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Chapter Eight
Heavy dread settled into her stomach as she knocked on Isaac’s breakfast room’s door, and after he permitted her to answer, she went in. He sat there, with the newspaper open and his eyes running over the lines swiftly.
“Good morning.Your coffee, Your Grace,” she said quietly, while resting the cup and saucer on the table,hoping he would keep reading.
Isaac closed the paper and laid it down.“Good morning, Miss Stone,” he addressed her formally, but the look in his eyes was anything but formal—he looked caring. “Did you sleep well?”
Briefly, she thought of lying, but he, at least, merited the truth from her.“No. I didnot; there were too many things on my mind.”
Ignoring the cup, he stood and rounded the desk.“I do not want anything more from you than what you are ready to give, Louisa. I’ve found a connection with you that I have not felt with anyone else.”
Melancholically, she looked up.“Forgive me for finding it hard to believe it.”
“What would it take for you to trust me?” Isaac asked.
Hugging the tray to her chest as if it were a shield, Louisa almost whispered, “I do not know.”
Instead of him whispering consolatory words to her, Isaac embraced her tightly.“Take all the time you need.”
When he went back into his chair, Louisa asked, “How is it that you are so decided on this? What could have possibly made you think that I—that I would be a good match for you? Aside from the few time we spoke and what I told you about my life, I do not seewhat reason you could have to think…”
“That I would prefer you over any other?” Isaac asked, after sipping his coffee.
“Yes,” she replied. “You hardly know me.”
He settled the cup in the saucer and slanted in his seat.“I may not have said it clearly, but I had decided to stop living my life in fear, and I am trying to lock the door on regret, and disappointment. And at your other point, no, I do not know you all that well, but that can easily be remedied—let me get the chance to know you, and you, me.”
Louisa stood, blinking her soft shock away—he had given her clear reasons that she could not deny were sensible and could work. But she could not surpass the issue that he, a Duke, was trying to court her for lack of other words.
She kept silent for so long that the silence between them became a bit stifled, and when she did speak, her words sounded stilted.“I suppose that makes sense. I find it very extraordinary that you just decided not to live in regret and disappointmentso quickly, as if you just shut a door on it.”
His smile was slight but showed true happiness.“A wise person once told me,I try not to let the disappointments and heartbreaks I suffered define me. It’s a lot to carry such pain in one’s heart.I felt it prudent advice.”
Again, Louisa reddened.“I did not know that you would take my words to heart.”
“When I hear good council, I take it.” Isaac took his cup up and smiled over the rim.“Perhaps you should heed to it.”
The mere irony of it almost made her laugh, “Duly noted.”
“Have a good day, Louisa,” he said, then went back to his paper.
His tone hinted to levity, but she knew he meant every word as serious as it were a matter of life and death. As she left to the kitchen, Louisa wondered how hard it would be to put her own words into effect and let go of her misgivings.
As she went to take her cleaning materials and attend to some rooms, Louisa decided that the best thing she could do was to tryand allow her heart to lead her.
That night, after the work was done, Louisa trimmed her lamp and took outThe Canterbury Talesbook—at the first line, she realized it was a poetry book.
When that Aprilis, with his showers swoot, the drought of March hath pierced to the root, and bathed every vein in such licour, of which virtue engender'd is the flower…
She read haltingly, as sometimes the meanings of a few phrases skipped her, but she eventually got enraptured in the Knight’s Tale. She marked her page when her eyes began to get heavy, placed it back in then desk’s drawer, and then went to bed. Maybe…maybe she could give Isaac the chance he wanted and live the fantasy all women dreamed of, and if it did not work… well, at least she’d have tried.
When morning came, she sat up and decided if Isaac were going to try, she could show him that she would do the same. After bathing, and dressing, she fixed her hair with one of the combs Isaac had gotten her—by proxy—but it was his gift.
Hurrying to the kitchen, she helped with the breakfast preparation, and precisely at seven, as with the other days, Isaac rang for his morning drink, and she took it to him. As his eyes landed on her, a smile bloomed on his face, and Louisa knew he saw his gift on her.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” she said.“How was your night?”
“Very pleasant, and my morning, much more so,” he said, “And I hope your night was the same?”
