Page 73 of A Touch of Charm
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thea stood stifflyin Andre’s treatment room, her hands folded neatly as though that might calm their trembling. Andre’s treatment room was neat as an operating room—polished wood shelves lined with jars of tinctures, a single vase graced with lavender perched on the windowsill, and the faint aroma of herbs lingering in the air. It felt too ordered, too clinical for the storm that swirled inside her. She leaned forward slightly as Andre moved behind the desk toward the window, when there was a commotion outside.
How had it all unraveled this fast? She had made a mistake—a terrible one—baring her feelings to Mary in a moment of rare weakness. And Mary, well-meaning but utterly tactless, had seen fit to lay them bare to Andre. Thea’s heart clenched, her thoughts a dull roar of panic. What must he think of her now? The runaway princess, flitting through England like a moth lost and without direction—and worse, a wanton woman who had foolishly lost her heart.
But none of that was true and he ought to know.
If he didn’t, she’d tell him.
Nobody had ever looked at her as he had when they’d rolled down the hill in the park abutting the gardens at Cloverdale House. Nobody had ever truly seen Thea—beyond the princess—quite as he had.
No, she wouldn’t hide. She’d decided that when she’d stood in front of the modiste’s looking glass on Regent Street, her back straight even as her hands shook. The silk gown they tailored that day had served as more than adornment. It was a stand—a vow to herself. Hiding had never saved her, not from her past, and most certainly not from her own emotions. But that didn’t make this any easier. Thea wanted, needed, a moment alone. Just the two of them. The weight of her unspoken words pressed against her ribcage, but she couldn’t seem to find a way to begin. Would he listen? Could she explain herself? Her gaze flickered to Andre, who still hadn’t looked at her, and her stomach tightened. She felt as though she were teetering on the edge of a precipice, the silence hanging between them a thread just waiting to snap.
More noise came from outside and Mary joined Andre at his office window to see what was happening.
“Two carriages have arrived!” she announced.
Andre nodded. “Everyone is back.”
“You mean, the nurse is here now?” Mary shouted excitedly. “Miss Folsham?”
Andre gave a friendly nod, and Mary clasped her little hands together in glee. “Can I go speak to her?”
“Of course, if Miss Thea allows it.” Andre’s eyes met hers, and she saw his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Could he feel the same as she did about their time alone coming to an end? The quiet practice has been a refuge, especially with Stan’s watchful eye back at Cloverdale House.
“All the doctors? Everyone is back?” Thea asked, but she could see that Andre understood her question; more people meant no chance to be alone.
A door clicked, and footsteps became audible. There were murmurs of voices and a thump. They were probably carrying their trunks inside.
“Go and introduce yourself to the nurse,” Thea said, eyes glued to Andre’s.
“Her name is Wendy,” Andre added.
Thea opened the door to Andre’s office for Mary, and she eagerly escaped, calling to the people in the hall.
On the other side of the door.
A solid oak structure and walls shielded them but there was just no time.
I’ll make time.
Thea locked the door and left the knob in the keyhole.
“I-I… ahem… I’m sorry about Mary,” Thea started.
“I’m not.”
“She shouldn’t have told you—”
“I’m glad she did. I feel the same.”
Thea’s heart raced as if it tried to jump out and she felt lightheaded—as if she were in a dream and Andre was the only one there with her.
Finally alone.
Andre closed the distance to her but remained silent. His eyes were so dark and hungry that Thea’s heart pounded, she forgot to breathe, her words dissolving into nothing as her gaze locked on Andre’s. He stood just a step away, too close and yet not nearly close enough. The flickering lamplight cast shadows across his face, sharpening the intensity in his dark eyes. His admission echoed in her ears—he felt the same. She wasn’t imagining this incredible, terrifying connection pulling her toward him.
