Page 14 of The Duke's Improper Bride
“It can be our secret. I won’t tell a soul.”
“They won’t c-care,” she said. Then her eyes popped wide as she swung her head to meet Isaac’s stare. Her lips parted, as if waiting.
Her voice was just as sweet as her humming, spiced brandy and sugar.
“I do,” he said with a shrug.
For a moment, her features softened, the sadness lifted from her eyes. But she settled back into the bench seat, holding the blanket tight.
“You don’t know me, Mr. Barnes. And I h-hardly know you. No need to be k-kind.”
“I wasn’t aware kindness had limitations.”
“That isn’t true in my experience.”
“And what experience is that?”
“I f-fell from a horse when I was t-twelve and badly injured my neck. I developed a stutter. I recovered, but ever since, I’ve repelled g-good company.”
“Then I’ll strive to be better company.”
“You don’t have to be polite, Mr. Barnes. I’ll survive just l-like any other without it. I choose not to speak.”
He sat back, drumming his fingers over the seat. “And what a pity to spend life just surviving.”
Again, she shrugged, but as the moonlight poured into the carriage, he noticed her hastily wipe at her eyes.
“Even the moonlight loves your face.”
Damn it. That had been meant for him, and him alone. He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable.
“I shouldn’t have, that is, I mean no—”
“—I’m to be married in two months, Mr. Barnes. I s-s-shouldn’t be here with you.”
While that was true, Miss MacAllen’s fiancé hadn’t said a word to her throughout the entire dinner. If pressed to guess, Isaac would say the man barely even looked at her all evening. No one had, and shame on them.
“I’m sorry for tonight, and I’m sorry for the years no one has seen you.“
Nora twisted a curl between her fingers, pretending to focus on the passing fields and rocks, but he noticed her side glances. “Do you always like playing the martyr?”
“The truth?”
She nodded.
“It only ever seems to get me into trouble.” He inched closer. “But trust me, Miss MacAllen, I’m no saint.”
* * *
The words skimmed over Nora,brushing off the night’s chill, and settled into her bones like a fine whiskey. She might as well be a viper for the way she had behaved, but she couldn’t shake the anger still brewing after walking in on Maeve and Stuart.
Here she was, in a carriage alone with a man who was kind and perhaps a little too charming. Under the moonlight, she felt just a little carried away by the way he would wet his lips from time to time as he fought back a smile at her unfair jabs.
“Have you ever heard of shadowboxing, Miss MacAllen?”
She would listen to almost anything if Mr. Barnes would keep speaking. That voice, that mouth, those eyes. No doubt she was a better woman than the one she was in this instant, but she didn’t feel inclined to keep her mouth shut around this handsome stranger.
“No,” she said, her voice a whisper.
