said.
Isaac gave a low chuckle. “She embellishes more than she ought. I was merely the long-suffering brother who tried to prevent her from setting the house ablaze.”
Fiona laughed lightly, and he continued, the lines around his mouth easing further.
“Now, of course, she has her own terrors to manage. Rebecca fancies herself a pirate these days. She staged a mutiny against her nurse only last week.”
Fiona pressed a gloved hand to her mouth, stifling her mirth.
“And David?” she asked.
Isaac’s gaze softened even more. “David believes himself the guardian of all. He insists upon escorting his sister even to the breakfast table, lest the ‘goblins’ steal her away.” He shook his head, though a clear fondness lingered in his voice. “He is all seriousness and solemnity. I fear for what he shall become once he is truly of age.”
Fiona’s chest warmed at the picture he painted—a man who hid loyalty and affection beneath layers of indifference.
He cares deeply,she thought, surprised.More deeply than I ever imagined.
And with that realization, a stubborn flame of hope stirred within her.
Perhaps, underneath it all, the beast possesses a heart after all.
She watched him from the corner of her eye—the firm line of his jaw, softened now by memory, and the steady strength of his hands on the reins.
Dare I reach for the sound of that heart?
The carriage rolled through the bustling streets of London, the genial afternoon light casting a golden haze over the city, and Fiona found herself pondering the answer.
“You are terribly quiet,” Isaac said after a moment, glancing her way. “Have I bored you into a stupor?”
Fiona smiled, tilting her head. “Not at all. I was merely marveling at your hidden depths, Your Grace.”
He lifted a brow. “Hidden depths?”
“Indeed. I had thought you merely a brooding figure who scowled more than he smiled.”
“A flattering portrait,” he drawled. “And what am I now, in your expert estimation?”
“Marginally less brooding,” Fiona replied, a mischievous sparkle lighting her gaze. “And perhaps only slightly terrifying.”
A laugh rumbled from Isaac, low and genuine.
“You wound me, Lady Fiona.”
“I believe you shall recover,” she said sweetly.
Isaac turned more fully toward her, the reins slack in his hands, his gaze steady.
“I might—if you promise not to think too ill of me.”
Fiona felt an unfamiliar warmth bloom in her chest but held his gaze without flinching.
“That depends entirely on your future conduct,” she said.
“Then I must endeavor to charm you yet,” he murmured, his mouth curving into a smile that was entirely too wicked for her peace of mind.
The carriage turned onto a quieter lane, the clatter of hooves muffled by softer streets. For a moment, it felt as though they were the only two souls in the world.
