Chapter 14
Diana sat before the dressing table, drawing the brush slowly through the length of her hair, though her attention had drifted far from the simple task.
The fire in the hearth had burned low, its quiet glow casting warm flickers across the bedchamber walls, and the house itself had settled into that particular stillness that came only at night, when the servants had retired, and even the corridors seemed to hold their breath.
She had been trying, with limited success, not to think about the afternoon. About the hedges. About Alexander standing far too close beside her, while the rest of the garden disappeared from her awareness.
Diana pressed her lips together as the memory returned with infuriating clarity. The brush slowed in her hand as she recalled the feeling of his fingers against her wrist, the way his voice had lowered just enough.
“You are rather self-possessed,” she muttered softly to her reflection, repeating the answer she had given him earlier.
It had not been an answer at all, and she knew it.
Her cheeks warmed faintly at the recollection.
She had spent the remainder of the afternoon carefully avoiding looking at him directly, though that had not prevented her from noticing his presence beside her, nor the occasional accidental brush of his hand against hers that had sent the same unsettling spark up her arm each time.
Diana set the brush down with a quiet sigh.
She rose from the chair and moved toward the bed, smoothing the folds of her nightgown as she walked. The silk was cool against her skin, and she welcomed the softness of it as a small distraction from the restless thoughts still circling her mind.
Perhaps she was imagining things. Still…
She moved toward the hearth and knelt briefly to adjust the small iron screen before the fire, watching the flames stir and brighten slightly as the embers shifted.
Still, she could not quite dismiss the way he had looked at her.
Diana rose again and crossed the room toward the dressing table to remove the final pin from her hair.
The long dark strands fell loose over her shoulders as she set the pin aside, and for a moment she simply stood there in the quiet glow of the firelight, her mind wandering once again to the memory of the afternoon.
She could almost hear his voice again. Her pulse fluttered.
Then, suddenly, a knock sounded at the door.
Diana froze.
The sound was soft, restrained, yet unmistakable in the silence of the late hour. For a moment, she simply stared at the door across the room, her hand still resting against the edge of the table as the quiet knock echoed faintly through the chamber.
Another followed.
Her pulse quickened.
It is far too late for casual visitors.
She moved slowly toward the door, her bare feet silent against the carpet as she crossed the room. The flickering firelight trailed behind her, casting long shadows along the wall as she approached the handle.
Diana paused. Her hand hovered there for a moment as a small, curious thought slipped through her mind.
Could it be—
She opened the door.
Alexander stood in the corridor.
She simply stared at him. He looked different from how she had seen him throughout the day.
The formal coat and waistcoat he had worn earlier were gone, replaced now by a simple white night shirt that hung loosely over dark trousers.
The sleeves were rolled slightly at his forearms, and the relaxed state of his dress made him appear less like the composed duke who commanded attention at dinner, and more like a man who had stepped from his chambers on a sudden impulse.
In one hand, he held a bottle of wine. Balanced carefully in the other were two glasses and a small box tied neatly with ribbon.
Diana blinked.
Alexander regarded her with calm amusement, as though appearing outside his bedchamber at such an hour were the most natural thing in the world.
“Good evening,” he said.
His voice carried that same warm amusement she had begun to recognize whenever he was enjoying himself.
She looked at the objects in his hands again.
“Are you hosting a gathering?” she asked.
Alexander’s mouth curved. “I thought perhaps you might like some company.”
The words were spoken easily, yet something about the quiet confidence in his tone made her pulse shift in a way she did not entirely appreciate.
Diana hesitated.
The sensible part of her mind immediately began listing all the reasons she ought to decline. It was late. They were alone. And the memory of their conversation beside the hedges earlier that afternoon was still far too vivid in her thoughts.
Yet at the same time, she could not deny the curiosity stirring beneath her caution.
Alexander lifted the bottle slightly. “I promise I come bearing only wine and chocolate.”
That made her blink again. “Chocolate?”
“An indulgence,” he said lightly. “I was informed earlier today that life without sweetness is not worth living.”
