Page 30 of Unraveled By the Duke
The air smelled of old leather and wood. To Alexander, it was the smell of knowledge and history. The history of his family, held in the books and even scrolls that filled the shelves, collected by his predecessors.
“Not even a window, Alexander? Why this room?” Lavinia complained.
Alexander closed his eyes as he knelt before the fireplace. He slowly counted to five before replying, “It is a place for contemplation and study, Lavinia. To shut out the world.”
“It is very… you. Always trying to keep the world outside—and by world, I mean the ton.”
She sat and carefully arranged her skirt to show it off to its best as well as herself.
“Yes, the ton is where your world begins and ends, I remember,” Alexander said, sitting opposite her.
“Is that criticism?” Lavinia asked, skirting close to the limits of propriety with her tone. Just a touch of insolence, probably what she thought she was owed.
“An observation,” Alexander corrected. “What did you want to discuss, Lavinia? I take it you did not come to the museum for any other reason than to find me.”
Lavinia laughed, a delicate melodic sound. “I thought I would find you here when your stepmother told me that you were not at home. I thought I would try here before seeking you at Finsbury. That is where your other house in town is situated?”
“It is.”
“It took me some time to overcome my anger and grief at losing you, Alexander,” she continued, looking at him from under long, fluttering lashes.
Her bosom heaved as though she breathed deeper out of trepidation. There were spots of color in her cheeks.
She was pretty. Once, Alexander had considered her beautiful—physically, at least. Now, she was merely a candle next to the sun that was Celia.
For the hundredth time, he put Celia out of his mind. Or tried to.
Love is nothing but weakness. It did not serve my father, and I cannot see it serving any purpose other than to slow, drag, and leave one open to gossip and scandal. Love can hang!
“I find you on the floor, kissing another woman, and… Oh my, I apologize. I told myself I would not get upset.” Lavinia fanned her face with her hand, tears welling up in her eyes.
Alexander glanced away, refusing to play her game. Then, with a growl in his throat, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her without looking. That was the gentlemanly thing to do.
As she took it, her fingers brushed his. He snatched his hand away and walked to the other side of the room, taking an interest in a book.
Surely she does not mean to attempt seduction. There is nothing between us now. There can be nothing.
“Again, I apologize for my actions.”
Alexander could say nothing else. He could not help that wine had been spilled on him or that Celia had chosen to attack him, leading to them both being in a heap on the floor. But he should have ignored his baser urges at that point. Extricated himself from Celia’s hold and her family’s plans at the same time.
“You do not need to, though it is most gratifying to hear,” Lavinia sniffed. “I believe you have been manipulated by a very clever young woman. I wanted to speak to you to warn you. I have enough feelings for you as my former intended that I could not simply wash my hands of what we had. Could not walk away and feel nothing.”
There was a plea on her face and in her voice.
Lavinia could be irritating, that was true, but was she a wicked person? No. Was she amanipulativeperson?
No, not in his experience. But then he could not believe the same of Celia.
“I thank you for your concern, but I had no choice. It is done. Celia and I are married,” Alexander said.
“And yet here you are, on your wedding day. Not with your wife, who is not in your family home. Not in the bosom of your family. I see that the marriage is one you have been forced into, and therefore, not one you wish to remain in. I see that you do not love her. I know you never loved me, but I think there was enough regard between us that… maybe… with time…?”
She followed him across the room and reached for his hand, but he put both hands behind his back. He regarded her coldly, waiting for her to drop her hand.
“That is a matter of pure speculation. I am married. What makes you suspect Celia?” he asked.
“I will not speak ill of the woman you have chosen to marry. Not yet. Suffice it to say, I have concerns about her character. Her morality and her motives. I cannot believe it of anyone, but I think she has orchestrated this marriage to enrich herself and her family. I say this knowing I am exposing my heart to you, leaving myself vulnerable to your anger and hers.”
