Her giggle brought his attention to her bow-shaped lips, and he could feel his pulse quicken. “Our mothers were very close friends before marriage. I can certainly see my mother pushing on the periphery of propriety. She has an intuitive sense of how far to push people,” he said.She’s certainly been pushing me.If we decide we aren’t suited for marriage, I may have to leave the country, he thought wryly.
“And what about you, Your Grace? Do you have an intuitive sense about yourself?”
Her question caught him off-guard. His intuitive sense told him they had been watched, but he would not say that. Instead, he would check out some suspicions himself. “I do,” he said. “My intuition tells me that if we stay out here too much longer, we might run out of time to walk around and explore the ruins.”
She gave a knowing grin. “I think your insight could be correct, although my parents won’t worry too much about what time I return since we are affianced.”
“In that case, since we figured out how Chase got muddied, what do you say we return to the tent? Perhaps Peter can keep him entertained,” he said, smiling into her eyes.
Isabelle nodded.
“Good!” Turning their horses around, they headed back to the tented area at the castle ruins. Michael was happy he could steal time alone with her. He had a prickly feeling of being watched—and not by those at their tent. Chase’s following them added to his discomfort. The dog was most protective of his mistress. He had planned to ask Peter to check out the gamekeeper’s cottage, but it would be better if his own man checked it out for him. He would handle that this afternoon.
They returned to the tent and handed their horses’ reins, and Chase, to Peter.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the footman replied, tucking Chase under his arm and acknowledging his understanding that he was to keep the dog occupied.
“Shall we take that stroll, Isabelle?” Michael asked Isabelle, extending his elbow. He noticed Isabelle’s fascination with the huge, open-arched area ahead of them. It was elevated by the hill the previous structure had been constructed on, and with the expanse of the arch, it showed endless sky through its portal.
“It is as if we are peering straight into Heaven,” she murmured.
“I’ve always felt that way, myself. It is probably my favorite spot on the entire estate. On a night with a full moon, you can see nothing but glistening stars through that opening.”
“It is positively breathtaking,” she added.
“It is,” Michael agreed, but his focus was on her, not the sky. Gently, he turned her towards him and pulled her closer. Gazing into her eyes, he said, “I have two things to ask you.”
“You do?” she asked, holding his gaze. Nervously, her tongue moistened her bottom lip.
It almost undid him. “I don’t mean to make you nervous,” he whispered. “I wanted to ask if you would go shopping with me two days from now—this doesn’t take the place of our plans tomorrow.”
She smiled, and a breath of relief escaped. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to ask. I’d love to go shopping. I have several minor items I’d love to look for if you are alright with that.”
He smiled. “Of course! It is one purpose of the trip. I would enjoy getting your help on a gift for my mother and sister.”
She held his gaze and nodded. “I would be honored.”
“I have another question,” he said, moving his lips closer to hers. “I’d like your permission to kiss you.”
The smile she gave him skittered his heart. “I would like that very much, Michael.”
ChapterSix
The next day
Isabelle lay awake bundled in her bed covers and staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t time to get up, but she knew Beatrice would be here soon. The picnic with Michael at the old ruins had been much more than she expected, and she had returned home feeling a mixture of euphoric, anxious, and confused. All she knew was that she could not sleep and wondered how she would keep her eyes open today. It was a good thing Michael’s shopping trip was tomorrow and not today. By all indications, their relationship was progressing . . . nicely. Isabelle hadn’t changed her mind about becoming a duchess, yet the more time they spent together, the more confused she felt.
He was nothing like his brother. Michael was thoughtful and kind, and it was obvious he cared for her. While equally handsome, his brother had been abrupt, self-absorbed, a philanderer, and over-imbibed. There was no mystery about his death. He bragged about taking risks. It had saddened her, but it hadn’t surprised her when he met a painful death. The horse had dragged his brother’s broken body for what some said was a mile before anyone could catch it. An involuntary shudder shook her.
Michael was her only hope for being released from the betrothal. As well as they rubbed along, she didn’t see that happening. Isabelle was an honest person and couldn’t bring herself to sabotage the friendship—or whatever this was between them. The realization that she would soon be a duchess hit her like a load of bricks. Her stomach tightened, and she fought the nausea that threatened.
A soft tap at the door pulled her from her misery. “My lady, I have your chocolate and biscuits,” Beatrice said, opening the door. “His Grace is a delightful man. I quite like him, even as I understand your hesitations. If ye are to marry, he would be the right one for you.”
But her nausea was not nearly contained. Isabelle held her tongue and gave the maid a withering look. While Beatrice’s tone was sympathetic, and she understood Isabelle’s stress, here she was encouraging the match. If she didn’t think she would lose the contents of her stomach, Isabelle might have reacted differently to her maid’s encouragement.
Chase lifted his head from the pillow next to her head and gave a short bark, as if approving, before placing his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes.
Isabelle glanced at the door and turned away. The way she felt, she couldn’t eat a thing. “I cannot . . .” she said, turning towards her window.
