Chapter 6

There are questions that cannot be ignored. They linger in the air, seep into one’s thoughts, and make the heart beat faster. Some choose to address them immediately; others put them off. But sooner or later, the moment comes when avoiding them is no longer an option.

The rest of the dinner passed in silence, interrupted only by the clinking of silverware against porcelain. Isabella, sitting across from Damian, could feel the tension in the air grow almost tangible. He looked tired, with a faint shadow of irritation on his face, which only heightened her desire not to disturb him.

He slowly brought the glass to his lips, absentmindedly studying his reflection in the silver plate, and seemed ready to tear apart anyone who dared to break the silence.

Isabella remained silent too. She wasn’t a coward, but her ability to read people told her this wasn’t the day to test the Duke’s patience.

The servants, bent over the trays, watched the pair with interest, hoping to catch a spark of drama. But when it became clear their expectations wouldn’t be met, they began to lose interest.

Had they known Isabella better, however, they would have realized she wasn’t one to back down.

She glanced at Jane, peacefully finishing her dessert, then took a deep breath and, mustering all her resolve, broke the silence:

“We need to talk about Jane.”

Damian, holding his wine glass, set it back on the table and slowly rose to his feet.

“I’m tired. We’ll talk later.”

He said it calmly—coldly, even—but his voice carried one message: the conversation was over.

Isabella watched as he walked toward the door, how his hand touched the doorknob, how the heavy door closed smoothly behind him.

The servants, on the other hand, perked up. The conversation had been postponed, but the tension was rising.

Some men don’t like to talk about their problems. They prefer to pretend those problems don’t exist. But unfortunately, the longer they wait, the harder it becomes to avoid the conversation. Isabella knew this all too well. And yet, Damian Hartess was unusually persistent in his refusal to speak about Jane.

For the past few days, he had seemingly vanished every time she brought up the topic. His schedule was suddenly filled with urgent matters, headaches, impromptu meetings, and even—miraculously—an unexpected interest in books from the library. The servants had already begun whispering, placing bets on who would break first—Isabella or the Duke.

But today, she had decided she would wait no longer.

The garden was her refuge in moments of frustration. While Jane slept soundly, Isabella had decided to take a walk among the blooming roses. But her thoughts of fresh air and peace scattered the moment she saw a familiar figure.

Damian stood with his back to her, gazing at the flowers, while Jack chattered animatedly beside him. They were far enough away that Isabella couldn’t make out the conversation. And to be fair, she assumed it wasn’t anything important.

“If it really were important,” she thought, “they’d be discussing it in the study.”

Seizing the opportunity, Isabella made her way toward them.

Jack, spotting her first, leaned slightly toward the Duke and whispered:

“Lady Isabella is here.”

But before Damian could even turn around, she was already beside them.

Some men are used to being in control. They build walls, hide behind masks, and are convinced they can steer any conversation. But even the most cold-blooded gentlemen can be caught off guard…

“What excuse will you come up with this time?” Isabella crossed her arms and added with sarcasm, “Don’t tell me you hurt yourself on a rose thorn.”

Damian smirked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Beside him, Jack sensed the tension thickening. He discreetly stepped back a few paces, seeking a safe distance. The Duke might pretend he had everything under control, but Jack knew—Isabella’s patience was wearing thin.

“Why are you avoiding the topic of Jane?” Isabella’s voice was steady, but a flash of anger lit her eyes.

“I’m not avoiding it,” Damian replied coolly. “I’ve been busy with important matters, as you may have noticed.”

“You’re still avoiding it,” Isabella folded her arms tighter across her chest.

Damian didn’t like being forced into anything. Especially when accused of something he didn’t believe he was guilty of. He had done everything he could for Isabella and her niece. He gave them a roof over their heads, safety, a secure future. That should’ve been enough.

But before he could say it, Isabella spoke:

“Maybe you think you’ve done enough just by taking her in. But that’s not enough. She’s a child. She needs to know who her family is. She needs to be surrounded by love and care.”

Damian frowned.

“You’re asking for too much. It should’ve been enough that she has a home and a decent dowry.”

Isabella shook her head.

“I said she needs a family.”

She paused, studying Damian closely.

“I agreed to come to this estate so Jane could grow accustomed to it. So I could make sure she was in good hands. Is it really so hard for you to show even a little kindness to a child?”

Damian clenched his jaw.

“I’m not obliged to.”

Isabella froze. Then, with a sudden step forward and fire in her eyes, she exclaimed:

“Then keep living like the stubborn mule you are!”

She turned, lifted the hem of her dress with both hands, and stormed out of the garden.

Jack glanced at the Duke.

“I think she’s a little upset, Your Grace.”

But Damian said nothing. He merely stood in silence, watching Isabella disappear among the blooming roses.