“That someone spoke with Her Grace. Our duchess.”
Julian made a strangled sound. “Yes, yes, and who was that?”
“Lord Dunn,” she said in a squeak.
He jerked his head up. The name was familiar. A moment was needed amongst his cloudy thoughts, trying to pull it together. Then it came to him: Isla had told him about Dunn before; that she might have married him if not for Ronan.
A bitterness settled on his tongue, making it hard to swallow. “Ah. So that is who she is leaving me for.”
“Please wait outside in case we need you again,” Julian told the maid before coming around to sit beside Ronan. Though he tried to offer him a hand, Ronan brushed him off. “Don’t you see?”
“See what? I know she left me. You don’t need to cut me any deeper,” Ronan snapped.
Julian threw his hands up in the air. “You obstinate idiot! There is not a chance in the world your duchess would leave you. I saw the way you two looked at each other during the ball. Remember? I was there. And I was almost embarrassed at how sincerely you two were flirting with each other. Me! So believe me when I say your Isla wouldn’t be leaving you for someone else.”
Raising his head, Ronan glared. “Do you see her here?”
“No, but I cannot believe what I am hearing. She was glowing around you! Do you really believe that she left you because that is what she wanted?”
“She suggested a divorce.” The words came off his tongue awkwardly. “I couldn’t…”
This time Julian laid both hands on his shoulders to give him a quick shake. It made the room spin. Ronan resisted the urge to throw up. The drink was a beauty to go down but he didn’t want it coming back the other way. He held tightly back onto Julian, breathing deeply.
“Think, Ronan!” His friend was saying. “What did you even ask her? Did she say where she was going?”
“No, I…”
“Did she say why she was leaving you?”
That made his stomach twist. “That what we had didn’t mean anything and that we were fooling ourselves. Something like that.”
Julian made a face. “She fooled everyone, then. Do you think she’s that good of an actress?”
“No…” Ronan needed to think. Julian’s arrival was ill-timed but necessary. He needed that shake.
Shoving his friend back, he rose up to start pacing. His mind still felt a little muddled, but he worked quickly. Carefully. Backtracking. Yes, everything had been going well for them. They’d had a few pleasant weeks of friendly bickering andplayful teasing that had led to serious flirtations. It wasn’t something that had happened lightly.
It's not adding up.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Ronan realized at last.
Julian beamed. “Now you understand! So, what shall we do?”
“Find out the truth.” He started toward the door, ready to ride right back into London.
Only a step out into the hall, Julian called, “Would you like to wear a shirt perhaps?”
Ronan grunted and steered himself back in the other direction. Clothes were needed whether he cared or not. “Ready the horses. I’ll be in the stables shortly,” he added over his shoulder.
It wasn’t long before the two gentlemen had taken horses down the road to London. Julian rode a fresh one from the stables. The air helped Ronan sober up, though they’d brought some meat pies along just in case his stomach needed help settling later. Julian let Ronan lead the way until they made it to London late that evening, going straight to the door of Isla’s family’s home.
He wasn’t surprised when Mrs. MacLaren was the one to open the door.
“Oh! What a… surprise!” The older lady looked at Ronan in shock and then glimpsed Julian. “Oh dear. How… how delighted I am to see you.”
“Really?” Julian asked curiously.
Shoving him back with an elbow,” Ronan focused on the woman. “Isla. I should like to see her if I might.”
