Page 11 of Healing the Duke's Desires
“She was a very wise woman.” Mr. Stirling nodded, bringing him back to the present moment. “She also knew the soothing power of warm milk and biscuits.”
Alexander grinned. “So, that is where that old wisdom comes from.”
“Indeed, Your Grace.” Mr. Stirling spoke seriously, although it was obvious that he was enjoying this conversation as much as Alexander was. “Is there anything else you require?”
Alexander shook his head. “No, thank you, Stirling. That will be all for now. I’ll manage from here.” He hoped he had managed to sound composed, regardless of the whirlwind of emotions inside of him.
“Very well, Your Grace.” Mr. Stirling bowed once. “I shall be up, if you need me.”
“No need, my good man.” Alexander smiled. “I’ll be happy to know in the morning that at least one of us had a good night’s rest.”
Mr. Stirling nodded silently to that, as always, then quietly exited the room. Alone once more, Alexander sighed heavily and picked up the cup of milk. The warm liquid felt soothing as it slid down his throat, offering a small measure of comfort amidst the turmoil in his heart.
He reached for one of the biscuits, absently nibbling on it as he stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace. Mr. Stirling meant well, trying to alleviate his worries, but his troubles ran much deeper than a cup of milk and biscuits could repair.
As he sat there, he reminded himself that he couldn’t let his emotions consume him. The Season had only just begun, and he had responsibilities as a duke that he needed to attend to. He couldn’t allow his personal feelings to interfere. Helen and Rose counted on him. They mattered the most now. His own thoughts and doubts mattered less.
With renewed determination, he set aside the cup and plate, preparing to retire for the night. He couldn’t solve his inner conflict in one evening, but he also couldn’t let it keep him up all night.
As he stood, he looked back at the flickering flames, hoping the fire would help to burn away his uncertainties and fears. He needed to find a way to distance himself from Emily. Perhaps the easiest way would be simply to avoid her.
Although that was easier said than done. The Season was in full bloom, and her being a lady with high chances of marriage, that meant she would be attending every ball that Rose would be invited to. Stumbling onto each other again was inevitable. So, hoping to avoid her was a silly strategy. He had to come up with something else.
Come morning, and you’ll know what to do,he thought to himself.
Right now, he was under the impression of everything, of the events from the ball, of the whisky that was hitting a little too close for comfort, of the soothing effect of the milk and biscuits. Yes. He would try to get some rest, and in the morning, everything would be much clearer. Daybreak would allow him to find the wisdom to navigate the turbulent waters of his heart.
Those were the thoughts he fell asleep with, having no idea of the magnitude of the Pandora’s box he had just opened.
Chapter 7
Emily’s fingers glided effortlessly over the keys of the pianoforte, but the music felt distant and disconnected from her racing thoughts. She tried to play her favorite song but her mind refused to recognize it, and instead, to her horror, the notes seemed to blur into a jumble of unrecognizable sounds.
However, when she gazed at her mother, crocheting on the chaise lounge, or at Sarah, standing before her easel and painting a landscape, they didn’t seem to find anything wrong with the music. It was all in Emily’s mind, which was solely focused on the Duke of Ravenswood.
It was as if this man had imprinted himself on her thoughts, his features vividly etched in her mind. His intense gaze, the way his lips curved into an amused half-smile, and the touch of his hand against hers when he offered her the handkerchief—it all played on a continuous loop in her head, without any sign of stopping.
Emily tried to push the memories aside, to focus on the music in front of her, but it was a futile effort. Her heart fluttered with every passing thought of him, and she found herself yearning for another encounter, another chance to be near him.
She scolded herself inwardly, chiding her own foolishness. She barely knew the duke, and yet, he had managed to stir emotions within her that she had never felt before. It was as if he had cast a spell over her, and she was powerless to break free from its enchantment.
“Well, you seem to be in a rather good mood with that mysterious smile,” Emily’s mother said.
Upon hearing this, Emily played the wrong note, her fingers tensing up. She lifted her gaze, and both her mother and Sarah were looking oddly at her.
“I don’t have a mysterious smile,” Emily said defensively, to what her mother’s eyebrow raised in puzzlement.
“I didn’t mean you, dear,” her mother clarified. “I meant your sister.”
“Oh,” Emily said, looking down at the pianoforte as if it might open up and swallow her alive, to save her from the embarrassment. But when she looked up again, she realized the attention wasn’t on her any longer. It was on Sarah, who still had that exact, mysterious smile on her face.
“I just had a very nice time last night, that is all,” Sarah replied, blushing a little.
“And does that very nice time have anything to do with the young gentleman you danced with several times?” her mother inquired amusedly.
Emily remembered the man. She also remembered how radiant Sarah was while dancing with him, and it was more than obvious that she was smitten with him. Emily was glad her sister had found someone whose presence she enjoyed, someone she could learn more about and perhaps even fall in love more deeply with. At least one of them was given this privilege.
“Your father was too busy speaking with the marquess and the other gentlemen present,” their mother continued. “But I am certain that he would love to exchange a few words with this young man and see what he is truly like.”
