Page 18 of The Duke's Improper Bride
His hand hovered just below her chin as he studied her. He had always been quick to fall in love, but looking into those eyes of hers, it was already too late.
Before he could cup her face, Nora wrapped her arms around him and leaned against his chest. Everything within turned to ice as her body melted against his. His heart drummed in his ears until, inch by inch, he relaxed. Isaac rested his chin on top of Nora’s head before wrapping his arms around her in return. The two of them stood quietly for several minutes until their breaths matched—in and out—and the world came into focus.
“I will find them,” he said. “I will see that he does right by Maeve.”
She brushed her fingers over his cheek tentatively. “I like you too, Isaac.”
His name on her lips was heaven.
How foolish his thoughts. Mere seconds later, she raised to her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. Her lips traced the edges of his mouth as he opened up to her, his tongue gently darting against her own. It was a soft, quiet dance.
She kissed him as though she too had stumbled into love with a stranger. Love at first sight, love written in the stars. That was for the fairy stories he read to Minnie and Grace at Burton Hall. But no, this, every sweet press of her mouth against his, this was real. Beautifully real, and he didn’t want it to stop.
But they had just met. How could he feel this way? Surely, his heart was playing a cruel trick on him. He might like Nora—hell, he could almost believe he loved Nora—but it could never be that easy. He was leaving Scotland…
She drew back, not only breaking his thoughts, but possibly his heart. They couldn’t be through. They had just stumbled upon this…whatever this magic was between them.
Nora placed her fingertips against his lips, her cheeks pink. Together, they caught their breath, their shoulders rising and falling at the same pace.
She shut her eyes and moved away, the moment quickly unraveling around them. “Please don’t say anything.”
What could he say when he wished they were still kissing? But dread creeped in as she thrusted the book she was holding in his direction. Dread, because he was all too familiar to with what happened next—heartbreak.
He straightened, rubbing his nose with the back of his fist, then reached for the worn book, thumbing through the dogeared pages. “It’s a diary.”
“My sister’s. No one will listen, but Stuart has b-been with her since before we were engaged, it seems. She only made her debut this past spring, and she’s never been smart about protecting her reputation.”
“What about yours, Nora?”
“My reputation?” she asked with a crude laugh. Frustrated tears brimmed in her eyes once more. “I’m the slow invalid, the poor Ma-MacAllen girl to be pitied. Stuart running off with my sister c-changes nothing. If he is going to ruin her, then I want him to be responsible about it at least.”
“Maeve doesn’t deserve a say?”
“She has.” Nora waved her arm toward the diary in Isaac’s hands. “It’s confessions of love, details of…” She blushed again. “Well, he was anything but a g-gentleman, and he never really wanted me at all.”
Isaac sighed, biting his lip as he looked above her head, and out the window onto the garden as afternoon burned into early evening. “Then I’ll get you what you want.”
A knock sounded at the door, then Mrs. White entered. “Nora, dear?”
She swung her head around to meet Mrs. White, a passive look washing over her face. “I am through with crying over that m-man, Mrs. White.”
“As you should be, dear.” The older woman wrapped Nora in an embrace. “But your parents.”
“What of them? I wish to be anywhere but Scotland right now. I wish…” she trailed off. “Well, it has never mattered what I want.”
Mrs. White looked to Isaac, visibly frustrated.
“May I use your carriage, Mrs. White? I promise to return it.”
“Of course.”
Isaac grabbed the diary and marched out into the night.
There wasn’t time for sleep. He may not know what would come of that kiss with Nora, but without a doubt, he knew he could find Maeve and Stuart. Finding people was his gift.
* * *
If not forher rumbling stomach, Nora would not have returned home. For the past three days, her morning hikes stretched well into the afternoon. There were too many things trapped inside her for her to sit still. Her parents didn’t seem to care much about her absence. They hadn’t stopped fighting.
