Isla’s chest tightened. “Ye speak as if I were a servant and not yer wife.”
He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “This wedding ultimately is of your own making. You insisted on protecting your family. This is your chance.”
“What do ye mean?”
“My household and my son are now your responsibility. Legally, we are your family. In turn, you will be well cared for. I will guarantee you this compromise and I expect you to do the same for me.”
“I know how to conduct meself,” she fired back, her own pride rising to meet his. “I am still a lady. I ken yer late wife was a woman of great standing. I may nae be English, but?—”
“I have never doubted your origins nor your suitability for my needs,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl. He was so close now she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “I do not care if you are from Scotland, Salisbury, or Spain. I only want you to follow my rules. Your display of reckless bravery was reserved only for that moment. Do you understand?”
“I ken when to act and when to be cautious,” she told him, her breath catching in her throat. “I daenae need ye to?—”
“You will obey me,” he cut her off, “as a wife must.”
“I will follow…” she corrected, her chin tilting defiantly as her heart began to race at a feverish pace. “Rules that are worth followin’.”
They were inches apart, the air between them thick. He lowered his head, and she could feel the faint brush of his breath on her lips.
“All my rules are worth following,” he said.
She inched closer without realizing it. “And how are ye so certain of that, Yer Grace?” she whispered.
“Because the reward I give,” he murmured, gaze locked on hers, “is worth every moment of obedience.”
She swallowed, her chest tightening. “And… what is this reward?” she asked, almost breathless, daring him.
She found herself inching toward him, like he was the last bit of sunlight on a cool day. It was a pull, both magnetic and frightening.
His eyes darkened fractionally, and for the briefest moment, the ice around him seemed to melt. “You will learn… but only if you prove yourself a very, very good girl.”
Her lips parted, and she sucked in a quiet breath, his words stunning the air out of her and sending heat across her body.
What were these sensations she was feeling? A shiver she could not suppress, a flutter in her chest, and an ache that had nothing to do with the morning’s nerves. She found herself inching imperceptibly closer, drawn by something in his presence she could neither name nor resist.
He remained statuesque, controlled, yet the faint curve at the corner of his mouth betrayed the slightest satisfaction at her reaction. The air between them thickened, heavy like the stickiest honey.
Suddenly, the carriage jolted, lurching to a halt, along with Isla’s breath.
They both drew back at once, the charged moment broken as they sat back in their original positions.
The driver’s voice echoed from outside as he rapped on the carriage. “Your Grace, we have arrived at the gates! We will be at the manor entrance in a few moments. We made excellent time for this time of year.”
The carriage rolled down the stone road to Ealdwick Manor as the two once again sat in silence.
Isla gazed out the window and focused her attention on the landscape that unfolded before her.
This was to be her home. Towering evergreens lined the long, private road, their deep green needles swaying gently in the breeze. They stood in perfect contrast to the bright, open sky above, and she could only imagine how breathtaking it must be in summertime.
I didnae realize quite how much I missed the peacefulness of the country...
A wave of awe washed over her, followed closely by a quiet ache. The scene reminded her so vividly of Scotland. She closed her eyes for a moment and could see the frost-tipped trees blanketing the hills, smell the scent of pine in the crisp winter air, and feel the soft hush that prickled her skin just before snowfall like the Christmases back home at Dalrigh Hall.
Suddenly, the carriage came to a sharp halt, and the door was opened by a liveried footman from the Manor entrance.
The Duke of Ealdwick stepped out first. He turned and offered Isla a hand, his touch formal and remote, yet somehow hot under her skin. She took it and wrapped her fingers around his.
She stepped onto the gravel drive, her travel gown rustling softly in the cool breeze as she took it in.
