a/n-"I'm soooo sorry! I know I'm ridiculously late in posting this. I've had a lot of personal stuff goin' on lately and thats the reason for my tardiness...slap me on the wrist but don't hate me :P
Ok, so I wasn't as meticulous with the editing this time cause I just wanted to get this up for those that have been waiting. I'll respond to all of the messages/reviews when I get off work...k peeps? :) Hope you enjoy!
Ch. 11 “One kiss breaches the distance between friendship and love”-Unknown
Alla slowly walked up the staircase as she contemplated their previous conversation. What just happened? She’d felt another very noticeable change in her relationship with the duke. Oh, they still argued. But now, they knew things about each other. She wasn’t accustomed to having a normal conversation with him. Usually, when they spoke, it was in anger, but now things felt different. She felt different. She had gotten very upset with him over his implication that she failed to meet him; as if she did so on purpose. Yet, for once, her anger did not get the better of her. Alla didn’t know if that was because they had been involved in a pleasant conversation, or if she simply learnt to rein her mouth in.
One thing was for certain, she was not thrilled to be on friendlier terms with the man. Then again, she had to be mad. After all, what person would not want to be on good terms with their employer? Even if he wasn’t her employer, what woman would not want to be on good terms with a man such as Brandon?
“Alla, you keep that head outta the clouds girl. You a slave just like the rest of us!” Her mama’s words, though spoken to her when she was very young, still reverberated through her head. What am I doing? It didn’t matter how attractive she found Brandon. It did not matter whether they were friends or not. In reality, everything from her employment to their so-called friendship was built on a lie. If he didn’t know who she really was, could he really know her?
Alla shook her thoughts as she made it to the top of the staircase, she would just have to be careful. Somehow, it had to be possible for her to be friendly with him without becoming too close. She struggled to ignore the feeling of uneasiness that came over her as she walked over to the room that William was in. Peeking inside, she found him sitting on the floor with his legs crossed as he read aloud from the book she’d assigned to him.
Evening rays pierced through the large windows throughout the room and brightened the area all around the young boy. Alla smiled when his face scrunched in disgust. Curious, she walked into the room.
He instantly looked up and gave her one of his toothless smiles. “Hello, miss,” he greeted.
“Hello, William,” she returned, clasping her hands behind her back as she walked around his spot on the floor.“Are you enjoying the book?”
“I was…”
“What makes you dislike it?”
“The boy and girl part, yuck!” he emphasized, making a face.
“What boy and girl part?” Alla asked, befuddled. She sat on the floor next to him and stretched her arm out behind him, as she leaned in towards the book.
“They…well, read it, miss,” he urged as he pushed the book into her hands.
Alla took the book. “Let’s see… ‘The prince trembled upon seeing the princess’s beauty and fell upon his knees—“
“Why?”
Alla turned to look at William. “Why what?”
“Why did the prince tremble? He wasn’t scared, was he?”
“No, he wasn’t scared. I suppose the princess was so beautiful that he couldn’t help but…shake a little.”
William giggled. “That’s funny. I’ll never shake over a girl.”
“Hmm, as for that I suppose we shall have to see. Is this the boy and girl part that you were telling me about?”
“No, not that,” he replied as if she were being silly. “Keep readin’.”
Alla looked at him pointedly.
“Please,” he added.
She nodded, and resumed reading. ‘He fell upon his knees before her. The prince declared that he loved her better than he loved himself. Their discourse was not very connected, but they were the better pleased, for where there is much love there is little eloquence.’
“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” she mumbled to herself, and then continued the reading. ‘He kissed her, and then she woke up and then everyone in the castle—‘
“That’s it!” William stated excitedly, coming to his knees.
“What’s it?” she asked, hesitantly.
“He kissed her,” he repeated quickly and then made a face as if he didn’t like the words on his mouth. “I don’t like that part. What is it?”
“What is what, William? You will have to be a bit more specif—“
“A kiss.”
“What’s a kiss?”
He nodded.
“Well, if you don’t know what a kiss is, why do you find it so repulsive?”
“I don’t like the way it souuuunds,” he exaggerated. “I know what it is ‘cause daddy has kissed me on my head. But it’s different between boys and girls, right miss? Please…tell me what it is. How is it done?”
“Perhaps this question should be directed to your father.”
“Don’t you know?” He looked up at her with wide innocent brown eyes.
“Well, yes of course I know.” She sighed in defeat. “A kiss is when a girl’s mouth touches a boy’s mouth. Look here William,” she said turning the page, “here is a picture.”
“Why do they do that?”
“Oh, William, for heaven’s sake!” she blurted.
“They do it because…because they like one another; and they like the feel of one another’s lips,” she rushed.
He opened his mouth again and she interrupted. “Do not ask me more questions about boys and girls, William,” she sternly told him.
“I wasn’t gonna,” he replied, sullenly.
“Alright, I am sorry for interrupting you. What was your next question?”
“Have you ever been kissed?”
“William! What did I tell—“
“But it’s not about boys and girls. It’s about you.”
“And what am I?”
“A lady,” he deflected.
“And ladies do not speak of such things,” she returned; happy with her wit, for once.
“But you’re not just any lady, you’re my governess. You can tell me. I won’t tell; I promise,” he solemnly implored.
Why the boy wished to know whether she had been kissed or not was beyond her understanding. “No, William. I haven’t been kissed.”
“Why not?”
Good Heaven! What had she started?“A girl only kisses a boy when she really likes him,” she told him. Then she thought twice about that statement. She thought about his father, who was obviously popular with the ladies. “And young boys only kiss girls that they really like, William. They don’t flutter about here and there kissing this one and that one.”
“Boys don’t flutter,” he stated, offended. Alla watched in surprise as he raised a small brow, giving her a glimpse into the man he would eventually become.
