“Don’t be foolish, Keira,” Alec said, not leaving his spot near the hearth. “Why would you encourage him when you know you cannot marry him?”
I clasped my hands on my lap and studied them as I tried to gather my wits about me. “He’s a very charming young man. It will be nice to have his friendship.”
Alec snorted—which caused me to finally look at him.
“He’s too young,” Alec said, “and besides, he gets bored easily and moves from one thing to the next. He hasn’t taken anything serious in his life and won’t start now. He’ll toss you aside at the least provocation.”
My anger at Alec was intensifying, and I wasn’t sure why. I stood, my chest rising and falling quickly. “If I cannot keep the attention of Mr. Vanderbilt, how will I keep the attention of a duke?”
“A duke will be desperate—Vanderbilt is not.”
My mouth slipped open at his harsh comment, and I took a step back.
“Keira, that’s not what I meant.” Alec moved away from the hearth, remorse in his face. “I’m sorry.”
“I know what you meant,” I said just above a whisper, my anger turning to pain. “Only a desperate man in need of money would take me seriously.”
“That’s not—no.” He shook his head and swallowed. “I only meant that Vanderbilt has the luxury of choosing—” He paused again, clearly digging himself deeper.
“Please don’t,” I told him, holding up my hand, my accent deepening with my emotions. “I’m very aware of who I am and why someone like George Vanderbilt wouldn’t be interested in me if he knew the truth.”
“Keira—”
“I should not have encouraged him,” I continued, “but I’m not as heartless as the rest of your kind.” I turned away to leave, but he reached out and grabbed my hand.
“Please, Keira.” He gently slipped his fingers through mine. “I didn’t mean what I said. I don’t like George Vanderbilt, and I allowed my dislike of him to influence my words. Trust me when I say I didn’t mean them.”
My hand tingled from the pressure of his, but I refused to look at him. I had never felt the emotions that were stirring in my heart, and I wasn’t sure which way to turn. Alec was my only friend in this house, and he had been kind to me. I owed it to him to listen.
“Why don’t you like Mr. Vanderbilt?” I asked.
He softly tugged my hand until I turned to face him. “My dislike for him is a recent development,” he said quietly.
I needed to change the subject as I disentangled our hands. “Aunt Maude is planning a debutante ball for me, before we leave for France.”
“I know. She told me.” He did not sound pleased.
“Don’t you think I should have a ball?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that it’s all—” He shook his head in frustration. This was a side of Alec I’d never seen before. He was usually affable and teasing, but something had changed recently. “If you want a ball, you should have a ball. If you want Vanderbilt—or your cabin by the stream—or a duke, then you should have it, Keira. It doesn’t matter what I think.” He moved toward the door and stopped. “I am going away again. I don’t know when I’ll return, but I’ll be back in time for your ball.”
“You’re going away?” My pulse sped up. My ball wasn’t until the end of February. Two whole months to navigate society without him? To endure Aunt Maude’s endless lessons? To miss him? “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to Newport—” He paused, as if he wanted to say more, but then he shook his head.
“When are you going?”
“Now. This morning. I should be on my way already.”
I walked across the room, trying to think of a way I might convince him to stay.
We stood facing one another as we had the night before.
The only difference was, last night had been bathed in candlelight, with falling snow brushing the windows. Now, the harsh morning light glared off the piles of snow—and the mistletoe was gone.
