“May I ask you something?” she started next, her voice soft and probing.
He considered her. “Perhaps.”
She shook her head and smiled. “As I waited, I could not help but notice that portrait.” She indicated the portrait of the young woman. “May I ask who she is?”
Clara realized immediately that she had said the wrong thing. The duke stiffened where he sat. His expression turned dark. A cold swept through the dining room and made her shudder. Theduke looked at the portrait, the darkness giving way to a sadness not-so-hidden in his eyes. He considered a moment…
“No,” he said finally. “You may not.”
Ah, so that explains who she is. In a fashion. Why does the duke act as he does? Why is he so guarded? The woman, whoever she is, must be the cause.
They spent the remainder of their supper in silence. And where it was indeed awkward and tense, it was strangely comforting in ways that Clara had trouble clarifying. She sensed in the duke someone who was as lost as she was. She knew now that he wasn’t angry at her, nor was he someone to be feared. He had his walls erected high and strong, but they were not impenetrable.
The duke was the first to rise from the table once they had finished eating. He did not look at her as he started around the table and made for the door.
“Good night, Your Grace,” she said after him.
He reached the door, hesitating on the threshold. She did not turn to watch him, sensing him there, a battle of some sort raging within. “You may call me Alaric,” he said finally.
“Excuse me?” she turned to him.
“Alaric,” he repeated. “Your Grace… there is no need for the formality.”
“Oh…” She blinked and then smiled. “If that is the case, I insist you call me Clara.”
It was subtle, but she saw a smile reach his eyes, then gone as quickly as it had arrived. He turned and strode from the room without another word, leaving Clara alone once more.A state of being I am getting used to.
The difference now was that for the first time, Clara was not feeling so alone. And the foreboding that had sat with her since arriving had faded fully. Still, she and Alaric were not companionable. There was no comfort there. But she could sense it brimming beneath the surface.He wants to get to know me; I have to believe that.
Why did he still refuse to do so? Well, that was the question that Clara was determined to figure out.
Eight
It was the following morning, and Clara had just finished breaking her fast. Alone, as it was, but that was to be expected. A simple meal of toast and eggs, sided with jasmine tea to wash it down. And where the breakfast was nothing unexpected, what surprised her most was that when she entered the breakfast room, the curtains had been opened so the morning sun might shine through.
“Is something the matter, Your Grace?” It was Mr. Winters, waiting by the table as if he had known that she would be arriving at this time.
“It is just such a lovely day,” she said simply.
What she did not say was how surprised she was to find the curtains drawn. Since her arrival, she could not think of a single instance where natural light had been allowed into the castle. And even in her room, where she had opened the curtainsherself, she had found it a pointless endeavor, for a natural gloom seemed to hover permanently above the estate.
Today was different. Clear, bright blue skies with a yellow sun that was warm on her skin as she sat down.
“His Grace asked that they be,” Mr. Winters told her as he helped her into her seat. “He did not say why.”
Did he now…she smiled knowingly to herself, smitten because she had no doubt this was done for her benefit. Such a small thing, but she sensed that where the duke was concerned, small gestures were as good as could be hoped for.
It was thirty minutes later when she finished her breakfast. With half a cup of tea left to drink, she decided to take it to her room to finish. She rose from the seat, porcelain in hand, her mind wandering now to what she would do for the rest of the day. She needed to organize supplies for the garden. And it might do for her to try and brighten up –
“Oh!” she gasped as she stepped from the breakfast room, so lost in her own thoughts that she did not hear Alaric coming. Nor did she see him.
He was mere feet away, like a shadow growing from the walls. The effect saw her gasp, jump, and then drop her cup of tea, which shattered across the marble floor into a dozen little pieces.
“Oh no!” she cried again. “I am so sorry -- I did not see you!”
“The fault is mine.”
“And this mess…” She grimaced as she looked at the shattered porcelain at her feet. “Here, I will just…” She was shaking from the shock, adrenaline rising, mind racing. Thus, she did not hesitate or consider the danger as she dropped to her knees in a vain effort to clean the mess.