“Very well,” she amended. “What I mean to say is that boys try to only kiss one girl. A boy kisses the one he really likes and is going to marry.”
“I’m not never gettin’ married,” he announced.
“Not ever,” she corrected. “And as I said before, we shall see.”
“So, why haven’t cha’ been kissed?”
She was a fool to think that he had dropped the subject. “I suppose I haven’t met anyone that I truly like, William.”
“If you liked a boy, would you kiss him?”
“I might allow him to kiss me,” she admitted. For heaven’s sake, should I even be having this conversation with a child?
“Now this is enough William,” she said in a no nonsense tone. “I think it is time for you—“
“I only have one more question!”
She heaved a great sigh. “What is it?”
“Will your eyes be opened or closed?”
“What? William, whatever are you talking about?”
“In the book their eyes are closed. I’m not sayin’ I’m gonna, but if I kissed; I would have my eyes open,” he stated, superiorly.
Alla smiled down at him as she came to her feet. “Why would you want them open?”
“Well, what if my mouth landed on her nose, or her eye?”
Alla openly laughed. “I’m sure that when the time comes, your mouth will find its’ mark.”
“It won’t happen ‘cause I don’t want it to,” he stubbornly replied, crossing his arms. “I’m gonna be just like daddy. So would you keep your eyes opened or closed?” he asked again.
Alla shrugged and pretended to ponder the question. “I don’t know. I may keep my eyes open to avoid landing on an eyebrow or an ear.” She waited for him to stop laughing and then asked; “What do you mean you’re going to be just like daddy?”
William shrugged, suddenly bored with the topic. Alla couldn’t hide her disappointment. What did William mean by his statement? How odd that when an adult wished to end a conversation with a child, the child wouldn’t allow it. Yet, when a child wanted to end a discussion with an adult, they quickly accomplished their goal.
Just then, Edith came into the room and announced that it was his bath time. She took him by the hand and was trying to pull him out of the room when he turned back to Alla. “Will you read to me tonight, miss?”
“I’m going to be out quite late tonight, William. I will read to you soon though, alright?”
He reluctantly nodded and allowed Edith to lead him to his bath. Once alone, Alla set the book on a nearby desk, walked over to one of the windows, looking outside of it. She rested her forehead head against the cool window pane, and placed a hand on the glass. She was becoming homesick for a place that was by no means a home to her. She missed her mama and brother and frankly didn’t feel like going to a party.
But, she thought, sighing, I do need to see a friendly face. Her secret was beginning to weigh heavily on her, and for the first time she contemplated confiding in her friend. Deep in thought, Alla turned away from the window and went to her room.
The ivory-colored satin gown she chose to wear to the ball had a small lace collar, and ivory buttons that ran down the bodice. It was a simple gown, which was why Alla loved it. It did not have all of the frills and extra lace that were on so many other frocks. It complimented her skin tone and brought out the contrast of her dark hair.
The carriage ride to the function was not as horrible as Alla thought it might be, in fact, she was surprised at the ease of conversation that took place between her and the duke. Yes, things had definitely changed since she first arrived. Now, they were actually laughing and joking with each other. She would have never thought that he had the potential to have such an easy demeanor.
“Are we not picking up Miss Taylor?” she asked, noticing they traveled a different route to the party.
Brandon straightened. “No we’re not.”
Alla paused, expecting more of an explanation but when none came, she dropped the subject and turned the topic to the weather.
Brandon could not believe how beautiful Alla looked. A part of him wanted her to change into something else. Perhaps another gown that wasn’t so flattering would do, a plain brown sack would suffice. She wore her hair unbound again. It flowed over her shoulders and simply shined. He stared at it, wondering what it would feel like to run his hands through it. No doubt Kent would find her, and dance with her again.
“Why are you frowning so ferociously at me? Are you not looking forward to the party?”
Brandon shrugged and turned towards the window.
When the carriage stopped, Alla instantly felt relieved. Their conversation had been going along quite pleasantly until his sudden shift in mood. The second the two entered the ballroom; it was apparent that everyone was abuzz with the news of Breanne’s engagement.
A plump extravagantly dressed woman, whom she learnt was called Mrs. Alfray, walked over and greeted them. The woman had scarcely drawn breath before she rushed out with the announcement. Alla quickly looked at Brandon, who did not seem the least bit surprised. For some reason, he stayed and indulged her; feigning interest in the subject that she was chatting on about.
Mrs. Alfray reminded Alla of a turkey; she sounded as if she were gobbling, not speaking, and Alla was amazed that a person could chatter on so quickly. Mrs. Alfray detained them for a while, and only paused in her chatter when she caught sight of an acquaintance, at which point, she immediately called out to her friend, waving her over to join them. The eagerness in her expression showed that she would go on and on about the news to the woman that was fast approaching. In fact, Alla doubted that she would speak of anything else for the rest of the night.
The woman turned away for a split second; and Brandon all but jerked Alla away from the area. “God in heaven,” he muttered.
Alla glanced up at him and laughed at his disgusted expression, before turning around to get one more glimpse of the person they successfully escaped. The woman was talking with her friend, but her eyes darted around, trying to find out where her previous audience had gone.
Alla was roughly yanked forward again. “If you pull any harder, you just might jerk my arms out from my body,” she informed him.
“Well, it doesn’t seem that we have much choice. You can either be armless, or your ears can bleed for the rest of the night,” he told her as he continued pulling. “The choice is yours, but I warn you, I will not hesitate to leave you to the woman.” He looked down at her, grinning.
She laughed up at him. “Those are not the words of a gentleman.”
“Whoever has given you the misconception that I am a gentleman? You will not drop that useless hope,” he told her, shaking his head in mock disappointment.
