“It’s unfair…” Sophia said into Isadora’s shoulder.
“Itisunfair. Sometimes life is unfair. But it doesn’t mean we don’twantyou to be there, or that we’re not thinking of you. None of this means we love you any less.”
Nicholas rested a hand on Sophia’s head briefly. “She’s right, you know,” he told her quietly. “We love you just as much when we leave you at home as when we bring you with us.”
Us.
The word resounded in Isadora’s chest, and she held on to Sophia for her own sake as much as the girl’s.
None of this looked exactly as she had expected or hoped, but she had finally found a family of her very own. And at least where Sophia was concerned, Nicholas seemed to view her as an integral part of the puzzle, too. With Sophia, they were awe, even if they weren’t in any other portion of his life, and that was far more than she’d ever had before.
After putting Sophia to bed with the help of the nursemaid, Isadora and Nicholas retired upstairs. The night had taken its toll, and although Isadora had felt perfectly alert while handling Sophia, exhaustion tugged at her now. She felt like a bedraggled parrot, dragging its feathers back to its perch for the night.
But Nicholas stilled her with a hand on her door before she could enter the duchess’s suite. “Wait.”
She looked up at him, at the way his jaw feathered subtly as he watched her, and the dark, opaque expression in his eyes. He was always so hard to read. “What is it?” she asked.
“I would never have thought to look for her there. To my knowledge, she rarely goes up to that wing—and the cat…” He paused, glancing away, and the hand on the door curled into a fist. “I’m sorry I was angry at you for bringing the cat inside.”
The tension in her body eased. “An apology from the great duke?” she teased. “Twice in one night?”
He looked back at her. “I thought you deserved one. I know I haven’t always been… easy to live with.”
She longed to know if this would mean he would stop going on his mystery visits at night, but perhaps that was still a bridge too far for now.
“And,” he added, his eyes intent on hers, “I know that you have been trying with Sophia, and I’ve been meaning to say how grateful I am. She has always been…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “She’s always felt a little like a mystery to me, even though I’ve been in her life since she was born. Having someone who understands her is…”
“I understand,” she said softly, and following the prompting of the moment, she rested a hand on his chest. “She’s just young, and she’s living in a world that is changing under her feet, and that’s a scary thing for any girl. Give her time and space to be a child.”
“I do.”
Isadora laughed. “She thought you would scold her for having a cat.”
“Apregnantcat,” he interjected.
“It’s natural for a child to want a pet. Something to fuss over and care for.”
His fingers curled around her wrist, but he didn’t move her hand away. Instead, he looked down at her as though he had never seen her before. “Something to fuss over,” he repeated.
“Sometimes it gives us purpose. You and I have Sophia, but she’s a child—so she has a cat.”
“And you,” he added, something unreadable in his voice.
Isadora blinked. “Well, perhaps she might disagree, but I don’t think Sophia is looking after me.”
“Not Sophia,” he said. “Me.”
Her eyes widened a touch, breath faltering in her throat. He loomed over her, but she never felt intimidated by his size the way she might otherwise have done. Yes, in so many ways, she supposed hedidlook after her. She just hadn’t thought he cared enough to consider it in those terms.
Her palm still lay over his heart. She slid it to his shoulder and stepped in until her skirts brushed his legs. It felt perfectly natural to tip her chin and look into his eyes.
She felt his harsh exhale against her face.
The fingers around her wrist loosened. His other hand closed on her waist, the way it had while they waltzed, and brought her nearer, one deliberate inch at a time. He gave her every chance to refuse. She answered by sinking her fingers into the hair by his nape—so soft, so downy.
He made a noise in the back of his throat. Starved, the sound of it made her stomach dip and swoop and heat bloom between her legs. It was the same feeling as before, in the ballroom, when she felt as though they were on the precipice of something—and she wanted.
How shewanted…
