“You were paying attention?”
“Of course,” he shrugged.
“Yes, poetry. But also other things…”
“Like?”
“I…you wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me. You’d be surprised to know how open-minded I can be.”
Amelia huffed what Gideon thought might have been a chuckle. “I suppose it should not surprise me that you managed to make a question posed for me all about yourself. Nevertheless, I’ll indulge you. I like to write fiction stories, oftentimes about mystical beings that are usually spoken about in fairytales.”
Nowthatsurprised him. “I must say, I did not expect that.”
“Yes, well, I have always had a rather active imagination. And I found that writing fiction has been a very helpful way of clearing my mind.”
“Writing about wives who know when to accept apologies helps to clear your mind?”
“I knew I should not have said anything,” Amelia muttered.
“Ah, forgive me, I could not help myself. But I am truly intrigued by that. It isn’t often I come across a lady who weaves tales with pens rather than her tongue. I would be honored to read your work someday.”
“Perhaps,” she replied noncommittally. “But I do not quite trust you yet.”
“I do not trust you either,” Gideon countered and he didn’t quite like the way the words felt on his tongue—as if he was lying. “After all, I do not yet know your intentions for forcing this marriage.”
“Iforced the marriage?” she asked, sounding somewhat skeptical. “If I recall correctly, you were the one who came to my aunt and uncle and all but professed your undying love for me.”
“Surely you know I only did what was expected of me. Given the choice, I would not have married so young.”
“So young?” She eyed him curiously. “What is your age, might I ask?”
A look of realization flashed in Gideon’s eyes. She did not know his age. Well, it was quite understandable considering they had both gone quite out of their way to make sure they knew very little about each other. “I am thirty,” he answered simply. “And I take it you are at an age quite close to spinsterhood. It is the only reason I can think of to explain your eagerness to marry.”
“I am one-and-twenty,” Amelia told him. “And yes, I was growing desperate—as many women my age would. Feel free to resent me for that all you like, not like you don’t already anyway.”
Her tone of finality caught him off guard. Gideon immediately felt bad for the way he’d spoken, though he didn’t dare to show it. An apology rushed to the tip of his tongue and he tucked it into his cheek to keep from saying it aloud.
“Do you regret it then?” Amelia’s voice was barely audible as she spoke. She kept her eyes trained over his shoulder, her fingers tensing slightly in his grasp.
Gideon felt the truth on his tongue before he could restrain it. “I do not.”
Blue eyes flicked up to him. “Why?”
“Because you are not who I expected you to be.” It was the truth, as much of it as he would allow himself to reveal, anyway.
Gideon glanced down at her, just in time to catch the makings of a smile dancing across her lips before she swiftly averted her face. “You are not what I expected either. I do not fear you at all, which is rather unexpected seeing that you are the Masked Ro—”
“Hush!” he hissed. A surge of panic forced his eyes to glance around but no one seemed to have overheard them. “Are you out of your senses? How dare you even think of saying that name here?”
“Why do you do it?” she pressed on. He was squeezing her hand tightly but if it hurt her, she didn’t show it. Challenge sparked in her eyes. “Why do you insist on turning into that monster?”
“That monster is my true self. I only wear the mask of the Duke. If you know so much about my secrets, you should have realized this by now.”
Amelia tugged her hand free, stepping away from him the moment the music came to an end. He didn’t know if she’d timed that perfectly or if it was a mere coincidence. But there was hurt and confusion in her eyes and that distracted him for a moment.
“But I cannot understand it,” she pleaded. Others began to disperse, making way for the next couples arriving to dance the upcoming set. Yet, she seemed oblivious to it all. “If perhaps you could explain to me why you do the things that you do, then perhaps I could help you? Maybe we could find a way to put an end to it—”
