I had been tired—exhausted. But seeing him and dancing with him had given me a burst of energy I couldn’t explain. I shook my head.
He smiled at me. “What would you like to do?”
I’d grown bold over the past two months as Aunt Maude had taught me the art of authority—within reason. “Why didn’t you write to me?”
Alec let out a sigh and took a step back, causing me to loosen my hold on his arm.
I frowned, confused by his behavior now and over the past two months. “I thought we were friends, Alec.”
“We are friends, Kiera.”
It felt good to hear my name again.
“But, perhaps,” he said, “the foyer isn’t the place for this conversation.”
“Then come with me to the library.” I put my hand on his arm and tugged him gently.
We walked through the shadowed hall to the library, the train of my cream and gold skirt trailing behind me. When he opened the door, there was enough light outside to see that it was snowing. The coals from a fire in the hearth the night before were still warm, offering a soft glow in the room.
I entered and he followed. He paused a moment before shutting the door.
When he turned back to me, the tension that had coiled during our kiss under the mistletoe had returned and it tightened in my belly. I crossed my arms and rubbed my gloved hands over my bare skin, suddenly feeling cold.
He went to the fireplace and stirred the coals before adding a few more logs to the fire.
“Why didn’t you write to me?” I asked, my voice lower.
Alec slowly rose from the hearth, but he did not turn around to look at me. “I think you know the answer, Keira.”
Shaking my head, I took a step closer to him. “I don’t.”
He put his hand on the mantel, as if to steady himself.
“I missed you,” I whispered, taking another step closer, wanting to be near him.
Finally, he turned, and his blue eyes were filled with longing. “How can you not know I’m in love with you?”
My lips parted as the truth settled into my aching heart. I swallowed as my chest rose and fell on short breaths. “Alec—”
The door to the library opened and a scullery maid appeared, an ash bucket in her hands. Her eyes grew wide. “Pardon me,” she said as she took a step back and closed the door.
Alec went to the door and opened it again. “We’re just leaving,” he told the girl. “Come and do your task.”
She looked as uncertain as I felt.
“We cannot have the staff gossiping,” Alec said in a low tone as he rejoined me by the fireplace and offered me his arm.
We passed the maid as we left the room and walked slowly down the hallway.
“Alec,” I said again, trying to wrap my mind around what he'd said. I had hoped—almost believed it to be true—but to hear it on his lips was overwhelming.
“Please don’t,” he told me, stopping near a darkened alcove. The months apart had been a strain on him, causing lines to crease around his eyes. “Nothing can come of my feelings. I should not have spoken.”
My lips parted as a thousand wishes poured from my heart, begging to be spoken. I wanted to tell him I loved him, too, yet the words stuck in my throat.
“I have only returned for a short visit,” he said, looking down at his hands. “I am needed back in Newport as soon as possible. I told Aunt Maude I wouldn’t be here for your party—” He paused and finally lifted his gaze to my face. “But I have something very urgent I need to discuss with her and at the last minute, I tried to get here in time for your ball. But I was delayed.” He let out a breath. “You should go to bed, Keira. I’m certain you’ll have callers here in a few hours, perhaps even an invitation to Alva Vanderbilt’s ball, and you need some sleep.”
I swallowed and glanced toward the library. “But what about—”
