What had Aunt Maude meant? Had Alec and Annabelle been part of a scandal? Together?
“As for you,” Aunt Maude said as she stood and addressed me, “you came dangerously close to ruining everything tonight. I expect better from you. We’ll resume lessons in the morning and will work night and day until you are ready.”
I nodded, dreading the work, but unable to deny her demands.
“I’m exhausted,” she said as she walked toward the door. “Good night.”
“Good night,” I said quietly.
After she left, neither Alec nor I spoke for several moments, but there was a question that had been burning inside me all evening.
“Who is Annabelle?”
He continued to stare into the flames and was quiet for so long, I was afraid he wouldn’t answer.
Finally, he said, “She is—was—” He paused. “I was in love with her once upon a time.”
Was he still in love with her?
“What happened?”
He turned to me, and I saw the pain in his gaze. “I wasn’t good enough for her.”
“How could that possibly be true?”
The look he gave me was a cross between tenderness and frustration at my naiveté.
“Annabelle’s mother, just like Aunt Maude, has her sights set higher. She will take Annabelle to Europe in the spring to look for their entrance into the English aristocracy, just like so many others. Despite my uncle’s close relationship with Annabelle’s father, and their years of devoted friendship, I do not have a title, so I was turned away when I asked for Annabelle’s hand in marriage.”
A strange stab of jealousy tore at my heart. He had loved Annabelle enough to marry her?
I walked over to the hearth to face him, the train of my gown brushing against the thick carpet. “I’m sorry, Alec.”
The depth of his sadness sliced through me as the firelight flickered over the planes of his handsome face. As his gaze caressed mine, he said, “It seems my lot in life is to fall in love with women who are out of my reach.”
My pulse thudded as my heart begged to believe he meant me. Yet—I knew better than to hold on to false hope.
I couldn’t look into his eyes, realizing I was ignorant and naïve about this, too.
“Do you still love Annabelle?” I asked, needing to shift the conversation back to solid ground.
“No.” He was quiet for a moment before he whispered, “Someone else has captured my heart.”
I could hardly breathe as I looked down at my hands, forcing myself to accept that he meant someone else. “She is a lucky young lady.”
I felt his gaze upon me. “I hope she would think so, though I’m not certain she’s aware of my feelings.”
Swallowing, I asked, “Have you not told her?”
He didn’t respond immediately, so I finally looked up. His expression was so intense, so full of longing and heartbreak, it was hard to hold his gaze—but I did.
“I am not at liberty to tell her how I feel—and I’m afraid she’s not at liberty to return my affections.”
I swallowed the nerves racing up my throat. The look in his eyes told me itwasme that he spoke of, yet nothing in my experience had taught me that such a thing could be true. Even still, I whispered, “We are never without hope, Alec.”
He studied me, as if trying to answer a question. “I fear she will never know the depths of my love for her, because even if I told her, she would not have the freedom to accept it." He let out a breath. "It would be torture for both of us.”
I couldn’t stand under the weight of his heartache—a heartache that matched my own. I had to get away, to be alone and grapple with the emotions that tossed me about.
