Diana laughed then, too, her concerns washed away by his words. She was indeed a fool but not because he was laughing at her, rather because she suspected him of ill intent. He was too gentle, too friendly, too loving for that, and she knew it.
“I cannot always hide in gardens,” she said. “Although I do try as much as I can.”
“No, not always, but I don’t blame you for wanting to. I am quite the same.”
“You know,” she said. “There is another thing I am yet to do in this conversation of ours, Your Grace.”
“And what is that?”
“I have not chastised you for any misdemeanor.” She looked up at him, smiling, teasing. “Although I have wanted to, of course.”
“I suspect you could chastise me all day long and not tire of it,” he said, laughing.
“Perhaps,” she said. “But in truth, I’d rather combine the chastisement with a little lighter conversation, too.”
“As you wish, My Lady,” he said, bowing to her. “Perhaps you will join me in sneaking out now? Into the gardens, I mean. It’s rather stuffy in here. I’d like to take some air, but it would be much more pleasant if I had your company.”
“Yes,” she said, without even needing to think. As if she could have ever said anything different. Not to Isaac. “All right, Your Grace. We can take a walk.”
“That sounds delightful. Do you think you can get away from your Sister’s attention?”
Diana glanced over at Celine, so deeply engrossed in conversation with Lord Percival, still, that she could have forgotten the whole world existed.
“I think—” Diana said, nodding in Celine’s direction. Isaac glanced over his shoulder.
“Ah,” Isaac said. “Last week, you told me your Sister thought she was in love already. Am I wrong in assuming her suitor would be Lord Percival?”
“It is awfully obvious, isn’t it?” Diana said, almost grimacing. She sipped at the drink in her hand, looking at him over the rim of the glass.
“It’s sweet,” Isaac said. “He so clearly is besotted with her, too. I have no doubt they shall be married before the year is out.”
“I would like that. She deserves some happiness. But in answer to your question—yes, I am certain I can slip her attentions. Shall we walk?”
“Let’s,” he said.
They walked in silence, slipping out of the room and onto the terrace at the front of the house. It was not until they had cornered the building and were out of sight that they spoke again, but both at the same time.
“It was—”
“I am—”
“I’m sorry,” Isaac said, laughing. “What was it you wanted to say?”
“No, really,” she replied. “I was only going to reiterate how lovely a meal it was. I’m sure it was nothing as important as what you wished to say.”
“It was indeed a lovely meal,” he said. “And it was no more important than what I wanted to say. I only meant to tell you how I’m having a wonderful day.” They fell into silence again, the only sounds their footsteps on the gravel and the birdsong in the sky.
She could feel a bond growing between them, their arms so close to touching, as though it was a physical thing bridging them and pulling them together. It sent shivers through her, and an excitement she only ever felt when she was with him. He was truly wonderful in every way, and she would be devastated if her father matched her with another.
She forced that thought out of her head, the memory of her father that very morning, furious and declaring his intent to see her married to anyone, regardless of whether she loved him or not.
“I’m so glad to see you here,” she said finally, breaking the silence with her meek words, but she had been unable stop them from tumbling out of her, a little secret she had to share.
“And I you,” he said.
He stopped and turned to her, looking into her eyes, and she felt her knees go weak. He was so handsome, his brown eyes rich and delicious as chocolate, his raven-black hair poking out foppishly. She looked up at him, stretching her neck to reach him, pushing up from her toes, and she let her lips touch his, softly and sweetly, before falling back down onto her heels.
They gazed at each other a moment longer, conveying in that look all that they wished was to come, and Diana felt completely and utterly smitten. This was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and if she had her way it would happen sooner rather than later.
“You know, Diana,” Isaac said, turning to continue their walk. He spoke without looking at her, the words hard to get out, and she felt somehow the importance of the moment. “I have never felt like this before. I didn’t even realize it was possible to feel like this.”
“No,” Diana agreed. “It is like something from a romantic novel. It is…I cannot explain it.”
“It feels right,” he said simply, and she nodded.
That’s exactly what it was, exactly how she felt. There was a certainty within her that wasn’t there before, a conviction that they were meant to be together. Being with Isaac was both exciting and new, and comfortable and natural all at the same time. He calmed her soul as much as he thrilled it.
“I think of you with every breath I take,” he said. “You even appear in my dreams.”
His dreams? The thought made her hot with passion and she swallowed. Could his dreams be as impure as mine?
“You have become so much more than a friend to me,” he continued, a vague quiver in his voice.
Is he nervous?
“I want to be with you always,” he said, still unable to make eye contact with her.
