She did not want this man anywhere near her, sick of his poor attitude and exhausting taunts —
“Miss Wightman, wait.”
Isobel stopped at the door, reluctant to face him just yet. So she raised her head, her back still to him as she asked,
“What is it?”
She did not know what to expect, but clearly she yearned for something with the way her heart thundered within her chest.
After what felt like eons, his voice reached her.
“We need to have another lesson.”
CHAPTER TEN
“Another lesson?” Isobel scoffed, her hand tightening on the door handle. “Your Grace, you have made it abundantly clear how hopeless I am at this charade – as you prefer to call it. I would not want to waste any more of your precious time.”
She heard him move behind her, his footsteps deliberate against the floorboards as he drew closer, his voice breaching the air between them moments later.
“That is not what I meant.”
“Is it not?” She whirled around to face him, her bright skirts swaying with the sudden movement. “You have done nothing but criticize every word from my mouth, every step I take. You have made a game out of pointing out my flaws. I am clumsy, I am graceless, I am nothing like the perfect angel that is my sister?—”
“That was never my intention. I only intended to urge you to be mindful of the mistakes you were making without thinking,” Richard interrupted, his voice rising slightly. He cleared his throat, seeming to catch himself as he added with a deep exhale. “You were... You were not paying attention to the small details that matter in situations like these. Sometimes, it could be those little, seemingly insignificant points that could ruin your work. My goal is to teach you how to avoid such problems, Miss Wightman. That is all.”
Isobel studied him, noting the way his jaw tensed, how his hands had curled into fists at his sides before he forced them to relax moments later. He looked almost... defensive. As though her accusations had struck something within him that he had not expected.
Although his current reaction to her accusations was not enough to dissuade her from the fact that he had treated her badly on several occasions.
“And so, you believe it is best to insult me repeatedly?” she asked, keeping her voice cool despite the heat rising in her chest.
“I—” He stopped, his lips pressing into a thin line quickly as though he was holding back from making things much worse.
A muscle worked in his jaw, the twitching flesh mesmerizing her for longer than she would ever be willing to admit.
Finally, he said, “I was trying to ensure you would not make errors that could endanger both you and your sister. But I... I handled it poorly.”
The admission hung between them, unexpected and strangely vulnerable. Isobel's grip on the door handle loosened slightly, though she refused to let her guard down completely. This man had a talent for saying things that wounded her, whether he intended to or not.
“Why should I believe you genuinely want to help me now?” she asked quietly.
Richard began to take a step closer, then seemed to think better of it and stopped. His blue eyes held hers with an intensity that made her pulse jump, like a startled hare before it ran for the hills.
“Because I want to make sure your efforts are not going to waste,” he said, his voice softer now. “You are putting yourself at risk for your sister – who you barely know, in a house that is quite foreign, for a family that has shown you nothing but coldness. That... that deserves better than my harsh words.”
Isobel felt something shift within her chest, the tight knot of resentment that she had been carrying about all of last night and this morning as well, loosening gradually. She wanted to hold onto her anger, to use it as a shield against the confusing feelings this man stirred within her. But the sincerity in his expression, the careful way he spoke now – as though he was truly afraid of hurting her again – made it difficult to cling to her fury.
“Very well,” she relented, stepping away from the door. “What did you have in mind?”
Relief flickered across his features, so brief she might have imagined it. He gestured to the seating area near the window, and Isobel slowly moved toward it, keenly aware of how he followed, keeping a respectable distance between them now.
Once they were seated – she on a settee, him in a chair positioned at an angle to her – Richard leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
“You must learn how to retrieve information from others without raising suspicion,” he began. “The way you questioned your aunt this morning was... direct. A tad too direct. If she is indeed the culprit, you may have alerted her to your suspicions.”
Isobel bristled slightly, trying not to appear caught.. “I was merely expressing concern for her well-being. What is suspicious is why she was around the attic at that hour. I’d barely even gone far with my questioning!”
“Yes, you are right. I, too, find it odd that she would casually be wandering around the house at that hour – even more so that it is where Isobel was kept. Still, the truth remains that you pushed too hard when she deflected. A more subtle approach would have been to let the matter drop, then return to it later from a different angle.” He paused, studying her. “I know how to make people bend to my will – owning a duke's title provides certain advantages in that regard, which has come in handy numerous times. But for you, it will be different. You will need to use yourwords, your charm, to make people trust you enough to reveal themselves.”