When they stopped on the side of the dance floor, Alla looked up at him. “I think that you are,” she told him quietly. The chatter and the music were so loud that Alla didn’t think he heard her, but when he looked down at her and she saw his serious expression, she knew that he had.
“What makes you say that?”
He was impaling her again. Alla immediately became preoccupied with observing the dancers as she replied to him. “You allowed the sailors to retain their employment, and you’ve given me many chances to retain mine, although I’m sure you have wanted to send me away.”
He stared down at her as she stared at the dance floor. Why will she not look at me? “I have never wanted to send you away, Katrina. Perhaps that is the reason that you are still here.”
Alla turned to look up at him and found that he was gazing at her.
“Brandon!” a voice chimed.
Alla did not have to look away from Brandon to see who was waiting to catch his attention. Yet, darned propriety demanded that she do so. Alla’s breath caught when she saw Miss Taylor; she looked positively gorgeous.
Alla glanced at Brandon, and saw something that she couldn’t quite name flicker in his eyes. Had he noticed how beautiful Miss Taylor looked as well? Why had she chosen to wear the simple dress?
“I have been meaning to talk to you,” Miss Taylor continued, flicking a quick glance at Alla before returning her attention to him. “Would you give me a little bit of your time?”
Brandon inclined his head and Miss Taylor took his arm. “I will return shortly,” he said to Alla, and walked off with the horrible woman.
So there she stood, against the wall, watching as the two made their way to the dance floor.
“What a lovely couple they make,” a woman’s voice said.
Turning around, Alla saw an older couple standing nearby, talking and looking at the couples on the dance floor. She followed their gaze and found Breanne amongst the crowd, dancing with Torrington, and smiling up at him. Alla smiled at the pair; they were oblivious to everyone around them. She was about to introduce herself to the older couple, since they were no doubt speaking of Breanne and Torrington, but stopped instantly at what she heard.
“Miss Taylor would be a good match for the Duke of Manchester,” the woman’s husband inserted. “I’ve heard him mention his fondness for her. She has had a few offers, you know. Yet, it appears as if she waits for the duke to make an offer. I imagine he will, soon.” The woman nodded her agreement, and the couple left soon thereafter to mingle with the crowd.
Alla’s ears felt as if they were on fire. They weren’t speaking of Breanne…they were speaking of Brandon…and Miss Taylor. It was hot; she couldn’t breathe, and needed to get out of there. Alla hastily turned, bumped into a chest, and looked up.
“Let’s leave our stumbling on the dance floor, Miss Bates. It won’t do at all to stumble off it.”
Her smile was wobbly when she replied. “I am sorry, Addison. I wasn’t watching where I was going and—“
“Katrina, you must know that I was teasing you.” He took in her appearance; her flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, and obvious lack of cheer. “Are you in good health?” he asked, worriedly.
“Yes, yes,” she nodded, flustered. “I just, I need some air. Could you show me where the gardens are or—“
His arm extended out towards her. “I shall lead you there, myself.” Alla couldn’t help but look one last time at Brandon. She found him through the crowd; still with Miss Taylor, both were gazing at each other as they danced. She watched as he said something that made Miss Taylor laugh. Alla quickly turned away, escaping the confines of the building.
When they made it out onto the terrace, Alla took a steadying breath and looked around. ‘Garden’ was not a word she would use when describing such a magnificent place. The cast of the moon’s glow lit up the sculpted shrubbery, and ivory fountains.Footmen stood throughout the gardens, holding oil lamps. The sight she beheld was simply beautiful. Addison led her down the steps and into the gardens.
“I am a good listener, Miss Bates, if you would like someone to talk to,” he told her as they began walking aimlessly amongst other couples.
She sighed, “I do not confide in very many people, my lord. I appreciate your concern, but I just needed a moment, and some…fresh air.”
“What’s this, a woman that doesn’t enjoy talking?” Addison placed a hand over his heart, attempting to lighten the mood. “Perhaps I should send for a doctor. Something must be amiss. I thought I knew everything about women, and now I am as confused as an adolescent.”
Alla smiled a little. “I think you will find that despite your many exploits, I am not like most women.” She instantly looked up at him when she felt his arm flex at her response.
“What have you heard?” he asked, dryly.
Alla cringed.
“Come, Miss Bates, out with it.”
“I’ve heard that you are standoffish at times towards women, and that you are a rake, though I confess I don’t know what that is. I can only guess.”
His laugh startled her, but he said nothing in response.
“Have I offended you, my lord?”
“No, you haven’t.” He glanced down at her. “You haven’t any idea how refreshing your honesty is. Objectively speaking, I suppose it is true that I can be...cold.”
“Why?”
“Am I receiving a question from the woman who confides in no one?” he asked, smirking knowingly.
She shook her head. “I am sorry. It was wrong of me to ask that. I suppose that keeping company with a five-year old has numbed me to the rudeness of asking questions of a personal nature.”
Addison pointed towards a small platform with a balcony. More stairs led down from it to a larger garden area. He steered her towards it and they looked out at the lower gardens, silently observing couples walking about the lawn, and listening to the faint music that could be heard from the ballroom.
“I hope that you consider me a friend, Miss Bates,” he said, breaking the silence.
“I only have a handful of friends, Addison, and I count you among the few. Though, I wish you would stop calling me Miss Bates. If we are friends then you should use my name, as I use yours.”
Addison inclined his head. What is it with Englishmen inclining their heads all of the time?
“I shall use your given name, from henceforth on, if you shall use mine. Though, truth be told, we should revert back to formal titles while with others,” he informed her. “It is how it is done here.”
Alla nodded, wishing he would have told her sooner. It might have saved her unwanted grief with the duke.
