Page 12 of The Wallflower and the Duke
Lie.
Last night he hadn’t slept well. Nightmares again. Almost always since returning from France. But last evening he had thought she had been there beside him. Could have sworn her hand cupped his cheek and pulled his focus to her dark eyes and whispered until he calmed. Could have sworn the moonlight kissed her bare shoulder from where her nightgown slipped low. Smelled her perfume.
And her smile.
Christ, that smile of hers would forever strike at the center of his heart.
But no matter. That, too, had been a dream. The memory of her. The wish for what could have been.
She deserved someone who could love her.
But it wasn’t as if Alfie was a good match for her either. Not now. What sort of future could they share if he couldn’t even leave his room? Sure, she was a wallflower, but she lit up when she experienced the world around her. He had watched her often enough from across the ballroom.
A soft rustle sounded outside his window.
For a moment, he nearly sprang to his feet, then decided to wait. He hid behind the paper and stifled a laugh as Marjorie cursed under her breath, before crawling through his window and tumbling down onto the floor in a heap.
She sat up, brushing her long brown hair, the soft dimple in her chin prominent as she shrugged. “No books to the head today? Careful, I might fall under the impression you enjoy my visits.”
I do.
“I have a door,” he said instead. “And a parlor.”
“But you won’t leave your room, so how am I able to pay you a visit?”
“What makes you believe I wish to have you call on me?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, then rolled over to jump onto her feet. It was then he noted the large bag at her boots.
“Had enough of the country? Ready to run back to London?”
“I think it’s high time you see someone other than your own reflection. Your manners are rusty.”
“You were never one to stand on ceremony, Jo.”
Again, she shrugged, then removed a peach from her bag. “If you must know, I brought my manuscript here today so I may work, and you may endure my company because I am an excellent friend in that way.”
He never suffered through her company. She was not a burden. Alfie was afraid, however, of how badly he wanted her. Worried the truth would work its way out between them one way or another.
“I don’t mean… That is, you do not have to suffer because I cannot get out of my own way.”
The way her eyes snapped to his mouth was altogether delicious. He set down the paper on his lap, hiding the unfortunate and sudden cockstand in his trousers.
“Who said anything about suffering? Nonsense. But I would do with a spot of tea.”
Just as quickly, her attention shifted, and she stood, surveying his room before settling over at the desk by the large window overlooking the hedge maze and rose garden in the rear park of Hollyvale.
“You are merely the Minotaur at the moment, my dear friend. I am here to free you. I am your Theseus.”
As if Alfie hadn’t thought of that symbolism before. He did so appreciate her enthusiasm for Greek mythology, but it meant nothing when the monster was inside of him, and he was trapped in this room with plenty of exits but no will to leave.
It was safer here.
If he remained, he wouldn’t fail anyone else. Anyone beside himself. But he had made peace with that sometime around Christmastide last year.
Instead of answering, he rose and rang for tea, then strode across the room and drew back the curtain panel to allow more light to fall across the desk.
“What else might I prepare for you?”
