Page 12 of A Flurry for a Duke

“It might be my face, but your face is telling me you wouldn’t like it.”

Why should he care what her face liked or not? She shrugged it off.

“I don’t particularly like beards.”

His silence spoke of his disbelief. And…his eyes. They were practically burrowing holes in her.

Planning to wait him out, she was finally rewarded. “I don’t much like beards either, you know?”

“Why?”

“My uncle had a beard.”

“The one who…?” She didn’t know the full story, only that he was a lazy wastrel of a man.

“Ya. The one who made his wife dote on him hand and foot right until the end. When my father was the one who was chronically sick with complications from cholera and needed the attention. My uncle and his family lived with us. He was supposed to be the one taking care of us. Instead, he took all he could for himself, before and after my father passed away.” Isaac scrubbed his face. “My uncle. The bastard. The one who couldn’t raise a hand for himself, or for anyone, except to strike his own son. I did what I could to protect my cousin. Hid him in my wardrobe when I could. Finally, when I was old enough—big enough—to step in, I did.” Isaac’s eyes grew dark. “My uncle manipulated everyone around him to do his bidding. Couldn’t do a damn thing for himself.” He gripped his hair, and his eyes cleared.

Hope tried to add levity to the situation. “So you can relate. Neither one of us likes beards.”

“There’s more to it for you.” He stated, waiting.

She wanted to wait him out again, but if he was willing to open up then maybe she could, too. Her heart was in her throat, and her palms were sweaty. If she just told him…

And then words that she had never shared with anyone outside of her family spilled out of her. “I was almost abducted when I was a child. The man had a beard. My brothers saw it and grabbed me. That’s all.”

Isaac stood looking dumbfounded.

“It’s not a big deal. Nothing happened.” Hope reassured him.

“You keep saying things aren’t a big deal, Hope. But they are.”

She could feel tears stinging her eyes, and she couldn’t say anything new. “It’s not a big deal.”

He wrapped her in a hug. His arms were so strong. The warmth tugged at her soul. His chin rested atop her head. Lips grazed her hair. She wanted to be close to him. He could be her protector. She could let him…As a friend, she reminded herself. She sniffed. Friendship was all that they could have. Reluctantly, she stepped out of his embrace.

Gone was the sternness. Gone was the tenderness. And its place was Mr. Cavalier. They knew each other well enough to tacitly agree upon moving on.

“You must be in your element today. I’m glad to see it,” he said. No more solemnity marring his handsome face.

“Why would you say that?”

“Well, you’re hosting guests, which you love to do. And you’re wearing your favorite dress, aren’t you?”

She looked down at her blue frock, unnerved that his words meant so much to her. They were such surface level observations. Anybody would know those simple facts about her, wouldn’t they? Favorite activity…favorite color…

She yanked her hand free of his grasp, unaware of when he had reached for it. Immediately, she felt bereft of the warmth and tenderness that had emanated from his fingers. “Yes. You’re right.” The words were harder to say than she wanted to admit.

She jutted out her chin and said, “Fine. Walk with me. If you can keep up.”

That made him chuckle. “As I recall, I was the winner of the potato sack race last summer, was I not?”

“I couldn’t say I remember that specific event.”

Lies. She remembered all the time she had spent with Isaac. And for some reason, each of those memories had been flung into her mind with resounding vibrance and laughter.

No matter.

Nope.

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