“Miss Bates. Katrina,” he amended. “I have a story to tell you. As a friend, I hope that you will listen, and not judge.”
“I would never judge you, Addison.”
He nodded, pausing briefly before he continued. “I had a close friend once. We grew up together, attended school together; we did everything together. We were not merely friends, we were as brothers.” He took a deep breath. “When my mother died, I went away for a while. I traveled, I explored, but I did so alone.” He paused, took another breath, and then continued.
“When I was in Italy, I met someone. She was beautiful, graceful, well spoken, had good wit…she was everything that a man could hope for in a woman.” He was quiet again until Alla urged him on.
“I am listening,” she quietly prodded.
“I brought her back to England. It wasn’t at all the thing to do,” he continued, “but I did it, and many came to hear of it. We became….involved. I bought her a place in the city. I paid for her carriages, clothes, jewelry, tickets to the opera, anything that she could possibly want for.”
He paused again, and Alla waited. “After a while, things turned badly for us. We would have plans, and she would cancel. She would say that she was ill, when she was not. She would also say that she was at functions with friends when she was elsewhere. Our relationship became a lie. I soon found out that she’d been seeing someone else, while I took care of her. I found out that she had been seeing my friend.”
Alla gasped.
“My friend and I had already drifted apart because of my long absence and though many knew about my relationship, he had no idea that I was seeing anyone. I was stupid. I was immature. I was…young. Instead of approaching my friend, who was completely unaware of her involvement with me, and telling him that we were both being bamboozled, I did what a young man hurt, and who fancied himself in love would do.”
“You called out your friend?” Alla asked, wide-eyed.
He shook his head. “I made special…arrangements to meet with her, and I sent for my former friend to come and see that she was with me.”
Alla stared at him. Her hand cupped over her mouth in shock. Addison had done this? “Addison, who was your friend?”
He smiled grimly. “My friend was Brandon, Duke of Manchester.”
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
“He went on to marry someone else, and was quite in love I believe. But he has never gotten over my betrayal. Though initially, I felt as if I were the one betrayed.”
“Oh my god,” she repeated. Addison lowered his head, and then looked up, once again, at the gardens.
“I tell you this, not only so you understand the relationship between Brandon and myself; we are on civil terms, at least. Mainly, I tell you this so that you understand why my actions may…be defined as rakish, and why I may be considered standoffish towards women. By the way, a rake happens to be a scoundrel, of sorts,” he added.
“I see,” Alla said, trying to process everything Addison told her.
“Do you?”
“I-I understand that you were young, and impulsive and that you made mistakes.”
He regarded her in a way that almost made her feel uncomfortable. “Addison—“
“I don’t know why I told you all of that. I certainly do not talk to women as I talk to you. I imagine that I feel quite comfortable with you, Katrina. That is certainly a new feeling for me.”
Why did she now wish that he’d call her Miss Bates, again? No. She would not treat him thus. He had confided in her and she was determined not to judge him. He was one of the few people that were nice to her. She did notice on their way out of the ballroom, that other women tried to catch his attention. Yet, he simply nodded at them and focused on escorting her outside. He took care of her.
“I am glad that you felt comfortable enough to confide in me.”
“But I haven’t made you comfortable enough to confide in me, have I? Something struck your heart in the room, Katrina. It was similar to how I must have looked when I felt betrayed,and I saw it tonight, in your expression.”
Alla shook her head. “Really Addison; I don’t know what bothered me. I simply needed a little air. I felt like I had to get out of there. I was hot and—”
“What happened before you felt as if you had to escape?”
“I heard a couple—“ She paused. Stopped. Good Heaven! Did she like Brandon? Was she beginning to care for him? It was only when she heard the couple talking about him and Miss Taylor that—
“Katrina?”
Alla’s shocked eyes met Addison’s puzzled ones. “This is all wrong!” she cried, as she cupped her hand over her mouth.
“What is it?” he asked. “What did you hear?”
Alla continued shaking her head in denial. This couldn’t be right. She wasn’t supposed to care for a person that she had just discovered only had a small portion of feelings in his large body. No; not the person that had the personality of a rock. She barely liked him! They were just beginning to get along with each other. How could she care for him?!
“I’m sorry Addison. I need to be alone. Please forgive me, I have to go,” she said, her voice cracking on the last word. Addison called out to her as she ran down the steps to the lower gardens. She ran past couples who looked on at her, some in worriment, and others confusion. She ran until she literally couldn’t run any more.
She had run to the end of a small maze, it seemed, made of tall bushes. The tiny area had a bench situated in the center of it. Alla walked to the bench and sat, tears glazed her cheeks as she stared at the moon.
She thought of Breanne, who was probably looking for her, and felt a twinge of guilt; but she couldn’t leave her hideaway, not yet. She needed just a bit more time to herself to think of what she was going to do before she faced the ton and him.
The admonition she received from her mama admonition to keep her head out of the clouds continued to run through her head. There was no chance of a relationship between a colored who passed for white and a duke.
“What am I doing? What was I thinking!?” she angrily muttered.
Where had her heart based a foundation for even liking the man? She shook her head; it’s hopeless. The only thing that she could do was to wait. If she waited, the Duke of Manchester and his Miss Taylor would marry. Miss Taylor would then dismiss her, and she would find employment elsewhere. It was time to view the duke as he was. There would be no more familiarity with him and she would no longer address him by his given name. Perhaps, if she kept distance between them in that manner, than her heart would catch on.
A thick lump formed in her throat at the thought of it all. If he would be satisfied with a woman such as Miss Taylor, then he was no match for her at all. She paused. What man would be a match for her? What would her mama think of her actions, her thoughts? This was not what her mama meant by starting anew, was it? It couldn’t be. Yet, here she was, feeling sorry for herself over something that could never be.
