Over the next two days, Isla decided to enact Ronan’s plan herself: avoidance. She scanned the halls and learned his schedule and ensured she was on the other side of the house whenever she could manage it.
What the household thinks about our union, I cannot imagine. But it’s not their business. Should Ronan wish to say anything, I suppose he could. What would he tell them? I cannot imagine it would be the truth. Either way, it is best that I avoid Ronan in turn to keep the peace.
Sunday rolled around and she even managed to avoid attending church because both Anne and Oliver were feeling ill. That should have continued her plan to avoid her husband.
Until he had a note delivered to her that very evening that their neighbors, a baron, invited them two days from hence to dine with him and his wife. The duke had agreed whilst at church. She couldn’t very well turn it down.
So two days later, Isla readied herself early only to find it wasn’t necessary: a storm blustered through within the hour.
“I’m afraid it won’t be safe for the horses,” Hobbes told her in passing while she stood at a hall window and watched the sleeting rain hit the glass. “I hope you are not too disappointed, Your Grace.”
Trying to hide a smile, she said, “Not at all.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, thank you.” She turned to him. “I’ll have a supper tray in the library in the next hour.”
He nodded. “I’ll have a fire prepared there as well.”
“Oh, I don’t mind taking care of it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Then what shall the chambermaids do?”
Chuckling, Isla shook her head. “Very well. If someone is free, I would appreciate it while I change into something less… sparkling.” She glanced at the gems in chagrin. It was a fine dress she had yet to wear. And would still yet have to wait for another occasion.
“You look very lovely, Your Grace, if that is not too bold.”
“You? Bold?” Isla grinned at him. She liked him a little more every day. “Not at all. Thank you, Hobbes.”
Off she went, changing into a warmer and simpler dress before winding her way around to the library. A fire was already prepared there. She built up the pillows and cushions on the rug just the way she liked it, and read until her dinner tray was brought to her.
Hector came to join her. He nibbled at the left-over tray before settling in her lap. He kept her warm as well, and she spoke softly about her thoughts of the book for some time.
“I can hardly believe someone would say such a thing in real life.” “Oh! Well, isn’t that a surprise, Hector?” “How shameful. I can hardly imagine such a thing.”
The dinner tray was taken from her at some point, replaced with tea. She hardly looked up. Hardly needing to shift back an inch to reach out for her cup, she was about to pour again when another hand covered hers. A large warm hand that she recognized.
Dropping the book, she whirled her head around to see Ronan seated on the sofa. His hand covered hers and he gazed right at her.
All was quiet. She couldn’t hear a thing, not even her cat’s purring. Had he stopped? Where was her heartbeat? She blinked and wondered what sort of power Ronan could possibly have.
“May I?” He murmured.
“I…” Retracting her hand, she eyed the pot and cup. Pouring was a lady’s job. But he offered. She nodded and mumbled, “Thank you.”
He gave a slight nod. Was he angry? She glanced at the tea and then back at his inscrutable expression. “I see you enjoy my chai.”
Then he wasn’t mad at her? Isla chewed her bottom lip. “It is delicious. One of the new maids brought it to me, not thinking. I’ve come to enjoy it very much. I… I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” He leaned back on the loveseat with a serious expression directed at her. “What good is wealth if it’s not put to use? Costs a small fortune to ship it from India. Not the same as drinking it there, of course, but it worth the effort.”
Warming her hands with the cup, she asked, “You have been to India?”
“I spent two months in the Royal Army before being called home,” he said with a bitter-tinged tone.
“Oh. I didn’t know…” She cleared her throat, finding her voice hoarse. Maybe it was best if they didn’t say a word.
Wait a moment. He didn’t speak earlier. When did he come in here? With the tea tray? Surely not before… Why was I so engrossed in my book? It wasn’t even that good. Has he been watching me?Goodness gracious, for how long?