“You mean?” She couldn’t breathe. This was the moment that changed everything, the moment that decided the rest of her life. He stopped walking again, turned back to look at her.
“Diana, if you are accepting, I wish to write to your father and ask him for your hand in marriage. I understand he is not keen on visitors, and so writing would be prudent, I suspect.”
“I—” she couldn’t speak. All she could think was how perfect Isaac was, how she wanted to be by his side every day for the rest of their lives. Images of their future flashed through her mind, of their wedding day and their children and their happy future beyond. But right then, in that moment, she couldn’t speak and she saw the worry on his face.
“I…I am sorry if I have spoken out of turn,” he said. “I thought that was something you wished, too, but perhaps…perhaps I am wrong.”
“No,” she gushed. “No, goodness me, no.”
“I see,” he said, and she saw the sadness in his eyes, the deflated way he held himself.
It made her giggle, reminded her of the conversation they’d had the week previously. Whenever he rendered her speechless, he assumed the worst, and Diana found that an endearing quality.
“No, I don’t mean no, I mean yes. I mean…heavens, I’m getting in a muddle.” She stopped and closed her eyes as she took a calming breath. The confusion on his face made her all the more tongue-tied. “I mean to say that no, you are not wrong and yes, I would dearly love for you to write to my Father.”
“All right,” he said, holding himself higher and smiling down at her, a victor’s smile. “All right.”
Chapter 19
Isaac leaned back in his chair, the quill tickling his lips as he thought. His study was large and neatly arranged, each paper and each book in just the right place. At one end of the room was a large window, although it was draped with muslin to keep the too-bright sunlight out and distracting him from his work. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and the only furniture in there was a large desk and a single chair at which he sat. He kept it simple and unadorned but well-organized, much like his mind.
He sighed, reading once again through the letter he had written to the Earl of Estnell. He had requested a meeting at the Earl’s earliest convenience. He had not mentioned his intention, preferring instead to reveal that in person, but he did express the importance of haste.
He was
not happy with the letter he had written, but he had already re-written it twice, unsure what to say. He was asking the man who murdered his father for his daughter’s hand in marriage. It was not a situation he had been in before—nor, he imagined, had many people.
He folded the letter and then he held a bar of red wax to the candle until it dripped onto the fold and sealed it. He pushed his stamp into the cooling wax, leaving the Gallonon crest clear within it, and then he rang the bell behind him to request the attendance of the butler.
There was barely a minute’s wait before Hobbes arrived and Isaac smiled at him. He was lucky to have such reliable and dedicated staff.
“You rang, Your Grace?”
“Yes,” he said, handing the letter over to him. “See to it that this missive gets to the Earl of Estnell as rapidly as possible. It is of the utmost importance. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Hobbes took the letter and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him as he went.
Isaac watched the back of the door a while, watching the letter leaving his person, and he wondered if he had done the right thing. If it were not for the plan, he was sure this was the best thing. He could no longer deny he was in love with Diana, and he dearly wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
And on the other hand, too. If it were not for his love of Diana, he would be certain of his course of action. The plan he and Thomas had worked on for so long was coming to fruition, and for that he should be glad, but instead all he felt was a stabbing guilt and fear of what the outcome could possibly be.
Isaac groaned and let his head fall into his hands. He had got himself into quite a pickle and he had no idea how he would get himself out of it. Part of him hoped that if he ignored the problem, it would simply solve itself.
If only.
As if he knew Isaac was thinking of him, Thomas poked his head around the door, not knocking, much to Isaac’s chagrin.
“Good morning, Brother,” Thomas said, his voice bright and his expression happy. Isaac blinked in surprise at his brother’s good spirits. It happened so rarely that, while good, made Isaac question what was going on.
“Thomas, good morning,” he said. “Come in. You seem well.”
“I am well,” Thomas said as he closed the door. He perched on the edge of the desk, twisting his neck to see Isaac. “Isn’t it time you got another chair in here?”
“This room is not for socializing,” Isaac said. “A chair for myself alone is sufficient.”
“But look how uncomfortable it is when I come in for a conversation,” Thomas said. Isaac looked at him for a moment, his expression blank and his thoughts lost at Thomas’ logic.
“How can I help you?” Isaac said, finally.
“I haven’t seen you for a few days,” Thomas said. “That’s all. I thought I’d see how you are.”
“I’m well enough, thank you.” Thomas’ good mood made Isaac suspicious and he watched him carefully.
“Have you had a productive day?” Thomas asked.
“Yes, thank you. And you, Thomas? Have you done anything productive lately?”
“What is there for me to be productive with? I am not the Duke like you, I have nothing with which to occupy myself.”
