Page 20 of His Graceful Duchess (A Lady’s Vow #3)

CHAPTER 20

“ W hile you were away, I decided to take it upon myself to make some changes,” she started. Evan was watching her with wordless amusement, his hands folded out in front of him.

“To my study? ”

Ah. This was the part that Isadora had been nervous about. Was he going to get angry at her?

“Now, before you get angry,” she prefaced, bracing herself, “remember that I am only trying to make the space a bit better for you and that you must try and keep an open mind.”

“I don’t understand why you’re explaining yourself so much,” Evan shrugged casually and then walked past her, finally entering the study. He stopped in his tracks, and Isadora felt nervousness shoot up in her system.

Oh, he hates it. He’s going to chide me over it.

“I—I thought that the place was unusually dark,” she tried to explain herself, “and that it could use some brightening up.”

Evan said nothing.

Instead, he turned, slowly taking in the room—the rich new color of the walls, the strategic placement of the desk, the way the light spilled in through the unobstructed windows. Isadora found herself holding her breath in the meantime. His expression gave nothing away—and if the staff were to be believed, then Evan was not going to be happy in the slightest.

“You did this?” he finally asked though the answer was obvious. “Did you have any assistance?”

“I… well, the staff helped me, of course,” she stammered. “You could say that I supervised them.”

Evan shook his head, “No, you’re trying to do that thing again that you always do.” He turned to face her, and Isadora could not quite place the expression.

Was he happy? Mad? Annoyed? It was maddening just how neutral he was able to keep his expression at all times.

“ What thing?”

“The thing where you shrink yourself and give credit to others—” He held her gaze. “—but I shall not let you this time. This was all your doing.”

Isadora felt her breath hitch at the slight raise in his voice. “Do you wish for me to return it back to how it was?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Evan scoffed, and Isadora found herself confused again.

“I—what?” she blinked. What is the problem? Why can he never say outright what he means?

“You seem to have my words confused, Isadora,” he said, crossing the room. “I am not questioning whether I approve of it.”

“Then what are you questioning?”

“I am questioning why you feel the need to diminish your role in it.” He took a step closer. “You supervised. You made decisions. You saw what needed to change, and you changed it. That was you. Or was that someone else?”

Isadora felt as though she was being held to scrutiny. She drew a deep breath, gathering herself.

“I was only trying to gauge your reaction, Evan—” She used his name deliberately. “—but you seemed to have turned this whole thing into something else entirely.”

“I think that this is an opportunity for you to learn something from me.”

Isadora’s eyes widened at the words.

“Yes,” he continued, smirking now, “you are not the only one giving lessons. Consider this a lesson from me—never shirk your role in something like this. Take credit when you need to.”

Isadora felt her cheeks warm. She had anticipated that this would turn into a lecture of sorts, but he had made a good point. All her life, she had been used to letting others take the credit for the work she had done.

“What you’re asking me to do,” she started, biting down on her lip, “is to act more assertively about my contributions.”

“Precisely that.”

“Oh, well,” she pressed her lips together, fighting back a smile. “But you still have not told me, do you like it or not?”

“What do you wish to hear?” he said, smoothly. Isadora was all too aware of just how close he was standing to her now—it made her lose her train of thought slightly.

“I…” She twisted her hands in front of her. “I only wish to know what you think in earnest. I only wanted to improve the space as it gave me something to keep myself busy.”

“I see.” He pursed his lips. “So, all this great effort that you put in was merely to give you something to do? Nothing else?”

“No, I suppose not,” she managed to push out though her uncertain tone suggested otherwise.

“Hmm.” He stepped past her. “So, if I told you that I actually loathed it, you wouldn’t care?”

“You loathe it?” Her eyes widened, as though her worst suspicions had been confirmed.

“Always so quick to assume the worst,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Only because you never give me a straight answer about anything,” she huffed, growing more frustrated by the minute.

“Then, let me make it simpler.” He closed the distance between the two of them again. “I absolutely do not loathe it, but I do think this is rather bold of you. I cannot decide whether I admire that—or find it reckless.”

“I—me? Reckless?”

“Yes,” he smirked. “Very reckless indeed, changing my study without so much as a word. I am sure that the staff must have warned you against it, and yet you decided to make the changes anyway.”

“You were never here,” she argued, planting her hands on her hips. That was reason enough.

“So, you felt that gave you the right?”

“I felt it gave me an opportunity,” she corrected. “And one that I took because, as I have already told you, this place really needed the changes.”

He surveyed the room again, and Isadora found herself holding her breath. “I suppose I shall have to admit that it is… improved.”

“That is all you have to say?” Isadora was on the brink of her patience.

Impossible, impossible man.

