Chapter 11 #2
The hedges towered above them, trimmed with meticulous care, their leaves dark and glistening with morning dew and a little frost.
Isabella entered with them, still determined to keep far from the duke, weaving her way deeper into the web of twisting corridors without thinking.
But enthusiasm quickly turned to confusion when pathways split without warning and doubled back in ways that seemed almost designed to disorient them.
Laughter echoed through the narrow tunnels of greenery as the ladies called out to one another, their voices ricocheting in playful confusion. Isabella slowed her steps, half-turning as she listened for familiar voices.
“Lady Kendrick?” she called softly.
Silence.
Oh no.
She had separated from the rest. Her heart began to pound as she wondered what she would do.
A frown sat on her face, and for a few seconds, she considered what she should do. She wouldn’t wait to be saved; she’d find her way out of the maze herself. Anything less would leave her feeling embarrassed and defeated in the eyes of her peers, and worst of all, the duke.
Determination fueling her, she lifted her skirts and turned a corner, halting abruptly in an instant.
“Your Grace,” she mumbled as she came upon the Duke of Everthorne.
His tall frame seemed too large, too striking, too vividly present in the confined space of the hedge-lined corridor.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Isabella felt her heartbeat in her throat, the silence looming between them like a heavy mist, as if holding a raw emotion in check. She couldn’t control the trembling within her, and she hoped to the heavens above that he would not notice.
“Lost?” he then asked, breaking the silence. His voice was absolutely emotionless, and it chilled her to her bones.
“I am not lost,” she replied with far more pride than accuracy. “I’m simply… enjoying the adventure.” She gave a nonchalant shrug.
His mouth quirked, “As am I.”
She wished he had not said that. She wished he would simply turn and walk away. But instead, he stepped toward her, closing the distance between them.
“Would you like to lead the way?” he asked, but Isabella could not help but pick out the mockery in his tone.
“I would not. I simply wish to take my time exploring. If my pace bothers you, perhaps you should free yourself from me and explore at the pace that suits you, Your Grace.”
He chuckled darkly and took yet another step toward her. “You are stubborn, Lady Isabella,” he pointed out.
“Well, if you dislike my company so much, perhaps you should avoid being near me, then,” she snapped back.
His eyes raked over her, dark yet faint with a shimmer hidden within.
“I do not dislike you, Lady Isabella.” His voice was softer and heavier with intent.
“No?” she scoffed. “Then why do you treat me so?” She resisted the urge to swallow hard, not wanting him to see the effect that his words had on her.
His jaw clenched. “Because I cannot help myself,” he gritted out.
“I beg your pardon?” She took a step back from him, backing herself into a wall of the maze.
The tips of her fingers touched the frostbitten leaves, making the encounter all too familiar for her.
“Because whenever you’re around, control evades me. Because all I want to do is…” His words trailed off as his eyes dropped to her lips. He stopped, as though he was about to bite his own tongue.
“To do what?” she asked breathlessly.
Yet her heart raced as he stepped forward again, her body heating up, her spine tingling with the shivers that crawled down it.
It is happening to me again.
“I… We…” she paused to clear her throat. “This is hardly proper, Your Grace. You are too close, and it seems we are quite a distance from the others.”
She raised her hand, placing the tips of her fingers against his chest to create at least some semblance of distance between them.
Is he going to kiss me again?
Her breathing became more labored as his face inched closer to hers, his hot breath tickling her lips.
The duke nodded. “Yes. Yes, you’re right,” he mumbled, while keeping his gaze fixed on hers.
As if experiencing a moment of clarity, he took a step back and cleared his throat, gesturing for her to follow.
That was a close call.
They walked together, and she kept at least two respectable steps between them. The maze twisted endlessly, each turn resembling the last. Isabella felt her frustration building; each moment alone with him drawing her thoughts toward dangerous terrain.
“Is this what you wished, Your Grace?” she muttered under her breath. “To trap me here with you?” She could hardly believe that she had spoken out loud until he turned to her, his eyes wild with indignation.
“You believe I orchestrated the hedges?” The duke stopped and peered at her in disbelief.
“I believe you always appear where I least want you,” She retorted, regretting speaking up in the first place.
He exhaled slowly, his breath clouding in the cold air. “You think I wanted this? That I sought another moment alone with you when we have already—” His voice broke.
He hesitated, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson, at the reminder of their kiss. She shouldn’t be thinking about it, or reacting to it, but she couldn’t help herself.
“We need not speak of it,” she muttered.
“It seems we must,” his voice dropped.
She turned sharply to him, her breath catching.
Their gazes locked, charged with unspoken words. The pathway narrowed, forcing her into the wall of hedges as he took an involuntary step forward. Her back brushed the cold leaves, and his presence closed around her fiercely.
“Lady Isabella,” he said quietly, “you know very well that what happened between us… was not something either of us planned.”
Her pulse hammered as the words stabbed at her heart, but she steadied herself for his next words despite the disturbing quakes she felt in her body.
“It was a mistake,” he whispered, catching her off guard.
The words cracked through her chest like a blow. It felt as though her breath was cut off. She had pondered on that kiss for days; she’d wondered what she was to do and how to act around him, but to him, it hadn’t meant anything more than a simple lapse in judgment.
A flame of hot anger lit up in her, and she sought to erect a wall between them, yet his gaze stilled her, even as she felt as though her chest would burst.
He was close enough that she could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw and the icy tension in his grey eyes.
Her breath stilled. His face was inches from hers.
His hand lifted, hovering near her cheek, trembling as though he fought with himself, and she felt her entire world narrow to that one point of possibility.
“Yes. A mistake.” She bit out the words venomously.
At her agreement, the duke stepped back sharply as if she had burned him.
“And it cannot be repeated.” She added, before turning away from him and running as quickly as she could toward the approaching voices.