Beatrice and Alexander sprang apart. For not the first time in her life, Beatrice mentally cursed Dietrich. Blast him and his inconvenient timing.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked, strolling in as if he hadn’t noticed the near-kiss. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious, just like every other meal here.”
“Our cook is certainly good at what she does,” Alexander said, his tone sharp as he turned to Dietrich.
Dietrich’s arrival triggered a flood of servants bearing trays. They served the food and disappeared almost as quickly as they’d come.
“Thank you, Colette,” Beatrice said as the last maid left.
“Oh boy, this looks good,” Dietrich said, digging into his plate of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. “I could live here with you forever, right, Beatrice? You don’t need me to go back to my job.”
Beatrice shared a glance with Alexander, whose cheeks were flushed. It was probably a good thing she couldn’t see her own face.
“I think when this is over, you should go back home,” she said decisively.
She had a husband to kiss, and she didn’t need Dietrich here to ruin it anymore.
Chapter twenty-one
Alexander
Alexander glared at Dietrich,who lingered at the table even after dinner had ended. What he was waiting for, Alexander didn’t know, but if he didn’t leave soon, he would face Alexander’s wrath.
Alexander hadn’t realized until now how much he wanted to kiss Beatrice. There hadn’t been any signs or warnings; the feelings had simply crashed into him. Perhaps it had something to do with how she had saved him from his curse, or maybe it was just that she was the first woman he’d ever grown close to emotionally. Whatever the reason, the need to kiss her was stronger than anything he had felt before, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Why did she affect him so much?
It wasn’t entirely surprising that he wanted to kiss her. He’d nearly admitted that he loved her—an admission he hadn’t even made to himself. The fact that the words had almost slipped out when he least expected them seemed like a sign that perhaps the feelings were real. Maybe he wasn’t as stone-hearted as he thought. Maybe his wife was bringing out his human side.
As the servants began clearing the table, Beatrice stood and thanked them before leaving the dining room. She glanced back at Alexander as if to say,are you coming with me?
Dietrich bounded to his feet as though to follow her, and Alexander shot him a glare. The man grinned and sat back down, the audacity of it all only fueling Alexander’s irritation.
Alexander followed Beatrice out, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Dietrich stayed put. He did, remaining in his chair with a smirk that made Alexander want to pummel him.
Beatrice led him into the sitting room, which had been cleared of furniture and decorated in preparation for their second wedding. She turned to him, smiling as she held out her hand.
“I have a request,” she said.
Alexander raised an eyebrow.
“Will you teach me how to dance?”
He shouldn’t have been surprised by the question, but he was. It had never occurred to him that she didn’t know how to dance. Some part of him had assumed that everyone knew.
Maybe she only knew the simpler country dances?
“It would be my honor,” he said gruffly, taking her hand. “But we don’t have any music.”
“We don’t need music,” Beatrice replied with a smile. “We can pretend.”
Alexander took a deep breath before placing his other hand on her waist and pulling her closer. “Would you like to start with a waltz, or something else?”
Beatrice smiled up at him. “Whatever you think is best. You’re the expert here, not me.”
“Surely you’ve read about dancing,” he said.
“Reading and experiencing are two very different things,” she replied. “For example, I could read about magic all I want—and I have these past two days—but I’d never be able to perform it like Guinevere. It’s simply not my gift.”
