In the stillness, Alethea listened to the others' breathing gradually deepen. Only Oliver remained somewhat awake; Alethea could tell because every now and then his head turned on the pillow.
Perhaps he's having as much trouble settling as I am, she thought. She kept her eyes shut, even though her mind whirled.
CHAPTER 11
"Alethea? Are you awake?"
Oliver said the words to her when everyone else had already drifted off to sleep. It seemed that the duke was just as sleepless as she was this night.
She turned to face him, though she could only make out a faint outline of him in the dark room.
"Yes. I cannot seem to fall asleep just yet."
"Nor I," Oliver replied, and then in a tender voice added, "I hope you enjoyed tonight."
"Oh, I did," she assured him earnestly. "It was wonderful. I have never... that is, I don't think I've ever laughed so much."
"I'm glad to hear it. We can be a ridiculous lot, I know, but the point is always to enjoy ourselves." He paused a moment. "And to make everyone feel they belong."
Everyone, includingher.She felt a flutter in chest again.
"You are quite good at doing that."
"Does that overwhelm you as well?" he asked, referring back to the conversation they had at the ball.
"Well, perhaps. But not in a bad way," she said, earnestly. "I confess, I wasn't sure what to do. I've never had a family night or anything remotely like it."
"There is a first time for everything," he said simply.
There was silence for a long moment. Alethea wondered if the duke had fallen asleep. But then he spoke gain.
"Earlier, when you told your ghost story."
Alethea tensed, involuntarily. Her suspicions were seeming to be correct that Oliver saw more than the surface tonight.
"I'm sorry," he murmured quickly. "I don't mean to pry or upset you. I only... well, I noticed how it began. And how you changed it midway."
"You are quite interceptive," she could only say in response.
"When it comes to you, yes," Oliver nodded. "I would like to know more."
Alethea felt as though it was time for her to be honest to the duke. She had kept the details of her history closely guarded since coming here. Not that Oliver had ever pressed her but she knew he was aware of some of it.
Her sisters would have told him the basics: that she had been lost as a child, raised in a convent-like nunnery. But no one really knew the details of it.
Alethea's throat tightened. Part of her wanted desperately to keep all those years locked away. But another part of her yearned for him toknow. She wasn't sure why it felt so important that he understand; perhaps because, more than anyone, he had shown her that men could be gentle.
Alethea swallowed, gathering her courage.
"I would like to tell you," she said quietly. "About my story... You deserve to know what sort of person you married."
He waited for her to continue.
"You know some of it already, I think. I was lost as a child. I was barely two, no, actually, I had just turned three." Her brow furrowed in concentration; she realized she hadn't truly spokenof that day to anyone in detail before. "My family was traveling and there was an accident. I don't recall much, only cold water all around me and being terribly afraid."
"They thought I died. And I suppose, in a way, I did die that day, at least the life I was meant to have ended. Because I was found downstream by someone else entirely."
"Go on," Oliver said, finding her hand underneath the covers.
