The Season(48)

“Yes, thank you, Your Grace.”

The duchess waved away the thanks. “The crimson room is already prepared. Alexandra will remind you of the way.”

Gavin nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Nonsense. We shall see you at breakfast.” Turning to Alex, she spoke regally, “Alexandra, I should think Gavin has had enough excitement for one evening. Endeavor not to add to it.”

A blush rose high on Alex’s cheeks as she accepted her mother’s kiss. “Yes, Mother.”

“Good night.”

And, with that, the duke and duchess took their leave of Alex and Blackmoor, and climbed the stairs to their bedchambers.

Shaking herself out of her trance following her parents’ departure, Alex turned and re-entered the library to put out the candles and prepare a light to guide them to the upper floors of the house. The task kept her from thinking too seriously about the fact that she was, once again, alone with Blackmoor. She turned from her task, candle in hand, to find him leaning against the doorjamb, rubbing the back of his neck and watching her intently.

Alex spoke quickly, eager to fill the air. “My lord, is all well?”

He offered her a brief, tired smile. “As well as can be expected, I imagine. I confess, I am happy to be here tonight.”

“We are happy to host you. I imagine things will look better in the morning…or at least brighter.”

“One can certainly hope.”

“Neither my mother nor I would have stood for your being alone at Blackmoor House this evening.”

Gavin smiled wearily. “The two of you are an irresistible force. I shan’t put up a fight.”

In the pause that followed, Alex searched for a safe topic—one that would offset her nervousness about being alone with him. “Was much taken in the burglary?”

He shook his head quickly. “No. In fact, nothing that I could discern. It seems that the intruder was interrupted. I’m left with all my possessions, but quite a mess to clean up.”

“You mean the intruder was in the house when you arrived home?” The idea sent a chill down Alex’s spine.

“I imagine so.” Seeing the alarm on Alex’s face, Gavin stepped toward her. “But I did not see him. So all is well.”

“Aside from the fact that you could have been killed, you mean…and all because of me!”

“Because of you?” His confusion was obvious in his tone.

“Of course! If we hadn’t quarreled…” She trailed off.

“If we hadn’t quarreled, I wouldn’t have surprised the intruder and I could well be missing valuable items from Blackmoor House. As it is, I’ve lost only the time it takes to set the study to right.”

“Still…” She paused, then spoke, looking down at her feet. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need for you to apologize.”

“There is. I’m not just sorry about the burglary—although I am sorry about that. I’m sorry about this evening, and about Freddie, and for making you so very angry, and…for everything.” By the end of the sentence, her voice was barely a whisper.

“Alex.”

She couldn’t look up at him.

“Alexandra. Look at me.”

With a sigh, she did, meeting his gaze as he spoke firmly. “You don’t have to apologize for any of that. I incited you…I know that now as much as I knew it then. I’m sorry that I was boorish. I should have checked my behavior long before it came to our arguing in the middle of a ball.” He reached out and took the candle from her hands, setting it on a nearby table before taking her hands in his. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I don’t know what got into me about Freddie. I’ve always quite liked him. But this season…seeing him flirting with you…it’s been…difficult to watch. And I know my behavior has been reprehensible.”

“You have to stop thinking of me as your sister, Gavin.”

He offered her a half smile. “That seems to be the singular problem.” Confusion clouded her emerald eyes as he continued, “You see, I haven’t been thinking of you as my sister. In fact, the way I’ve been thinking when it comes to you is the very opposite of brotherly.”

The words hung in the air and Alex’s eyes widened as understanding dawned.

He offered a self-deprecating smile. “I see you take my meaning.” He let go of her hands and ran his fingers through his hair as though he didn’t know what to do with them. “You needn’t worry. I’m not going to act on my feelings.”

“Why?” Alex asked the question without thinking.

“If only I knew why. It began at the start of the season, and at first I chalked it up to my missing you while I was in mourning. Which I did. But instead of the feelings dissipating as I spent time in your company”—he slashed a hand through the air in frustration—“they only seemed to grow stronger.”

Alex looked up at him, meeting his frustrated grey eyes. “Not why are you feeling the way you are, Gavin. Why aren’t you going to act on those feelings?”

He froze. Neither of them moved, each afraid to take the next step. The first step.

The moment stretched out into what seemed like an eternity and Alex began to feel awkward, as though she had said the wrong thing. “I—I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what prompted me to ask such a thing.” She started to take a step backward.