That was the only way to describe him. “You have been toying with me all this time, and I have had quite enough of it. In fact?—”

“I love it,” he interrupted her, and the relief that flooded through her felt like pure ecstasy. She realized that this was something Evan was quite astute at—bringing her to the brink of frustration and then giving her what she needed to hear all along.

“If you are only saying that to appease?—”

“I am telling you directly what I think,” he cut her off again. “I love it.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, glancing away before the warmth of a blush spread across her face. He loved it.

“ Oh? ” he echoed, smirking. “After all of those demands for an answer, that is all you have to say?”

“What else would you have me say?” she retorted though she was unable to keep the smile off her face.

“I don’t know,” he mused. “Perhaps ‘thank you, Your Grace, for your patience as I needlessly panicked over a perfectly well-executed endeavor’?”

“I did not needlessly panic,” she defended.

“Yes, you did,” he smirked. “It was rather endearing to witness, actually. So determined to please me.”

His words took on a darker edge towards the end of his sentence, and Isadora felt a shiver run down her spine. An unspoken tension hung between them, almost as if he, too, felt the same as she did in that moment.

“I was…” she scrambled to justify herself though her throat had gone suddenly quite dry. “You were the only one who had not seen it. And I suppose… I wanted you to see what I had done.”

“So many words to say,” he said slowly, smirking. “You were seeking my approval.”

“I—” she stopped herself, flustered. “That is not?—”

“Let’s not deny the truth, Isadora.” His voice was like velvet. “That will not do either of us any good.”

Heavens. He always knew exactly how to fluster her.

“Well, I do not wish to take up anymore of your time,” she said abruptly, turning on her heel. “I shall leave you to enjoy the place.”

“Without you?” He blocked her path before she could leave. “Because, I have to admit, that you do quite suit this place.”

“Why, yes. Very well then,” Isadora tried to rush out the words, but before she could finish, the room tilted. A sudden wave of exhaustion overcame her—overwhelming as her limbs weakened beneath her.

“Oh, ” she murmured as she swayed, losing her balance.

Within seconds, a pair of strong arms held her up. One firmly at her waist and the other clasping her arm.

“ Isadora, ” Evan’s voice came panicked. His smirk had disappeared.

She barely heard him but clung onto him as her eyelashes fluttered and the dizziness took over her body.

Evan swore under his breath before swiftly guiding her toward the nearest couch, his hands gripping her just enough to ensure she did not fall. He made sure that she was firmly laid down as he barked instructions to the staff to bring her a glass of water.

“I’m fine, really.” She tried to sit up, but he lowered her back down. “It was just—well…”

Truthfully, even Isadora did not know what exactly had just happened to her.

“You and I have vastly different definitions of fine, then,” he said firmly but not in a manner that was unkind.

Before she could answer, she heard the rustle of fabric and then the feeling of something heavy being draped around her shoulders.

Evan’s jacket.

“Oh, this is really not necessary,” she tried to argue though the warmth of the fabric—or perhaps the gesture—comforted her instantly.

“I do not recall asking you,” he said, firmly. “Look at what you’ve done to yourself. You need to take better care of yourself. Have you eaten anything since this morning?”

Now that he mentioned it, she realized that she had not.

“I suppose I’ve been busy and just… forgot,” she admitted. And then, she saw him.

He was left in nothing but a crisp white shirt—the fabric clinging to his muscles. The sight disarmed her momentarily. It was so different than what she was used to seeing him in.

Suddenly, she felt all too aware of how she was laid out on the sofa as he hovered over her, watching her with a concerned expression. She found herself feeling lightheaded again—but this time, it had nothing to do with the fact that she had not eaten.

“We need to feed you,” Evan continued, seemingly unfazed as he took a seat besides her. “After all, we cannot have the Duchess fainting on us again, can we?”

“I did not faint.” She tried to sit up, but Evan’s gaze made her freeze in place again.

“You would have if I had not been here,” he sighed, picking up the glass that the maid that brought in and bringing it to her lips. “Drink this at least.”

Isadora took a slow sip, the cool water soothing the dryness in her throat. As she lowered the glass, a smile curled at her lips.

“What is it now?” Evan asked her, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Nothing,” she muttered, the smile still firmly in place. “It’s just… well, look at you being a gentleman. I suppose my lessons have been working after all.”

Evan did not answer immediately, but when he spoke again, his voice was low. “I suppose they have. I would not get used to it, though.”

“Oh, I would not dare,” she continued, teasingly now. “I am lucky enough that the Duke has been kind to me this evening.”

Their gaze met again, but this time, something in the room had shifted. The mood had gone from concerned panic to something else entirely. A flush of warmth gathered around her cheeks.

“I feel fine now,” she broke the silence finally and sat up in an attempt to distract herself. “Truly. You must believe me.”

But the moment she moved to stand, Evan’s hand shot out, fingers wrapping gently around her wrist.

