Chapter 8
“Enter,” Alexander called out roughly.
Miss Dowell’s sweetness enveloped him, both in taste and smell. Her swollen lips and shallow breathing distracted him. He chuckled at her unusual silence, but his laughter was cut short when Rosalind entered the room. Alexander felt the familiar tension coil as his sister stood near the doorway.
Her slight frame was half-hidden behind the carved panel, as though she needed the wood to hold her upright. Her hazel eyes were wide, darting between him and their guest with a mixture of alarm and confusion.
Miss Dowell fidgeted beside him, smoothing her skirts with a nervousness he had never seen in her before.
“Lady Rosalind,” she said gently, offering a small, polite smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Rosalind did not answer. She simply stared, first at Miss Dowell, then at Alexander. Her quietness filled the air, and Alexander watched her fingers twisting in the fabric of her sleeve.
He stepped towards her, softening his voice. “Rosie, what is it?”
She swallowed, her gaze flicking to their guest once more before settling on him.
“I… heard voices,” she whispered. “I thought you were in danger.”
Alexander exhaled, relief and guilt tangling in his chest.
She ran towards the danger. For me.
He silently prayed that his plan to save her would work.
“Danger? From her?” He scoffed and looked at Miss Dowell pointedly with a faint, teasing smile. “You may be right; Miss Dowell is a sorceress. Even being in her presence is a threat.”
She rolled her eyes, but he did not miss the blush that crept up her neck. Alexander turned his attention back to his sister.
I cannot afford to get distracted.
He hoped that Rosalind would at least ease up but she did not. Her posture remained rigid, and her shoulders tight, as though she were bracing for something unseen. She frowned at him and Alexander’s smile slowly faded.
“Come, Rosie,” he said softly. “You too, Miss Dowell. Let us sit somewhere more comfortable.”
He guided the ladies towards the small sitting room adjoining his study. The room was warm and quiet with a low fire crackling in the grate. Rosalind moved hesitantly, her steps small and uncertain. Miss Dowell followed promptly, glancing at him questioningly.
As soon as they entered, he signalled to a passing maid.
“Bring us some fresh tea,” he said quietly.
The maid curtsied and hurried off.
Rosalind perched on the edge of the nearest chair awkwardly as if she had not lived there throughout most of her life.
Her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and she looked as though she might bolt at any moment.
Miss Dowell hesitated before taking the seat opposite her, arranging her skirts with careful precision.
Alexander sat across from them, casually perceiving the ladies as though he were perfectly at ease.
He was not.
His sister’s pallor unsettled him as well as her trembling fingers. His gaze drifted to Miss Dowell, but she unsettled him even more. Just mere minutes ago he had tasted her soft and yielding lips and now they sat apart as though it had not happened.
He forced his thoughts back into order.
“Rosie,” he said gently, “Miss Dowell is a friend.”
Rosalind’s gaze flicked up for a second, then away again.
Alexander’s chest tightened.
Perhaps this is too soon?
He cleared his throat before continuing. “She is not like the others. I can vouch for that.”
Miss Dowell’s brows lifted slightly, but she, thankfully, did not protest or question him. A heavy and fragile silence stretched between them.
After a lengthy beat, Miss Dowell leaned closer towards Rosalind and spoke gently. “Lady Rosalind, I understand that meeting someone new can feel overwhelming. I myself find it rather terrifying when we have guests come calling.”
Rosalind’s eyes lifted, just barely, but she did not turn towards Miss Dowell.
“You do?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Miss Dowell replied. “I prefer quiet rooms and quiet thoughts. People, especially when there are crowds of them, make me feel as though my mind is being tugged in too many directions.”
Alexander had never heard anyone describe mingling with others in Society that way. And judging by Rosalind’s expression, neither had she.
Miss Dowell continued softly, “Do you find that difficult as well?”
Rosalind hesitated. Then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded.
“That is quite normal, trust me.” Miss Dowell smiled at her and Rosalind’s lips twitched slightly but the smile did not reach her eyes.
Alexander exhaled slowly, relief loosening the knot in his chest. Perhaps this had been the right decision after all. Perhaps Miss Dowell would—
“Do you experience difficulty sleeping?” Miss Dowell asked suddenly.
Alexander stiffened.
Rosalind’s fingers tightened around each other, but she answered softly. “Sometimes.”
“How often do you feel unsettled when it is time to fall asleep?” Miss Dowell pressed, leaning even closer to Rosalind.