Alla angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks, determined to focus on her friend and leave matters that were of no import to the wayside. She slowly stood up. Part of her hated to leave the enclosed area, it was so secluded and peaceful.
The instant Alla walked out of the enclosure, she caught sight of Brandon. He was alone, and the moonlight cast a dream-like glow around him. He seemed to be looking for someone. A small group of young women walked past him; ogling and giggling. He paid them no attention as he surveyed his surroundings.
He must be looking for Miss Taylor, Alla thought, as she began walking away from the tiny alcove. She saw him turn and knew the instant he saw her. He stood still for a split second, and then suddenly began striding towards her with purpose. She remained immobile as he approached.
When he reached her, he looked at her for a full minute in silence until he diverted his attention to looking over her head, to the alcove.
“Are you alone?”
She looked at him as if he were a lunatic. “You can see that I am; your grace.”
He, again, looked behind her. It dawned on Alla that he was thinking someone had gone into the secluded area with her. His eyes remained on the alcove, and then he cynically looked back to her, saying nothing.
“I saw you leave the ballroom,” he stated, “with Kent.”
“Yes,” Alla said looking down. “I needed some air and he offered to escort me out here.”
Brandon again, looked beyond her to the alcove. He was beginning to irritate her. He had Miss Taylor on his arm, why did he care whether someone was with her or not? Tired of his blatant disbelief, she decided to expose his thoughts and show him how foolish he was behaving.
“If you do not believe me, go in there and look for yourself.”
Alla could see the struggle within him. It seemed that that part of him, the gentleman in him, wanted to believe her, and that another part of him simply did not. Now, she knew why he doubted her, why he hated liars. It was because of the situation with Kent, and her lie about going to the port couldn’t have helped the situation either. It would take time for him to trust her. Alla released her irritation, and instead, tried another approach.
“Your grace.”
Brandon dragged his gaze from the small maze and solemnly looked at her.
“Please, go and see for yourself. I’ll wait here.”
Surprise lit his features as he regarded her in contemplation. Finally, he shook his head. “I have no need, Katrina.”
She smiled up at him in pleasure, and he sucked in a breath. She was so beautiful. Something made him pause, and he instantly voiced his thoughts.
“Where is Kent?”
Alla shrugged. “I left him a little earlier.”
“Why did you leave him? Did he do something…untoward?” Brandon seemed calm, but she could hear the underlying promise of violence in his tone. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he was acting so peculiar.
“No; of course not,” she quickly responded. “He was a gentleman. He allowed me the privacy I needed.”
“I see,” he said looking down at her. “Miss Crabtree has been asking after you. Torrington had to detain her from racing out here to find you once she discovered where you had gone.”
“Why did he detain her?”
“They were still on the dance floor,” he returned flatly. “It would not do for his fiancé to leave him standing there alone. So, I offered to come out here and find you.”
“Well, it seems I am found,” she gave him a neutral smile. “I thank you for checking on me, your grace. I was just returning inside. I’ll be there shortly.”
“I’ll escort you inside,” he insisted, offering his arm.
“Very well,” she responded, trying to sound as if she did not care either way.
Brandon paused and inspected her. Something was amiss. He didn’t know what it was but he was determined to find out, and soon. As they strolled back towards the party, Brandon made an earnest effort to start a pleasant conversation with her, but he only received closed-off responses, and was quickly becoming frustrated. He was not accustomed to having to get a woman’s attention, and he didn’t relish the feeling that he was deriving from her neglect.
When they made it to the main balcony, he stopped, forcing her to stop with him.
“I want to know what is wrong with you. We shall dance together, and you will tell me.” His tone brooked no room for argument.
After making that absurd order, he continued on, leading her across the terrace. She didn’t bother to respond, and wasn’t surprised by his high-handedness. He ordered, and expected his orders to be obeyed. But, the fact that he hadn’t respectfully asked what was wrong, that he ordered her to tell him, was ridiculous.
Alla caught sight of Breanne the minute they made it back to the main terrace. She was waiting by the terrace doors, holding a glass of wine, and curiously watched as the two approached.
“Katrina,” she began, smiling tentatively. “Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you as well. Although we are so close, I feel as though I just saw you last night,” she added wickedly.
Breanne sputtered and coughed over her glass, causing a concerned looking Torrington to walk over and place an attentive hand on her arm. She stared daggers at her friend and nodded quickly when he asked her if she was alright.
Alla suppressed a grin and changed the subject. “I needed a moment of air. I am sorry to have left you.”
A reluctant grin spread across Breanne’s face. “I am only happy that you are back. It seemed as if you were gone for a long time. One minute you were there, standing next to the Marquis of Kent, and the next moment you had completely disappeared.”
Alla felt Brandon tense under her hand at the mere mention of her and the marquis disappearing together.
“Yes, well let’s go inside,” she said, quickly changing the subject. “It’s quite chilly out here.” The foursome stepped inside of the ballroom as a beautiful melody began to sound, and couples filed onto the dance floor.
Brandon turned towards Alla; and when she saw that he was about to speak, she turned to Breanne who was speaking with Torrington. Alla was sure that Torrington would sweep Brea out onto the dance floor again, and that she would be left alone with Brandon. That’s not going to happen.
“Didn’t you have something to tell me, Brea?”
“What?” Breanne looked at her completely confused. Alla nonchalantly widened her eyes at Breanne.
“Remember?” Alla prodded. “You were going to tell me about….your plans.”
“Oh…oh yes, I was,” Breanne agreed, nodding, catching the hint.
Torrington looked curious, though he took it all in stride. He patted his friend’s shoulder. “Come Brandon. Let’s leave the women to themselves. They probably wish to discuss something as trivial as lace, or stockings. Lace must be an important subj—“
“Enough, Torrington. You are beginning to sound just like them.”
