Page 78 of Duke of Diamonds
You could walk away,she told herself.Pretend you never noticed the lie in Mrs. Burton’s voice.
But she didn’t.
CHAPTER 25
With a gentle turn of the handle, she let herself in.
What met her eyes was not the musty chaos of an overstocked storeroom. No—this was a bedchamber. A beautiful one, though time had clearly touched it. The furnishings were refined, elegant in a way that spoke of care rather than display, but the fabric on the chairs had faded, and dust clung to the corners of the mantle.
It was the paintings that stole her breath.
Canvases of all sizes rested along the walls. Some leaned on the floor, some were stacked on chairs. Several were draped in white linen cloths, but others were exposed—vivid, arresting, alive with color and emotion.
She moved slowly through the room, her fingertips grazing a painted frame. There were landscapes and, portraits andabstracts. Some incomplete, others so precise they could almost speak.
In the corner, fresh canvases waited patiently. A palette stained with dried hues sat beside jars of stiffened brushes.
Did Isaac paint?she wondered, her heart leaping with the idea.Could these be his?
A rush of excitement swept through her. The thought of him—so closed, so impenetrable—possessing such secret beauty made her chest tighten.
She turned, drawn toward a portrait half-covered by muslin, when a voice broke the silence behind her.
“Your Grace.”
Fiona spun, heart jumping. Mrs. Burton stood in the doorway, her expression stricken with something not quite disapproval—but close.
Fiona blinked, then turned back toward the nearest canvas. “I want these hung throughout the house after the renovations,” she said.
“But Your Grace...”
“I think it would be a shame to keep them here collecting dust,” Fiona cut in, not unkindly. “They deserve light. Walls. Admiration.”
She stepped back again, her eyes roaming across the colors and shapes and souls immortalized in paint. There was a thrill in her chest, strange and giddy. Like a pirate stumbling across a hoard of gold, and she had a parrot now too.
Her lips curved into a slow smile.Let the Duke return to his new world. Let him ask questions. I shall be waiting.
Isaac poured a measure of brandy into his tumbler, watching the amber liquid settle with a sort of grim satisfaction. The burn in his chest matched the one in his thoughts.
He had not been able to forget the way Fiona had looked at him on the terrace. The way her breath had caught. The way her hand had lingered over his.
It would have been so easy to close the distance between them.
Too easy.
And so he’d fled. He lifted the glass to his lips just as the butler entered.
“Mr. Samuel to see you, Your Grace.”
Isaac gave a brief nod, then turned back to the sideboard, refilling his glass.
“You suggest we travel together, and then vanish a full week ahead of schedule?” Samuel strode in with his usual lack of ceremony. “Are we calling that foresight now?”
“I had an abrupt change of plans,” Isaac replied, gesturing toward the decanter.
Samuel helped himself. “No. What you had was an abrupt flight. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
Isaac didn’t respond. The rim of his glass met his mouth again.