“Almost…every night.”
Alexander’s fists clenched at his sides. This was not what he had expected from the meeting, and it angered him that Miss Dowell was starting to look at Rosalind as another experiment of hers.
“Do you wake frequently throughout the night?”
Rosalind looked at him then dropped her gaze to her fidgeting hands. “Yes, I do.”
Miss Dowell nodded as if she expected that answer. “And do you feel restless when you do fall asleep?”
Rosalind nodded just as the maid arrived with their tea.
Their silence returned, heavier this time.
The only sound to be heard was the teacups and teapot rattling on the tray as it was placed on the tabletop.
Alexander took a deep breath in and smelt the aroma of the strong tea leaves as it was poured into each cup.
The maid curtsied before taking her leave again.
As soon as the door shut, Miss Dowell continued. “Do you—”
“Miss Dowell,” Alexander cut her off sharply.
To his surprise, she ignored him.
“Do you find yourself avoiding big social gatherings because they cause physical discomfort?” She studied Rosalind in a way that made Alexander’s jaw tick.
Rosalind frowned. “I…do.”
“And if you do attend, do you feel an uncomfortable tightness in the chest? Shaking? Nausea?”
She is relentless and this was a mistake.
Rosalind’s breath hitched and Alexander decided to end the interrogation. He got up, placing himself subtly between them. “Miss Dowell.”
She blinked up at him, clearly startled by the tone of his voice.
He forced a smile for Rosalind’s sake. “We have whiled away the afternoon and my sister needs rest.”
Miss Dowell did not move. “The tea has just arrived.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened. “The tea was for you, as our guest. Or did you forget your place?”
He could see Rosalind shrinking into herself. Her shoulders curled inward. Her breath grew shallower by the minute. She looked like she wanted to disappear and that was the last thing he wanted.
He hated that look.
He had seen it too many times.
Alexander remained standing, watching his sister with growing unease. Her fingers trembled as she picked up her cup of tea and sipped it.
He should not have invited Miss Dowell to come here.
Not today. Not like this.
Miss Dowell, suddenly aware of Rosalind’s rising distress, said gently, “Lady Rosalind, I do apologize if I made you feel—”
Alexander cleared his throat, louder this time.
“It is late,” he stated.
Miss Dowell looked up at him, confusion knitting her brows. “But—”
“Late,” he said more firmly. “Rosie, have your tea and then feel free to take your leave. I will see that supper is sent to your room later. All right?”
“I—” Rosalind placed her teacup down shakily and rose at once, her movements stiff and hurried. “I will retire now. Thank you.”
She smiled shyly at Miss Dowell and Alexander.
He wanted to hug her, to assure her that everything was going to be all right, but he could not bring himself to do it.
She murmured something that might have been “good day,” though it was barely audible, and slipped out of the room like a shadow fleeing the light.
The door closed softly behind her and a heavy tension settled between him and Miss Dowell who remained seated. She looked at him completely puzzled. “I was only trying to understand her.”
Alexander exhaled, long and slow, fighting the urge to run after his sister. “Theodora.”
She looked up at him. He assumed she would be startled to hear him use her Christian name, but she did not seem alarmed. Instead, her dark green eyes pierced right through him and he turned away, unable to control his urge to kiss her again even while he was upset with her. “Come with me.”
“Where?” she asked curiously.
“Just...do no question or argue with me for once and follow me.”
He did not offer his hand or wait for her. He simply walked towards the door. Theodora’s footsteps were quiet behind him as he led her out of the sitting room and into the dim corridor. The moment they were outside, he stopped and turned to face her.
Theodora’s expression reflected his simmering frustration.
“Miss Dowell,” he said strictly, “what the hell were you thinking in there?”
She flinched, and then as if she remembered herself, she straightened her spine, lifting her chin in that mulish, infuriating way of hers.
“Your Grace,” she said tightly, “you asked me to help your sister without any explanation at all, so I took the opportunity to find out what is wrong with her and why she requires any help in the first place.”
Alexander’s jaw clenched. “Perhaps you should have waited until I explained myself.”
“And when would that have been? Before or after kissing me?” Theodora crossed her arms at her waist, causing her ample bosoms along with her words to rise and distract him even further.
“Rosalind simply needs a friend, that is all.” He did not want to admit that he was wrong, and that he should have explained to her why he needed her help instead of kissing her.