Torrington chuckled and Brandon fixed Alla with a hard, skeptical glare before nodding at Torrington, and leaving the women to themselves.
“That was quite rude, Katrina. Although I was preoccupied with Torrington, even I could see that the duke was about to ask you to dance with him.”
“I have no wish to dance with him, Brea.”
“Have you gone daft? What woman would not want to dance with him?”
“That is precisely the point.”
Breanne shook her head. “I don’t understand. You snub him because women are attracted to him?”
When Breanne put it like that, her reasoning did sound mad. Alla tried to appeal to her feminine senses.
“Allow me to ask you this; how would you feel if women flocked around Torrington constantly, and he accepted their attention?”
Breanne laughed. “That is precisely what I have experienced. Do you think that no other woman has shown interest in Torrington, despite the fact that we are engaged? Do you know how many offers he has had from women to be his mistress?”
“What?” Surprise shone in Alla’s face and voice. “You haven’t mentioned it this whole while. How did you find out about that?”
“He told me,” she said simply, taking another sip of her wine.
“He what!?” Breanne acted as if they were speaking of the color of petticoats for heaven’s sake.
Breanne nodded. “He told me. He wanted me to know. We are both aware of how the ton talks and how gossip is quick to get around. He informed me so that there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings or misconceptions. He wanted everything out in the open.”
Alla didn’t know what to do with that bit of information. “So, the other women don’t bother you?”
“Of course a part of me is bothered by it. If I did not love him then I doubt it would bother me at all. I trust him,” she continued. “He will remain faithful and he expects the same of me. Our marriage will not resemble the marriages of many others belonging to the ton.”
“I do not know what to say, Breanne. I had no clue that you were going through such a thing.”
“It is nothing to me. As I said, I completely trust him.” Breanne scrutinized her. “Interestingly enough, I had no clue that you were going through such a thing, Katrina.”
“What? Breanne, what are you talking about? I don’t—“
“Do not try to deny it to me. I can see that you care for him.”
“You can?”
Breanne solemnly nodded. “I have suspected it for quite a while.”
Alla gasped. “Breanne, I did not even realize it until tonight. How could you have known? Why did you not say anything?”
“I am quite in tune to your feelings. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you were ready to hear it, and I can see that I was right. It seems as if you are still not ready to hear it.”
Alla shook her head. “I didn’t want this to happen. I am going to put a stop to it, though,” she added absentmindedly. Breanne opened her mouth to question her about that but was cut off when Alla put a hand on her arm. “If you can see how I feel, do you think that Brandon can too?” Breanne couldn’t help but notice the fear in her friend’s voice.
“Brandon?”
“The Duke of Manchester.”
Was her friend that familiar with the duke that she knew his given name? Maybe she didn’t simply care for him; perhaps her feelings went beyond that. Alla’s expression showed that she was scared, so Breanne was not going to break the news to her just yet. She could be wrong after all, though she seriously doubted it.
“I doubt that he can see anything, Katrina.” Breanne reassured her. “You know men; they can be quite slow-witted when it comes to things such as that.”
“Men can be slow-witted when it comes to what?” Torrington towered over Breanne. Her mouth opened, and her eyes widened, causing Alla to hide another smile.
Breanne looked at him and instantly flashed him a bright smile and innocently batted her blue eyes. “Women,” she said loudly over the chatter. “I said women can be quite slow-witted.”
“Ah,” he replied, unconvinced, “well that clears that up.” He gave her a look that told her he was not as dim as she believed him to be. Breanne smiled up at him until he shook his head at her and returned the gesture. He then took the opportunity to ask Breanne to dance and Alla soon found herself standing alone again. She wondered where Brandon had taken himself off to and then mentally crushed the thought. Where he was, or who he was with; was of no concern to her.
Music played throughout the ballroom as couples twirled about on the dance floor. Though she tried to keep her mind off of Brandon, it continued to wander back to him. Where is he?!
She looked for him out on the dance floor and happened to find Addison among the crowd. He danced with a pretty brunette. She watched him, and noticed many women flocking around him in between sets. She had never seen women so eager to catch a man’s attention. Of course, she had never gotten out as much before either. One side of her mouth lifted up in an ironic smirk at her thoughts. What opportunity would she have had to ‘get out,’ anyhow? Standing for hours on end as she observed couples made her feet ache, and the late hour was causing her to become exhausted.
Tired of waiting for Brandon, she turned, took a seat against a wall and waited…and waited. People started to leave the function after it had passed two a.m.; even Breanne and Torrington approached her and bid her a good night. Before they left, she questioned them as to Brandon’s whereabouts but they did not know where he had taken himself off to. That is what they said, anyhow.
Alla believed Breanne, but the expression on Torrington’s face, the subtle hint of satisfaction, caused her to doubt his honesty and sincerity in the matter.
When Brandon finally approached her, she almost wept with relief. Of course, the urge to strangle him was much stronger than her urge to rejoice. She said nothing when he asked her if she was ready to leave. She only stood up, and began walking out of the ballroom towards the carriage. He knew that she was ready! There was barely anyone left at the cursed party!
Brandon caught up with her in only two strides, placed her hand upon his arm, and proceeded to lead her outside. When they got into the carriage, Alla focused her attention to the view outside the window.
When the carriage jolted with the motion of leaving the lane, she looked at him. She had been avoiding his gaze and knowing smile the whole time. If she looked at him, she would only wish to do him harm.
“You were right,” she said breaking the silence. His eyebrows lifted in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to speak to him.
“Yes,” he responded stretching out, and adopting a relaxed position. “I usually am.”
She pretended to ponder his comment. “In a dream world, perhaps,” she conceded finally. “Though in this world, I find that you were right about one thing and one thing alone.”
