Page 12 of The Duke's Improper Bride
“I thought we agreed to Stu. Much easier to say.”
Nora strode to the bookshelf, grabbed a book, and hurled it at Stuart. He neatly dodged it and laughed. Too bad.
“We’ll still be married. This was nothing. A girlish fantasy that ran away from us. It was nothing.”
Nora threw two more books for good measure, her anger boiling. At least the last one neatly pegged him on the forehead.
Stuart frowned, rising from the couch, then lumbered toward her. “We will be married as planned. This changes nothing, and if you speak about this, I promise you will live to regret it.”
“You don’t sc-scare me.”
“Then you’re just as simple as your mother likes to remind everyone.” He came up to her, toe to toe, staring down at her. “We could have you thrown into an asylum. No one wants you anyway.”
“I be-believed you when you a-asked to marry me.” Nora glared up at him, keeping her voice low.
“You don’t believe that.” He laughed, gripping her waist to haul her up against him. “Our marriage is purely business. And unlike you, your sister is at least willing—”
Nora slapped him. But he yanked her head and kissed her roughly, all wet and possessive. She threw her arms back, shaking off his hold, but not running away. She would never run away.
“Business would me-mean you are searching for Daniel. That is why I a-agreed.”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, brows pinched. He looked more like a cornered dog than a fiancé discovered in a compromising situation. “You are not that stupid, Nora. No one is looking for Daniel. My uncle had him put away, and he deserves to be put there. He’s unnatural.”
Unnatural? That was all Nora needed to know. It was far more than he had disclosed before. “Go to dinner, Stuart.”
He pinched an errant curl of hers, yanking as he sauntered around her, before letting go.
“And st-stay away from my sister.”
He buttoned his shirt. “So many demands for someone with so much to lose.”
Nora strode to the door and shut it, unable to stomach the sight of him. She pressed her back to it, then slid down to the floor and cried for the words she’d never hear, for the words she held inside.
For the cruel trick of it all.
Chapter 4
Isaac would have preferred to spend the evening alone, but he was forced to admit the company at Mrs. White’s dinner party were a merry lot.
All but Nora, that is.
She had kept to herself, entering dinner late to sit at the far end of the table. She had moved her peas from one side of the plate to the other, never touching a bite of her food. Her beautiful sapphire eyes had been empty, void of that spark they normally possessed. Everyone else seemed occupied with their conversations, sparingly including her throughout the seven courses, and she had smiled in return. But it was a false smile, one pasted on for others’ comfort.
He hadn’t been fooled.
And as the night wore on and brandy and cigars were announced, Isaac did what he could to slip away, eventually succeeding after only a couple of glasses. He searched out the rest of the party, bidding farewell and thanking Mrs. White for being a wonderful hostess.
That is, he was ready to leave if he could make one final goodbye. Nora was nowhere to be found.
“She’s gone home with a headache, poor dear,” Mrs. White said.
Isaac glanced to Mrs. MacAllen and Maeve in the parlor beyond, the two playing a heated hand of whist. The doors were open to the garden outside, he thought he saw the sheen of silk moving along the pathway under the filtered light of the lit torches on the terrace.
“Well, thank you again for the invitation, Mrs. White.”
Isaac limped to the carriage Mrs. White so kindly lent him to convey him home. He knew she was outside, when she was supposed to be home. No one thought anything of Nora returning to Esslemont Abbey in the dark.
Damn it, he couldn’t leave.