Diana could not help it. She laughed softly.
Lady Salford’s words.
The sound seemed to satisfy him.
His gaze softened just slightly as he watched her, the faint warmth in his eyes making her suddenly aware of the quiet intimacy of the moment. The corridor behind him was dimly lit, the rest of the household silent and asleep, leaving the two of them standing in the doorway like conspirators.
“You may refuse, of course,” he added.
Diana studied him and, no matter how hard she tried to find a reason to reject him, she was unable to. She stepped aside.
“Very well,” she said. “But only for a moment.”
Alexander’s smile deepened. “Of course.”
He entered the room, and the door closed quietly behind him.
Diana moved toward the hearth, suddenly aware of the heat of the fire against her bare arms and the lightness of the nightgown she wore.
The soft fabric brushed against her legs as she sat in the chair near the flames, drawing her knees slightly together in an unconscious attempt to maintain some semblance of dignity.
Alexander set the tray on the small table between the chairs before pouring the wine. The deep red liquid caught the firelight as it filled the glasses.
He handed one to her.
“Thank you.” Diana accepted the glass he offered her, her fingers brushing briefly against his hand as she took it. The wine caught the firelight in deep ruby flashes as she lifted it slightly. “You truly came prepared.”
“I did,” Alexander replied easily.
He settled into the chair opposite hers with the relaxed confidence of someone entirely comfortable in the space, stretching one arm along the side of the chair.
The firelight flickered across the room, tracing the quiet lines of his face and catching briefly in his hair before sliding downward along the open collar of his nightshirt.
Diana became suddenly aware of how different he looked without the formal armor of his usual attire.
There was something far more intimate about him like this.
She found her gaze lingering before she could stop herself.
Her eyes drifted briefly from the quiet steadiness of his expression to the loose fall of fabric at his throat, then to the way the firelight brushed the strong line of his shoulders.
She forced herself to look back down at her wine. For a short while, neither of them spoke. The silence carried a strange warmth that seemed to hum quietly beneath the surface.
Diana lifted the glass to her lips.
The wine was warm and rich, and as she took a small sip she felt the lingering tension in her shoulders ease slightly, the soft heat of it spreading through her chest. The day had been long, filled with laughter and conversation and far too many moments in which she had found herself acutely aware of Alexander’s presence.
She had not expected him to appear at her door tonight.
Across from her, Alexander raised his own glass and took a measured sip, though his gaze never quite left her face. He watched her over the rim with quiet interest, his expression thoughtful in a way that made her increasingly conscious of how closely he seemed to be observing her.
When he lowered the glass again, the faintest hint of a smile touched his mouth. “You played quite aggressively today.”
Diana blinked, pulled from her thoughts. “I beg your pardon?”
“At Pall Mall,” he clarified, as though the matter required no further explanation.
A soft groan escaped her before she could stop it, and she tipped her head back against the chair in theatrical despair.
“If you have come here merely to continue that argument,” she said, pressing her fingers briefly to her temple, “I should like to warn you that I am far less patient at this hour of the evening.”
Alexander’s mouth curved faintly. “I merely wished to congratulate you.”
Her eyes opened again at once. “On what?”
“Winning.”
Diana’s expression shifted instantly into suspicion. “You still believe I missed.”
“I do.” His answer came without hesitation.
Diana leaned forward slightly in her chair, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass as she regarded him with narrowed eyes. “My ball traveled the farthest.”
Alexander lifted one brow.
“Yes,” he agreed mildly. “Into a hedge.”
The simple accuracy of the remark made her bite the inside of her cheek in an effort to maintain her composure. For a moment, she considered several responses, none of which seemed sufficiently dignified.
“You are too stubborn,” she said at last.
“Perhaps.”
The quiet acceptance of the accusation did nothing to reduce the amusement in his voice.
Alexander set his glass down on the small table between them, the faint clink of crystal against wood punctuating the moment as he leaned forward slightly.
“Though I must admit,” he continued, “I was impressed.”
Diana wasn’t certain she had heard him correctly. “Impressed?”
“With your determination.”