“What are you doing?” Rose asked incredulously.
“I need to hear what happens!” she replied, her voice muffled by the upholstery. “Pretend I’m not here.”
Salisbury stepped into the doorway. “Mr. Alexander Carroway,” he announced.
Rose stood, plastering a smile on her face. “I can do this,” she whispered. “I’ll do anything for you.”
It was far later than he had planned when Alex arrived at Boar’s Hill. He needed to borrow a horse from Henry, and true to his image, Henry refused to be roused from his bed without Alex threatening bodily harm.
After a brief and nervous ride, Alex found himself in the majestic corridor of Boar’s Hill. Funny how the home seemed so much larger and intimidating in the light of day without hundreds of guests pushing around him. Aware of how out of his element he truly was, his hand trembled when he gave his card to the skeptical butler.
It’s not important,he thought.She didn’t care who I was last night, and she won’t today. And when he stepped into the parlor, he saw his Rose. She stood near the window, dressed in pink linen. Funny, her hair was darker than he had remembered it, perhaps it had been the lighting, but no matter. She was beautiful and smiling at him.
“Miss Rose,” he said softly, bowing awkwardly with a crooked grin.
She smiled, walking over and extending her hand. He took it and bowed again, and the excitement in his veins cooled. He felt nothing at her touch, none of the marvelous connection they had experienced the night before. He had expected fireworks, the warmth spreading through his skin like liquid honey when he touched her lips on the terrace. “It’s—it’s lovely to see you again,” she stammered.
Perhaps it was the intimacy they shared. Of course they would feel uncomfortable when standing in her parents’ parlor. Why did this feel so discomfiting, after the incredible bond they shared last night?
“Please, have a seat.” she motioned toward the sofa. He sat tentatively, then popped up again.
“I have something for you,” he said, eager to see her reaction as he handed her a small wrapped package.
Rose smiled and opened the paper, her face falling the slightest bit. “Oh,” she said. “A…book.”
“It’s a poetry book.De Profundisby Oscar Wilde. It was published posthumously, and I know you enjoyed his prior works, so I thought you would like it.”
She blinked, then smiled in his direction as he set the book unopened by her side. “How thoughtful, thank you.” Her eyes kept darting to the sofa by the window and she shifted in her seat.
Alex shifted, his stomach souring. Her smile had not seemed forced last night, and yet she was clearly uncomfortable today. The poetry book should have thrilled her. What had changed?
“I do hope you enjoyed the festivities last evening,” she said.
Memories flooded back to him, the delightful sound of her laugh, the feeling of her hand in his. Their kiss. “You know I did,” he replied with a shy grin.
She blushed and turned away. “I’m happy to hear that.” She clenched her fists in her blush pink skirt and immediately released them. “And what do you have planned for this afternoon, Mr. Carroway?”
Mr. Carroway? Why not Alex? “I will be back in the library. Final exams begin in less than a fortnight, and I must be ready.”
“Oh, and what are you studying?” He could have sworn Rose flinched immediately upon asking the question.
He looked at her in confusion. They had discussed mathematics for at least an hour the previous evening. “Maths,” he said, his voice even.
“Of course.” She laughed, a little too brightly for his ears. “How silly of me.”
Silence fell between them. Alex ran his sweaty palms over his trousers as Rose sniffed and looked everywhere but at him. His stomach sank.She’s embarrassed by me. I was a diversion for a night, but now it’s back to reality.
He stood in a rush, knocking his shins into the low table between them. “I’m afraid I must be going. I borrowed a friend’s horse, and I’m certain he will miss it.”
Rose looked positively horrified by the prospect of borrowing a horse. She stood and curtsied to him. “Thank you for coming by, Mr. Carroway, and thank you for the book. I shall, erm…read it posthaste.”
He pressed his lips into a thin smile and drew her mask from his coat pocket. “You left without this. Last night.” He held the mask out and she took it, careful to avoid his touch. “I was worried,” he said, his voice low.
She looked up at him, and he could see her eyes clearly for the first time. They were green, like an emerald glittering in the light. He could have sworn he remembered her eyes differently, as being more faceted, with flecks of amber and gold. He must have been wrong. He was clearly wrong about many things.
“Thank you.” She gestured toward the door.
Alex nodded again to Rose, then stepped into the hallway. After retrieving his coat and hat from Salisbury, he found a bored-looking groom waiting for him in the drive with his, well, Henry’s horse. As though they were desperate to be rid of him as soon as possible.
