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The footman opened the door and Isaac gestured for him to help Louisa out before he stepped out behind her.He thanked the driver and dismissed him, then entered the foyer to see no sign of Louisa—and he could not question her.
He went to his rooms and tugged his jacket off and dropped it over the back of a chair, then went to his private wine cupboards and liberated a bottle of sweet Spanish wine. He poured out a glass and sank into a nearby wingback and took a healthy mouthful of his wine.
He had to reconsider what he was doing with Louisa. He was not a hunter, but he knew what skittish deer looked like. He had to wait and let Louisa come to him instead of him going to her.
As the night dwindled on, he passed through the motions with little interest. Isaac barely tasted his supper and the water in his bath could have been colder than ice or hotter than an erupting geyser, he had not felt it.
He did not chance going to bed as he knew that sleep would elude him and so found himself back in the library with a bottle of a wine and sinking stomach.He was two and half glasses in when he looked at the bottle, wondering off he should top it off.
If I continue, I will wakeup foxed.
He filled the glass up again, just as the hesitant scrape of the library’s door was pushed open. He looked up to see Louisa lingering just inside the entrance. After a long moment, she said, “It is late; I was not sure that you would be here.”
Standing, Isaac rounded the table, but stopped there. “You came to find me?”
Louisa stepped closer, and her expression was contrite. Her shoulders were sagging, and her fingers were twisting into her apron. “Of course, I came for you.”
“Then, what are you doing over there?” Isaac rested his backside on the edge of the desk and opened his arms.
The smile that appeared upon her face was priceless as she came forward and with a breath of relief, steppedto himand wound her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Pressing a hand to the small of her back, Isaac pulled her to rest on his chest and nuzzled his nose into herloose hair.
God, having her back in his arms, where he consideredshe should always be, Isaac felt the disquiet inside him peter away. “I am sorry that I scared you.”
“You were only speaking what was—or is—resting on your heart,” Louisa replied. “And the implication scared me to death.”
Pulling away, Isaac threaded his hands through her hair.“If you would like, I will not bring it up again.”
With a long sigh,Louisa pulled herself away and went to sit in the couch there and Isaac followed her. “But…marriage, Isaac. How is that possible? Can you cross those lines without drawing severe repercussionsupon yourself?”
“As with the ton?” Isaac liberally scoffed. “I have no fear of them and their whispers or sneers. I have the right, as does every man alive, to be with the person I want to be with and I have no doubt in my mind, that person is you.”
Her handsdropped and her fingers plucked at her apron.“Isaac, you cannot imagine how… frankly terrifying that mere notion of marrying you is to me. I just cannot see it and if I can’t see it, how can I be it? Doesn’t a Duchess have to be educated in all matters of subjects and sophisticated in knowing people, places and manners?”
“Yes,” Isaac replied. “But as I told you, there is a divide, themajority of the cultured women I have met are vain as peacocks. They cannot and will not deign themselves to bother with those who they consider beneath them and would rather throw magnificent balls and eatbon-bons. I cannot be with someone like that.”
Louisa made to say something, but she must havereconsidered and closed her mouth again. She then added, “I understand.”
Lacing his fingers with hers, Isaac said, “May we forget all this for now? I would prefer to just hold you.”
Her smile was grateful.“I would like that, thank you.”
Reaching out for her, Isaac maneuvered them so that he was laying on the couch and Louisa was nestled on his chest. She was so petite and lovely, her slender body a perfect fit to his. To complement the soft intimacy, her hair, something that Isaac realized he was obsessed about, was fanned all over his chest. He took the opportunity to combhis fingers through, whenever he wanted.
It was sublime holding her, and as he basked in it, he realized that Louisa’s breathing pattern had changed, and that she was soundly asleep. Isaac found himself in a dilemma; he could not take her to her room, as he had no inkling where to find it, and moreover, he could not let her sleep on the couch.
It was late and the couch, as modest and partially comforting as it was, was not fitting to sleep on. The only conclusion—Louisa would be sleeping in his bed that night.
Gently, he stood and lifted her into his arms, nestling her head on his chest while his arms were laced under her legs and behind her back. He managed to open the door without jostling her and carried her down the carpeted hallway and into his bedchamber.
Tenderly, he rested her on the right side of the bed and then went to close and bolt the door behind him. He removed his shoes and managed to get her shoes off. He removed his waistcoat and shirt, before removing her apron.
He briefly considered finding a large old shirt for her but decided against it. Undressing her would be badfor them both; it would wake her up, something he did not want to do, and baring her skin would tempt him into activitieshe knew they were both not fully ready for.
So, he settled for joiningher in the bed with his trousers on and gently pulled her back into his hold. It wasn’tmuch, but having her in his bedwas more than he had ever dreamed. With her back to his chest, Isaac closed his eyes and slipped off to the most peaceful sleep he’d had in months.
***
It was hours before dawn when Louisa roused. “…Isaac?”
