Page 31 of Healing the Duke's Desires
Emily’s eyes met his, a subtle storm of emotions playing across her features. He sensed her surprise, her uncertainty, and perhaps a hint of vulnerability. He had spoken with the intention of doing the right thing, of distancing himself from a situation that could complicate both of their lives.
She didn’t say anything at first. This made his heart waver for one brief moment, but it was better for everyone that things ended right here, before even starting. “It is for the best, Emily.” This time, he used her first name, underlining his sentiments.
She refused to remain silent, her voice unwavering as she spoke her truth. “I don’t agree.” Her words were so simple, yet they held so much courage, so much conviction. He couldn’t help but admire her at that moment. “I don’t think it was a mistake.” She stared right at him upon saying those words.
The vulnerability of her confession was palpable, and he found himself drawn into the intensity of her gaze. It was a moment of revelation, a glimpse into the depths of their shared emotions that he hadn’t anticipated.
He could see her chest rising and falling in that tight gown, a hint of rosy pink skin, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like under the gentle touch of his fingertips. He tried to banish that thought, but the more he tried not to think about it, the more the idea captivated him.
Just as Emily was about to say something else, Rose’s appearance disrupted the charged atmosphere, a timely interruption that allowed them both to take a step back from the precipice of a conversation that could have altered their lives forever.
“There you are, Alexander!” Rose chirped at them both. “Lady Emily, how lovely to see you here.”
“You as well, Lady Rose.” Emily smiled back politely.
“Do tell me that you two loved the first poem as much as I did,” Rose gushed, her hand pressed to her chest slightly theatrically.
“Obviously not as much as you did,” Alexander teased, grateful for the shift in focus. The conversation transitioned smoothly, allowing him to temporarily set aside the tumult of emotions he had just experienced with Emily.
“The power of her words, my goodness!” Rose continued, oblivious to the earth-shattering moment she had just interrupted. “And the similes…”
As they engaged in the discussion about the poem, Alexander’s mind remained preoccupied. He couldn’t shake the memory of Emily’s unwavering gaze, her confession lingering in his thoughts like a haunting echo. However, what he also could not have known was the fact that in places such as this one, even walls had ears.
And his conversation with Emily about their kiss had been overheard by someone who, with this knowledge in their hands, had the power to rewrite their destinies.
Chapter 18
The sound of Emily’s pianoforte permeated the music room as her fingers glided effortlessly over the polished keys with a graceful touch.
The melodic tune, slow but not melancholic, seemed to echo the swirling emotions inside of her. Each note felt like a delicate brushstroke on a canvas, painting a picture of her innermost thoughts and desires. Since she had no talent for painting, the images would forever remain inside her mind, finding an outlet in music.
This very same music flowed from her fingertips, carrying with it a sense of introspection and yearning. The notes danced through the air, creating a serene atmosphere that enveloped the room in its embrace. Her eyes were half-closed, lost in the music’s embrace, her heart pouring into each delicate phrase.
As she played, her mind wandered, memories of stolen glances and shared moments with Alexander interweaving with the melodies she created. The pianoforte seemed to resonate with her emotions, each chord a reflection of the feelings she couldn’t put into words—most importantly, his last words that their kiss was a mistake.
She could not accept that. Sherefusedto accept that. The music took on a more somber sound, leading her onto a journey of self-discovery and even deeper contemplation. Music had always held the power to unlock the depths of her very soul, and this time was no different. She knew what she wanted.
Her feelings were clear as day, but Alexander seemed to be pushing her away. She saw something in his eyes, something that didn’t allow her to give up on him, on what they could be together. She had to show him somehow that their kiss had happened for a reason, that perhaps fate wanted them to be together.
Suddenly, before the song had come to an end, the door burst open. Emily beheld the sight of her mother, waving a letter in her hand, fingers clutching it tightly. Emily’s own fingers, on the other hand, froze above the pianoforte keys instantly, cutting off the music sharply. She lifted her gaze to meet her mother’s, whose visage seemed to express both intrigue and anticipation.
“Emily, my dear,” she said almost breathlessly as if she had been running all the way there. “I have something to share with you.”
With an inviting smile, she approached Emily, extending the letter toward her daughter. The letter had been opened, revealing an elegant script that hinted at its significance. For a moment, Emily thought that perhaps Alexander had written to her, but that handwriting could only belong to a woman, with those flowery swirls and the hint of jasmine perfume that seemed to ooze from the very paper.
Emily’s fingers trembled slightly as she reached out to accept it. Her eyes darted across the words hastily, drinking in the message.
Dear Lady Ashfordshire,
I have had the pleasure of meeting your older daughter on several occasions, and she seems like such a lovely young lady with whom I obviously have very much in common. It would be ever so wonderful if you and your daughters could join me tomorrow for afternoon tea and some pleasant conversation.
Respectfully yours,
The Duchess of Montpelier
Before Emily could say anything or have the words sink into her consciousness, her mother took over. “It is an invitation, Emily,” she said, her voice tinged with enthusiasm and pride, accentuating the word itself.
“It seems you have left quite an impression on the Duchess of Montpelier when you met her, and now she has extended the honor of an invitation to join her for tea at her estate tomorrow. You know, she is a woman known for her grace, wit, and esteemed social standing.”
