Finishing his cup, Teller stood and extended his hand. “I respect you, Your Grace.”
Getting to his feet, too, Dorian took his hand and shook it. “So do I, Teller.”
When the man left, Dorian refreshed his cup and raked his hand through his hair.
This ruse had gone on for a little too long.
It is only a matter of time before he finds out about… him.
Maybe I should have cut this at the quick instead.
Silence spun like an invisible rope, tightening the air of the drawing room. Ellie felt her skin prickle as she contemplated her next words.
“Have you ever been in love, Victoria?” she blurted, and almost immediately, she wanted to snatch those words from the air and swallow them.
“D-don’t answer that,” she quickly cut in, her eyes falling to the amber depths of her cooling tea. “That was intrusive and insensitive of me. I am sorry I asked.”
“No,” Victoria said after a long moment, as she pulled a soft blanket from over the back of a chair. “You have nothing to be sorry about, and to answer your question, yes. I have been in love. The only thing is, it brought more pain to me than I thought it would.”
Shifting closer, Ellie asked, “Whatever do you mean?”
“Do you recall that summer Papa took us to the coast?” Victoria asked. At Ellie’s nod, she continued, “I met a boy, a preacher's son, who was sweet on me. Papa banned me from seeing him, told me I would disgrace his house if I married a commoner.
“Papa said he hadno interest in meeting a boy who seduced me from my good senses because he wished to elevate himself and his family,” Victoria continued, deep in thought.
“I would go to sleep with him on my mind and wake up yearning to see his face. To this day, I wonder if that had been love or simply youthful infatuation.” Victoria lifted a shoulder. “It was intoxicating nonetheless, as heady as Spanish wine.”
Ellie nibbled on her bottom lip. She could not admit that was the very same thing happening to her at times.
“Dare I ask if you’re falling for him?” Victoria inquired.
“I—I do not know,” Ellie admitted.
She knew she was a virgin, but she was no fool. In the times they’d been together, Dorian’s masterful touch had stirred something inside her. His touch was deliciously dominant, but even under his fierce eye, she felt safe.
Her insides grew hot at the memory of his lips coasting over her skin, at her most intimate places. She’d always known he’d wanted her surrender, but she hadn’t yielded, not completely, because a part of her wondered if she did give in, would he simply slash another notch on his bedpost and walk away.
“Ellie?” Victoria prodded.
“I know he is the only man I have ever known, and the way we met—”
“Howdidyou meet?” Victoria asked, her eyes narrowing. “How did you truly meet?”
She did not want to tell her friend—well, not yet anyhow—of how Dorian had abducted her from the church’s vestibule. Something deep inside her told her it was not time yet. “Please, Victoria,” she said calmly, “I do not want to recite such a dull subject.”
Sighing, Victoria replied, “Well, back to the previous conversation. Are you falling in love with this Duke of yours? The one no one truly knows.”
Am I in love with Dorian?
Dorian had his issues, his chronic distrust of everything and anyone made her heart ache, but she knew it all stemmed from the difficulties of his childhood.
When he stepped into the role of the Duke of Wolfthorne, he was proud and powerful.
When he was Dorian, he was so…separated.
She’d sensed his loneliness and wondered if he would ever allow someone to burrow—or break through—those walls of his, and allow himself to feel.
Would he ever allow himself to trust someone, to love someone, to not have to look over his shoulder at every moment of every day?