“Well perhaps you should consider finding employment,” Isaac said, although he had said it many times before and it had had no effect. “Then you would find plenty to be productive with.”
“I would not need to if I was the Duke,” Thomas muttered. Isaac stared at him in shock. He had never before heard Thomas discuss the Dukedom before, and certainly not with such bitterness and resentment.
“What do you mean, if you were Duke? It is not your birthright as it is mine. You could never be Duke.”
“I could if you were dead,” Thomas said with a shrug. Isaac gasped, wide-eyed with alarm.
“If I were dead?” he asked, his voice squeaking with horror. “Is that what you wish, Brother?”
Thomas laughed, half embarrassed and half with good humor, waving away Isaac’s concerns.
“I meant nothing by it, Brother. It was nothing but jest. Is it not natural for me to wonder what it would have been like, if I had been born first?”
“But you were not,” Isaac said, eyeing him suspiciously. “There is no purpose in wondering for it shall never happen. You would be better pressed to find your own path in life—your own employment or occupation rather than coveting mine. Besides, it is my Son who will become the next Duke,” Isaac said finally.
“You don’t have a son.”
“Yet.” Isaac avoided Thomas’ gaze. He knew how his brother felt about marriage and families. It was something that would come after their plan and never before. If he wanted to have a son, it would have to be later in his life—or against his brother’s wishes.
“Speaking of marriage,” Thomas said, his tone returned to lightness again. “How is going with the Lady Diana?”
Thomas picked up a sheet of paper from the desk, perusing it vaguely before throwing it back onto the desk, then he looked up at Isaac. Isaac sighed and put the paper back in its place as Thomas picked up his quill, examining it closely.
“It’s going surprisingly well,” Isaac said, snatching the quill from him. His jaw was tense with irritation now, and Isaac found himself wondering which was more irritating—Thomas sullen, or Thomas cheerful.
“I had no doubt you would succeed,” Thomas said with a grin. “You are a charmer and that’s for sure.”
“I have written to her Father to request a meeting.”
“You’re going to ask him for her hand in marriage? Already? My, it must be going well.”
Isaac heard the excitement in Thomas’ voice and it made him squirm in his seat. It just reminded him of the predicament he had unintentionally found himself in. Diana would be destroyed by their plan and seeing her in such misery would destroy Isaac himself.
I am planning my own downfall.
“I am going to ask, yes,” he said finally, but his voice was tinged with a sadness he could not hide.
“You are not pleased?”
Thomas’ concern was worrying and calming at the same time. It reiterated to Isaac that they were indeed doing the right thing, but all the while it terrified him. He had an overwhelming desire to protect Diana from his brother, and he had an overwhelming need to care for the brother who had been hurting for far too long.
“Of course I am pleased,” Isaac snapped. “Everything is turning out to be—”
“Perfect.” Thomas rubbed his hands together in delight. “This is our chance to avenge Father’s death. Do not make a mess of it.”
“I won’t,” Isaac said, his voice growly with irritation.
“All right,” Thomas said. “On another note, I think I’ll go to the club for a few hours. Fancy joining me?”
“No,” Isaac said firmly. He couldn’t face spending time with his brother, watching him gloat at how much they were about to hurt the love of his life…and her father.
“Suit yourself,” Thomas said with a shrug. “I shall have an extra brandy for you.”
“Please don’t, Thomas. You drink far too much and without cause.”
“And you, my dear Brother, are a spoilsport.”
Thomas sauntered out of the room and Isaac huffed. He had been in a positive mood before Thomas ruined it all. More and more he was irritated by Thomas’ presence and his keenness for revenge.
The more he got to know Diana, the less Thomas seemed the hurt little boy Isaac wanted to help and more a man who had failed to grow up. Increasingly, Isaac could see the bitterness and hatred that roiled inside his brother, and he so desperately wanted to let go of that, to embrace the softness that Diana offered.
He leaned back in his chair, letting his thoughts wander. He had for so long been filled with a darkness that Thomas seemed to only encourage, but he wanted to pierce through that, change his way of thinking. He no longer wanted to be obsessed with revenge and
violence, but to be happy and carefree again.
He didn’t want to hurt Thomas—he couldn’t, even if he tried—but he didn’t want to hurt Diana either. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew something had to change.
Perhaps after my meeting with the Earl, my path will present itself.
In the meantime, he would focus on his work and his communications, knowing there was little he could do straight away. He was in the depths of his correspondence when there came another knock on the door.
“Come in,” he called without looking up, his quill still making shapes through the air as his writing scrolled across the page.
Games of Desire for Lady Hellion: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 16