“Evan—”

“You are not going anywhere.”

Isadora’s pulse quickened at the authority in his voice.

“I am fine,” she reiterated though there was little conviction behind the words. “Let me go.”

Evan did not listen. Instead, he pulled her closer to his chest. One of his arms wrapped around her waist, steadying her. For a long, stretched moment, they did not move. He was far too close now, so much that she could hear the sounds of his frantic breathing. Her own breath quickened, her hands pressing lightly against his chest, but she made no effort to push him away. Evan’s gaze dropped to her lips.

“Isadora.” Evan’s gaze did not leave her lips. “I…”

She did not know who it was that closed the distance between them. Perhaps they had acted in unison. All she knew was that a moment later, they were kissing one another.

His hold tightened around her waist, pulling her up to him to make up for the difference in their height. His lips moved softly against her own, and Isadora felt the world fall away around her.

This. This was even better than the first time they had kissed. She wondered why anyone would want to do anything else when such a luxury was available.

God help her. She kissed him back, just as tenderly.

When they pulled apart, both of them were out of breath but staring into each other’s eyes. It was an intimacy so far removed from the limits of their agreement.

“What is this thing between us?” Isadora blurted out. She could not stop herself at that moment—the vulnerability of the moment had seeped into all other aspects of her being. “This… this push and pull. One moment you’re here with me like this, and then you pull away and are nowhere to be found.”

Evan blinked, surprised by the question. “We do not need to ruin the moment, sweetheart.”

“ Yes, we do,” she insisted, not letting him weasel his way out without giving her a straight answer. “And then you ask why it is that I find you so confusing. You kiss me as though I mean something to you, and you get angry when other men try and speak to me. Was it not jealousy that you felt when that lord spoke to me at dinner the other evening?”

Evan opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“And you cannot even admit it to me.” Isadora felt her frustration growing. The tenderness of the moment had now long passed. “Is it that you’re only playing with my feelings? Is this a game to you?”

“ This is not a game,” he corrected her, grabbing hold of her wrists again.

“Then what is it? What is it that we are doing here? Because I do not remember signing up for this. You’ve broken the rules?—”

“I’ve broken the rules because you have left me with no choice.” He let go of her wrists but only so that he could frame her face with his hands, tilting her chin upward. “I was jealous that day. It does not make me happy to suddenly have these feelings over which I have no control. I hated that you smiled at him. I hated that, for even a second, he had your focus, and I did not.”

Isadora stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to breathe.

“Isadora.” He looked straight into her eyes, and all she found staring back at her was sincerity. “I have spent my life never wanting. But you entered my life, and all I do now is want .”

Evan leaned closer, his lips mere inches from hers. Her heart shuddered in her chest. Never once had she imagined him saying these words to her.

“I want you in ways I cannot even begin to name,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. “So, no , this is not a game for me.”

A part of her was flying high in the air at the confession alone, but she knew that it was not enough. Tomorrow, he could easily deny it.

“Evan,” she whispered, desperate for more than just half-formed truths, “what does that mean? What do I mean to you?”

His hands slid down, curling lightly around her arms. “I did not want this, but I have… grown fond of you in ways that I never have for anyone else. You have acquired a place in my heart, all without ever even asking for my permission.”

There it was. The words that Isadora did not know how badly she had needed to hear before this moment.

“Evan.” Her own voice was hoarse, as though she was on the brink of bursting into tears but not ones of sadness. “You are not alone in feeling this. I… I feel for you, too. I do all these things around the house only to receive your approval. Only so that you want me enough not to seek out another woman.”

“There was never another woman,” he corrected her. “I would be a foolish man if I was to look at another woman when you are in my life.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I am not keen on lying to you.” He pulled her closer. She let her head rest on his chest, engulfed by his embrace.

In that moment, she felt for the first time what her friends had always droned on about. That feeling of unexpected bliss, a connection that felt too strong to sever.

Love.

“Evan—” she opened her mouth to speak, to admit to him that this was what it was, but he brought a finger to her lips.

“I want you to rest now, sweetheart,” his own voice came out hoarse. “Please. For me. I shall have the servants send food to your quarters, and then you will get the rest that you deserve.”

Evan’s thumb brushed against her cheek for the briefest moment before he stepped away, the warmth of his embrace vanishing. She immediately felt the loss.

Isadora swallowed hard but opted not to argue. The moment had drained her and lightened her at the same time. It felt fragile—like one wrong word would break it.

“I shall rest,” she finally said.

A small expression of relief flickered across Evan’s features, and he dipped down to kiss her hand. “Thank you.”

He called for the maid to escort her to her room, but as she left him, all she could think of was what he had admitted to her. And what she had discovered about herself.

I love him. God help her, she loved him more than she had ever loved anything else in her life.