She shuddered and jerked back to stare at him in horror as she realized this was part of his plan. Part of her had always known.Just because she had escaped him through Ronan was not enough. He wanted her. More than that, he wanted to break her.
If he doesn’t do this now, what other damage will he cause? Who else will be hurt? Ronan? Lacey? Oliver? Oh lord, I couldn’t bear it. He can’t touch any of them!
“What do you even expect me to do?” Isla forced out, frozen in her spot.
Leaning casually against the railing like nothing was amiss, like he wasn’t threatening her future and the future of everyone she loved, Dunn faked a yawn. “Do whatever you like. Pretend none of this happened and hope for the best. Or… You come back to me.”
“What am I to do, divorce the duke?” She stammered.
“I will have you, one way or another,” he said in a low threatening tone. “Tell the ton what you like. That the marriage was a farce. That you were only his mistress. That you were forced into marriage. That you wanted me all alone. You can tell them you couldn’t bear it any longer.”
She was shaking now, trembling from head to toe. “No. I can’t. I… Ronan. The duke will never believe it.”
“Then you had better convince him. The duke and the ton. That’s what matters. And then you can spend the rest of your daysconvincing me,” he added with a chuckle. The sound twisted her insides. “It’s your choice.”
If she stayed with Ronan, her sister’s future would be destroyed and perhaps the whole of her family. But if she left, she would break her own heart, and destroy what she had built with Ronan.
It’s not much of a choice, is it?
CHAPTER 30
The morning after the ball, Ronan crossed the hall to Isla’s door only to find it closed. He was about to knock when her maid, Doreen, stepped out.
“How is she?” He asked hopefully.
“A little better,” Doreen said before hesitating. “She doesn’t seem very ill, only… unwell.”
He crossed his arms with a frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I can’t explain it. She has no complaints or unmet needs. She hardly slept and isn’t hearing a word I say. Perhaps it’s simply an awful migraine?”
That didn’t sound right to Ronan. Isla had complained of stomach ailments last night, not a headache. They had left afterhe finished talking with Lord Elroy, when he found her in the hall looking pale.
Everything had been going so well. If only he hadn’t left her side. When he returned them home, she refused a physician and went off to bed without another word.
He pulled out his pocket watch. Normally Isla was up. He would be late for his appointments if he didn’t leave soon.
“See to it she has anything she needs. If she’s not on her feet by afternoon tea, call the physician,” he instructed. “I’ll return home for supper. Otherwise I’ll send word, understood?”
Doreen reassured him, “I’ll do everything I can for Her Grace.”
Ronan took once last glance at the door, wondering what Isla would do if he strode right through to check on her. He wanted to return them to the perfect moment leading up to their dance last night. Maybe that would help her feel better.
Later. When I come home, all will be right again. I’m sure of it.
Ronan inhaled deeply as he left the house. All was well between him and Isla. Better than it had ever been, better than he had ever dared to hope.
Perhaps that was it. He found himself distracted by the notion through his countless meetings and Parliament sessions for theday, considering the lightness in his chest. Was it really hope? Could it be anything more?
After losing so much in his life, the thought of clinging to anything more left him uneasy and hesitant. But keeping Isla at a distance was never going to work. She had burrowed into his heart and soul.
I won’t keep cowering through this life, shutting everything out. I was a fool to think it otherwise. It’s time I made up for my mistakes. It’s time we planned a future together.
He was impatient for the day to end, finally hurrying home. The first thing Ronan asked a passing chambermaid was, “Is the duchess up?”
“Yes, Your Grace, she’s packing with her maid.”
That made him stumble. “Packing?”