He smiled at her insult. “And what is that, Katrina?”
“That you are no gentleman…your grace.”
His smile faded slightly. “I thought I gave you permission to use my given name.”
“You did…your grace,” she inclined her head, and if she wasn’t so miffed she would have laughed at the action. She was beginning to act like him somewhat. Breanne was right! Heaven forbid!
“Yet, you do not use it. Why?”
“Perhaps you should think about that. When you finally discover the reason, I shall no doubt be an eighty year old; but I promise to await your response.”
Much to her surprise, he did not become angry with her, he actually smiled again. The moonlight illuminated his face showing his dimple, stubble cheek, and midnight black hair. She was beginning to wish for his anger. Yet, something told her that it would not come.
“I left you sitting alone for a reason, Katrina. Are you not aware of that?”
“I do not care for the reason.”
He nodded, accepting her answer, and then kept silent, diverting his attention elsewhere.
Curse the man! He was very well aware that she wanted to know why he had done such a thing.
A full minute passed before she gave in. “Very well, perhaps I do want to know after all.” When he looked at her, she tried to keep her mind off of how pleasant it would be to literally wipe the smirk from his face.
“You made it obvious that you did not wish to speak to me. I simply granted your deepest wish.”
“At this moment, you wouldn’t want to know what my deepest wish truly is,” she replied sweetly.
“I would,” he contradicted. “I would find great joy in knowing such a thing. I would count it a privilege.”
“You would not count it a privilege if you knew that my deepest wish, at this particular moment, involves your quick and utter demise.”
Brandon laughed. Never had he met a chit that had the audacity to speak to him thus. He found it entertaining, and refreshing. Though at times, entertaining would not be the word he would use to describe her. Words like; frustrating, exasperating, and insufferable came to mind when describing her personality. He suddenly became intent. “I wish to know what is bothering you.”
“Your grace, nothing is—“
“Something has gone awry, Katrina. I demand to know what it is. You have gone back to addressing me by my title, a habit you indulge in only when you are angry with me. I thought we decided to be honest with each other, and was of the impression that we were starting anew. Are you telling me that I was wrong?”
Alla wanted to point out that he was always wrong, but then squelched the thought. This was not the time to banter. He was right. They had said they would be honest with one another. She only had to find the right words to say, a feat that was always quite difficult for her to accomplish.
“When you and Miss Taylor were dancing, a couple happened to stop and converse next to me.” She looked at her lap and endeavored to inflect a nonchalant tone to her voice. “I heard them saying that you…were very fond of Miss Taylor. I hear that she expects to receive an offer from you. That is all well and good,” she added. “I simply…I do not think it wise for me to use your given name any longer... I also do not think it smart that we remain friends. Do not misunderstand; I believe that we should be on good terms with each other. I only…do not think that we should be on a first name basis with each other any longer. It may cause…confusion about some things. I also think that Miss Taylor would probably dislike it.” The carriage came to a halt in front of the manor just as she finished speaking.
Brandon observed her silently until she squirmed in her seat and felt the need to clear her throat again. The footman raced over to them, intent on opening the carriage door but Brandon held up a hand, stopping him instantly. The poor footman was never allowed to complete his duties. Alla watched him back away from the carriage, sporting a baffled expression.
Brandon returned his attention to her, and though she tried, she simply couldn’t read his expression.
“You have certainly been doing a lot of thinking,” he pondered aloud.
“Yes, I have given it all great thought,” she responded. The relief she felt at his seemingly cooperative attitude showed through when she heaved a great sigh, and smiled.
“What sort of confusion?”
He asked the question so quietly that she almost had to strain to hear him. She frowned and her mind scrambled to find what he was talking about.
“You said that continuing on a first name basis with each other could cause confusion about some things,” he prodded, in a hurried manner. “What things?”
Er…Drat! Why had she said that? Alla swallowed thickly and fought the urge to clear her throat again. “Well,” she began to take great interest in finding wrinkles on her gown, “it...,” she sighed, exasperated. “I don’t know; your grace.”
“Yes,” he slowly contradicted. “You do.”
Alla felt cornered. “What I mean to say is that Miss Taylor may become upset because of our…f-familiarity with each other.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should,” Alla insisted.
“Why?”
“Be…because she is…you care for her. You two are…an item of sorts, and…and I can see that you care for her.” Alla was acutely aware of her sudden inability to form sentences. Her heart was pounding, and she felt extremely unsettled. Her discomfort could have stemmed from how Brandon was currently watching her, dissecting her responses, or maybe it was the subject matter. Perhaps, it was the combination of the two things. She just wished for the awkward conversation to be over with so that she could escape to her room.
“Let me see if I can get this straight. You wish to address me by my title, rather than my given name…because you feel as if I care for Miss Taylor?”
Alla did not appreciate how he had worded that. “Do not drag this out, your grace. I only wish to spare her feelings!” She had raised her voice out of her frustration. Surprisingly, Brandon did not show offense to her outburst.
“Since when have you wished to spare her feelings, Katrina?” The soft spoken question caught her attention. He was like a flea on a dog. He wouldn’t let the matter drop, and it caused her frustration to mount. Drat the man! She was only trying to spare her own feelings, now that she realized they were there. It almost seemed as if he were after her to admit that.
“Since now,” she snapped.
Brandon raised an eyebrow, and leaned in toward her, bracing his hand on his chin, rubbing it. “If you want to know, simply ask me.”
“Your grace, I haven’t a clue as to what you—“
“If you wish to know if Miss Taylor and I are an item; you have only to ask.”
