Chapter 22
“Alex,” Theodora’s own voice pulled her from a deep sleep.
She stirred and felt the familiar weight of an arm draped across her waist and the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath her cheek.
For one disoriented heartbeat she forgot where she was.
But the ache between her thighs and the way her body still hummed reminded her.
Awareness rushed back in a warm, dangerous flood.
“Alexander!” She gasped and got up.
She turned to find him already awake, watching her with a lazy, contented smile that softened every hard line of his face.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” she asked as she tried to cover her breasts with the silk sheet.
“You look stunning in the morning, Theo, which is a blessing.” He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.
He looked uncharacteristically happy . His smile was nothing like the practiced charming one he wore in public, or the guarded but amused kind he used as armor.
“Morning to you too,” she murmured, her voice still rough with sleep.
His thumb traced slow circles over the small of her back. “You stayed.”
She felt heat crawl up her neck. “I… fell asleep.”
“Yes, I noticed.” He got up, leaned in, and brushed a kiss against her shoulder. It was soft and lingering. “I like waking up to you here.”
Theodora allowed herself one indulgent moment to sink into the warmth of his skin, the faint scent of him and the way his heartbeat thudded steadily under her palm as she touched his chest. She let her fingers trail idly across him, tracing the faint scars and bruises she had discovered last night.
Reminders of those ridiculous fights. For a few precious minutes they simply sat on his bed, breathing in tandem, and the world beyond the bedroom door was held at bay.
Then she glanced towards the window.
“Did you say morning?” Her brows creased.
Then her heart lurched.
She bolted out of the bed. The sheets pooled to the ground, but she could not care less. “It is morning. Properly morning!”
Alexander propped himself on one elbow, brow furrowing as he tried to suppress his laughter. “Yes, and?”
“My parents—” Her voice cracked. She scrambled around, snatching her discarded chemise from the floor. “If I am not home—if they realize I never came back, then they will know I have done something reckless and scandalous. They will ask questions. The servants will talk. I will be ruined!”
She yanked the chemise over her head, fingers trembling as she fumbled for her corset. Alexander sat up fully now, the sheet slipping low on his hips and distracting her.
“Please, can you get dressed!” she snapped at him.
“Theo.” His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it. “Slow down. What is wrong with your parents? Why does it matter so much if they find out you were… elsewhere? Can you not say that you were at Evelina’s?”
She froze with her back to him, fingers stilled on the laces. She felt as though he was probing, but last night he opened up about Rosalind, and she had always deflected the truth.
Not this time.
The truth clawed its way up her throat and refused to be swallowed again.
She turned slowly towards him. “My mother is… ill.”
Alexander pulled the sheet off and got up. “I knew that something was wrong, but I did not want to pry. Your father is always away, and your mother stands alone at every ball. Their behavior toward one another strikes me as being rather odd.”
Theodora’s throat constricted. She was unable to speak the truth without crying.
Alexander continued, oblivious to the true reason for her turmoil. “If she is unwell, we will go to her at once then—”
“Let me finish.” Theodora’s voice wavered but she felt a new wave of warmth at his eagerness.
He nodded, gathered his clothes, and waited for her to continue.
“My mother is not sick in body. But in mind. She has been for years. She believes, and she convinces herself, that my father is in love with her and he is a faithful man. That every late night, every unexplained absence, every scent of perfume on his coat is nothing. She clings to the fiction because the alternative would destroy her. And I… I help her cling to that.”
Alexander’s expression darkened. He crossed to her in two strides.
“What are you saying, Theo?”
“My father is having an affair…many affairs to be exact. And my mother does not know. But I know. I saw him and I—”
“You covered for him,” he said quietly.
It was not a question.
Theodora nodded, eyes burning with tears.
“I lie to her every day. I try to keep the truth within me. I make excuses when he does not come home. I can barely sit with her sometimes. I can barely hold in my father’s secrets when she claims that he loves her, that he would never—” Her voice broke.
“I do it because if she faces the truth, I am afraid she will simply… stop living.”
Alexander reached for her, cupping her face between his palms. His thumbs brushed away the tears she hadn’t realized were falling.
“This is not your burden to bear alone, Theo. You have to tell her the truth.”
She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her.
“Your mother deserves the truth,” he said more sternly.
“Not the pretty lies your father has been feeding her. There is no gentle way to do this and no perfect moment that will make it easy. But she should know. She should have the chance to grieve what was never real, and then perhaps… rebuild something that is.”
Theodora shook her head, even as fresh tears spilled. “She will hate me for shattering her mirage of love. For being the one to say the words.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “For a while. But she will hate the lie more, in the end. And she would not be alone. You will be there. You will help her through it. That is what daughters do.”
She stared at him, chest tight with emotions. She had never told anyone the truth and the weight she carried for so long, finally lifted.
Alexander brushed away another tear. “You do not have to decide today. But do not keep carrying his secrets in silence. Not anymore.”
