Page 43 of The Duke's Improper Bride
“Your father is searching for you, Daniel,” Isaac said. “He has paid two men handsomely, to comb Ireland, Scotland, and England for your whereabouts. Staying here, even in Liverpool, is a risk.”
“I’m not leaving the boy,” Daniel replied gruffly. “He has nowhere to go. No one to watch over him. He’s been locked away in that asylum since birth. He has no knowledge of the outside world.”
“That boy,” Isaac said, pointing his finger to the child, “is close to death.”
Daniel straightened his shoulders, his voice laced with threat. “I won’t let him die.”
“Then he needs a doctor.” Isaac slipped his pistol back into his waistband. “He needs a doctor and not some hack we’re going to get here, so close to the docks that we’ll have to drag him out of the tavern.”
“Then what?” Nora said. “We w-won’t leave him.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Isaac replied, his voice steady as he met her eyes. For a moment, the hardness fell from her face.
I found you, he thought.I found you and I’m not letting you go.
“I have a plan,” he said. “And to start, we’re climbing out that window. Quick, blow out the candle.”
* * *
Three DaysLater
Nora closed the door behind her, leaning back against it as her husband read the evening’s paper on the bed, his ankles crossed. The smell of ink, coffee, and sandalwood filled the air.
It was the first time they had been alone since Isaac crawled up into the attic at the small house in Everton. A place Nora thought was so well hidden from those seeking Daniel out that she was certain they would be safe. The area had been so crowded, and another Irish boy wouldn’t stand out in an area populated by the Irish. And they were safe, after all. She just never counted on her husband finding her.
Lie.
But she was glad he had.
Glad he was here with her now.
Even if there was so much left unsaid between them. It might as well have been years since she had laid eyes on him instead of mere weeks.
Their hotel suite was the most luxurious space she had ever been in, and it only seemed to deepen the divide between them. Isaac seemed unattainable between the layers of damask and velvet and giant ferns. Even the bed was well-appointed. He fit so perfectly there, just as he had fit so perfectly playing his part of the moody painter back in Scotland.
Isaac excelled at being many men, striding through the world full of charm and grace and kindness. He was a chameleon. Nora couldn’t figure why he had come for her, never mind why she was his wife. A man such as Isaac could have anyone.
And no one seemed to ever want Nora around.
Except for him.
What an extraordinary thing.
“They’re sleeping,” she said, cursing herself for saying something so insignificant.
The doctor had come again today, a proper doctor at Isaac’s request and expense, to care for the boy and Danny.
Isaac set the paper down, turning to her, and it nearly robbed her of the air in her lungs. How was it that every time she entered a room, he had the ability to make her feel so loved without ever saying a word?
“That doctor comes highly recommended. He’ll see them well.” He folded the paper, patting the bed beside him. “You must be tired.”
“Hmph.”
Tired wasn’t enough to describe how she felt. Nora was exhausted to her bones from running, and the hiding, and fighting her way to save Danny and the boy.
Nora was hungry too. Hungry for her husband’s embrace, for his voice, for the feel of his body against hers. They had both said such horrible things when they last parted.
Though her heart pushed her forward, her feet steered her away from the bed and to the balcony outside their suite. She leaned her arms on the railing, breathing in the night air as the rest of Liverpool carried on with their lives—their hopes and dreams, their plans for the future.