Alla felt as if she was a target, and he had just sent his arrow right through her. Why was he putting her in this position? Part of her wished to deny that she wanted to know anything about his personal life. She was almost sure that if she did, the matter would come to a close. Yet…another part of her wished to know. She had assumed that what the couple said was true; but because of his statement, she was beginning to doubt it. Alla was nervous; asking a question like that would show that she cared about what the answer was. Mayhap she would be able to ask, and then act as if she didn’t care…
She forced a dainty nonchalant shrug, and averted her gaze, looking out the window. Clearing her throat again, she admitted, “I am…slightly curious, I suppose, as to whether you and Miss Taylor are an item. I think many people are,” she deflected. “I suppose everyone wants to know the business of a duke,” she said, smiling sheepishly.
Brandon raised both eyebrows and crossed his arms, waiting.
Her answer still hadn’t satisfied him. He wanted the words. What an irritating man he was! Alla wished that she could have a sincere talk with her heart on this matter. If she could put questions to it, reason with it, maybe she could convince it to fall in lo—, to CARE for someone else. Alla immediately whispered a profanity at her thoughts; causing Brandon’s head to tilt to the side in question, and one corner of his mouth to lift up.
Interest flickered in his eyes and she knew that he dearly wished to know her thoughts. “Very well,” she broke the silence. This conversation needed to end. Now. “Are you and Miss Taylor an item?”
Brandon watched her for a minute in contemplation, and then slowly smiled. Why couldn’t he simply answer the question and let that be an end to it? He chose instead to bask in her discomfort. He pushed the carriage door open and stepped out.
Alla felt as if she had been punched in the gut. He wasn’t going to answer her? She shouldn’t be surprised. The blasted man was probably on his way inside the manor, laughing at her. Her ire began to rise as she stood up to step outside. His hand suddenly shot out, grasped her hand, which scared her witless, and helped her out of the carriage. He continued holding her hand, keeping her in front of him as he gazed down at her.
“No,” he whispered. “We are not.”
They are not? They acted as if they were. Miss Taylor certainly focused all of her attention—
“Ask me why,” he huskily demanded, placing one hand on the side of her cheek, stroking it.
She didn’t want to ask him anything. She wanted to go to her bedroom, bury her face in the covers, and pretend that none of this was happening but his eyes held her captive.
“Why?” she asked breathlessly. The word came out before she could stop it.
He smiled tenderly at her. “Because…I care for someone else.” His eyes searched her own as he made that declaration.
“And does this…person, care for you?”
He slowly nodded. “Yes, she does. However, she is very stubborn bit of goods, and would never admit such a thing.”
The feel of his hand, gently stroking her face, caused her thoughts to jumble and blend. She averted her gaze to her feet. He wouldn’t have it. His hand quickly shifted to her chin, tilting her face upwards.
She cleared her throat and saw his fleeting smile in response. Her eyes were held prisoner until his mouth descended upon hers. She expected coldness, or rigidity. After all, he acted as if he were a cold and hard man. He wasn’t. His lips were warm; and gentle, as they caressed her own.
Her heart hammered inside of her chest as his kiss took its’ effect on her, attacking her senses, stripping away her walls, and revealing her heart. His lips lingered on hers for a while until he slowly pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. His hand had been on her face, but at some point it shifted to the back of her head and tangled into her hair, keeping her anchored in place. His quiet ragged breathing sounded as if it were loud through the silence of the night. Alla could smell his cologne. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, and wished that she could keep this one tiny moment forever.
They stood together, in the moonlight by the carriage for quite a while. Alla was not sure of how much time had passed before he finally, reluctantly, stepped away from her. She stared at him as her fingers, of their own accord, reached up, and trembled as they touched her lips. Embarrassment and shame flooded her senses. She had just complicated everything. She quickly gave him an awkward curtsy, and raced to the manor.
“I bid you goodnight, your grace,” she rushed out over her shoulder as she flung the main door open and raced towards the staircase.
Brandon reached her before she could even place one foot on the stairs. He turned her around to face him. “Your grace?”
There was no anger, and no irritation in his expression; only question, and something else that she couldn’t quite name. She looked at her feet. “Goodnight, Brandon,” she whispered.
His silence caused her to glance back up at him, and she found him gazing at her. He slowly smiled. “Goodnight, Katrina,” he returned as he rubbed her cheek with his thumb. She gave a shaky smile back and then turned and went up to her room.
After slamming her bedroom door, she leaned against it, her chest heaving. She was shocked. Hadn’t she stated, and finalized within herself that she would no longer be on close terms with him? But, that was when you thought that he was with Miss Taylor, her heart whispered.
Alla rested a while longer against the door, and then finally stood up on her own and walked over to her bed. She changed into her nightgown, pulled the covers back and crawled into the bed, burying herself into the warmth. She stared up at the ceiling, wondering why she had let things go so far. Her fingers lifted and slid across her lips again. She had never been kissed before. She continued to rub her lips in contemplation. How was she to act when she saw him again? What was she to do?
Alla admitted to herself that she would never regret the kiss. It was beautiful, and she had never felt closer, more in tune with a single person before. It was a new feeling, and one that she would cherish always.
Now, she had only to hope that things would not be awkward between them. She sat up in bed. Would Brandon regret the kiss tomorrow? He had kissed his governess, his secretary. Hadn’t Torrington told her that men only do that with women that they are engaged to? Had she done something improper? She thought about Addison and Brandon, and the rift that had grown between the two men. Would the sudden turn of events affect their relationship? Addison was her friend, Brandon was her…what was he?
Alla lay back down. Though she tried to sleep, her mind continued to race and her heart continued to pound. She sighed in defeat, realizing that the night would be a long one. She turned to her stomach and snuggled into the covers once more. Of all of the questions that pummeled her throughout the night, only one stood out. Would he have kissed me if he knew who I truly am? That final question kept her waking up throughout the night. It invaded her dreams, and sent pangs through her heart.