She nodded once then turned back to her clothes, pulling on her gown with mechanical movements.
Theodora could not tell him that her own father threatened her if she told the truth to her mother.
As she dressed, Alexander helped her with the laces.
His fingers were steady where hers were not.
She hastily pinned her hair and was about to leave when Alexander caught her wrist.
“When will I see you again?” he asked. His voice was a mere whisper that left her nerves wrecked and shaken. “I am leaving for Wiltshire in three days to see Rosalind. I do not know how long I will be gone.”
Theodora looked up at him. “I will… I will write to you. When things are calmer. When I have spoken to my mother.”
He studied her face for a long time, then shook his head. “I am not ready to watch you walk out that door alone.”
“Alexander—”
“I will go with you,” he said firmly. “At least as far as your street. I will wait in the carriage around the corner and make sure you get inside safely. If there is any shouting, if there is trouble—I will be there.”
She opened her mouth to argue about propriety, scandal, and the risk of being seen but the look in his eyes stopped her. She had seen that look before; it was the same stubborn protectiveness he displayed when it came to Rosalind.
She exhaled. “All right.”
* * *
The carriage hit a small bump on the road and Alexander felt his heart stutter with it. He could not keep his hands off Theodora for the entire ride, and she clasped onto him as well.
What is this feeling?
The carriage slowed as the road curved just beyond Dowell House. Alexander leaned forward and tapped the roof twice.
“Stop here.” His own voice sounded unnaturally worried.
The driver obeyed immediately and the wheels rolled to a gentle halt beneath the arching branches of ancient oaks. The sun had only just barely risen and yet the darkness outside troubled him.
“I will escort you to your—”
“No,” she interrupted him firmly.
The warmth of her body huddled next to him felt natural, as if she belonged by his side.
“I should be fine from here.” Her sweet voice broke through his thoughts.
He had chosen this place deliberately because it was private and close enough to her home but not too far enough so that he would be able to come to her if needed.
Theodora was still pressed against him; he felt her warm breath against his skin and her fingers curled into his coat as though she feared the world outside the carriage. During the ride, every sway of the carriage brought her closer to him, and every shift was an excuse to touch her.
He did not know what to make of the furnace that burned within his chest whenever she was near. And now that he had claimed her body, his mind burned just as much too.
Sorceress.
“Why are you smirking?” Theodora was staring at him with a raised brow and his heart stuttered.
Alexander chuckled. “I am just thinking about how a certain sorceress put me under her spell.”
She scoffed and, to his disappointment, she pulled away from him. “I did no such thing. And now is not the time to be jesting. I could be in serious trouble because of you!”
“You came to me, love.”
He noticed how her breath hitched at the term of endearment and smiled to himself.
Theodora stirred and lifted her chin defiantly. A gust of wind blew in from her window, and a strand of her hair brushed his jaw. She looked furious and utterly mesmerizing. Her green eyes were still dazed, and her cheeks were still flushed from their lovemaking.
With a loud huff, she reached for the door handle.
“Thank you, Alex,” she whispered but it sounded like a venomous hiss.
When she got up to leave, something inside him snapped and he caught her wrist gently and firmly, pulling her back towards him.
“Alex—” she protested but he captured her lips with his.
It was not a kiss of curiosity. Nor was it a part of her experiment.
It was purely a kiss of desire. As their tongues clashed and he swallowed her delicious moans, Alexander felt as though he was confessing a secret he didn’t know how to speak aloud.
But he brushed off these thoughts. Perhaps, he just wanted to taste her again.
What if she lingers on the tip of my tongue? What if I never forget her?
Her hands fisted in his coat as she kissed him back fiercely. Alexander didn’t want to stop, but he knew better than to continue detaining her. He reluctantly broke away and felt her trembling breath surround him.
“I should go.” But she did not move.
Alexander rested his forehead against hers. “I will wait a while before leaving. If there is no sign of distress… only, then will I go.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
He brushed his thumb along her reddened cheek. “Theodora.”
She swallowed. “Yes?”
“When will I see you again?” he repeated the question.
Her eyes flickered away for a moment. “I… I am not sure.”
His chest tightened with questionable fear. “Not sure?”
She shook her head. “I do not know what will happen after I enter that house.”
He clenched his jaw.
“If anyone hurts you, I will—”
“That will not happen,” she interjected but didn’t explain any further.
“Very well,” Alexander said quietly. “But I will see you again.”
It was not a question.
Alexander hesitantly opened the carriage door and Theodora slipped out. His mind spiraled out of control.
“Thank you, Alex,” she said softly.
“For what, Theo?” His fist tightened around the handle so he would not be tempted to reach for her again.
“For everything.” She smiled and his breath caught at the sight of her.
Before he could respond, Theodora turned and walked through the trees towards Dowell House. Alexander watched her go and a poisonous dread filled his heart. He leaned back in the seat, exhaling shakily.
Why did her words sound like a goodbye?