Dorothy looked at Stephen and was pleased to see that he had no intention of revealing what they had seen either. She smiled at him softly, and he nodded. It was a sign of silent understanding. They didn’t want the white stag to get killed.
As the conversation moved on and Dorothy tried to talk with Lady Charlotte and Lady Frederica, she found herself frequently distracted. When Stephen’s cup emptied of coffee, she refilled it for him, aware that he continued to look at her with something she couldn’t quite decipher.
Gradually, everyone left the breakfast room—all except the two of them and Lord and Lady Webster.
Dorothy would have followed Lady Charlotte and Lady Frederica out of the room if she was not so worried about Stephen. She stayed by his side, all too aware of how little he had eaten.
“Stephen,” she whispered as Lord and Lady Webster busied themselves with discussing the upcoming event. “Your plate. You have not eaten much.”
“It is the dizziness. It doesn’t induce one to eat.” Stephen waved away the idea and even pushed his plate away from him.
The guilt niggled at Dorothy again.
“I am sorry,” she murmured, unable to look at him. She stared at his plate instead.
“Do not apologize anymore,” he pleaded.
Once more, his hand reached for her elbow under the table. She inhaled softly at his touch, wondering when his touches had begun to have such an effect on her.
She had always known him to be handsome—always thought it ever since she had been a child—and over the last two years, it had become something she found equally infuriating and attractive. Yet, what did all this fluttering in her stomach mean when he touched her? Why did she long to return to the night before and this time taste one of those kisses?
“Come, Your Grace.” Lord Webster stood from across the table. “The physician has come back this morning and would like to check on you. I will take you to him.”
“Thank you.” Stephen stood on his own and at least did not look so dizzy now.
Dorothy watched him from her seat, her eyes never straying from him. When he looked back at her from the doorway, her stomach fluttered again, and then he was gone with Lord Webster.
“Lady Dorothy.”
Dorothy jumped as she found Lady Webster had moved to the seat Stephen had just vacated.
“May I speak to you openly for a minute?” Lady Webster asked.
“Oh, erm…”
Dorothy struggled to find her words. She could well remember the last time she and Lady Webster had spoken alone. The lady had talked of little else beyond the fact Dorothy didn’t wear jewelry, with her chin tipped high. Dorothy rather feared what more gossip would be spread about her if she spent more time alone with Lady Webster.
“Of course,” she said dutifully.
Stephen would be proud of me. Look at me putting propriety above my true thoughts!
“You and the Duke of Stotbury seem like such good partners.” Lady Webster smiled rather gleefully. “Forgive my nosy nature, but I cannot help wondering if perhaps there is something here more than just a family friendship?”
Dorothy’s face flushed bright red. She wondered for a minute if someone had, indeed, been outside Stephen’s door the night before, when they had nearly kissed. Had whispers already gone around the group?
“What? No, no, of course not. We are just friends, and we argue so much. You must have seen that, too.”
Lady Webster nodded with an amused smile. “Well, you two bicker, of course, like most married couples.”
“I’m sorry?” Dorothy asked, her voice quiet.
“Some couples are so in tune with each other, they know what the other thinks and agree with them constantly.” Lady Webster sighed. “But that is not every couple. I have seen many that challenge one another. Between you and me—” She leaned forward, whispering to Dorothy conspiratorially, “They are the ones who have more fun in their marriage. They are constantly laughing together.”
She chuckled and stood from her seat. “Well, forgive me. What I have said will stay between us, of course, but you must forgive me my ways.” She laughed, waving her hand in the air. “It’s just when I see a partnership like yours, one where you know each other so well as to prepare each other’s drinks the way you like them, I know how rare it is.”
With these words, she strode out of the room, leaving Dorothy staring at the empty breakfast table.
For a moment, Dorothy saw this same table a few days ago when Stephen had made her tea the way she liked it. She also saw him at the picnic when he passed her one of the pork pies that she liked so much.
