“What? Oh.” Dorothy shifted on the rug. “He has certainly been attentive, but love? No, no.” She shook her head firmly.
She realized that on this last day, she had scarcely spared a thought for Lord Chilmond at all. She had thought of Stephen and Stephen alone. No one else.
That is because of his injury, though, is it not?
She was no longer so sure. Her chest hurt, and she rubbed it, hoping to alleviate the feeling.
“Strange, I thought she was asking to determine her feelings about another man.” Lady Charlotte smiled broadly and moved to her knees, pinning Dorothy with a rather keen look.
Don’t say it. Please, do not say it.
Yet, Lady Charlotte was more perceptive than she had given her credit for.
“Why do you argue so much with the Duke of Stotbury?”
“Ooh.” Lady Frederica made an interesting sound.
Dorothy jerked her head back and forth, uncertain whom to look at more. She half expected Lady Frederica to shoot her a panicked look, for hadn’t Stephen been flirting with her? Yet, she gave no sign of this question upsetting her at all.
“We always argue.” Dorothy shrugged. “It is just the way we have always been. I cannot even remember how it became our habit. The first time I ever saw him, he thought I was a boy. I was only ten years old at the time, and since that moment, every time we saw each other, we would argue.”
“Or bicker,” Lady Charlotte said, her smile growing. “In my experience, arguing and bickering are two different things.”
Dorothy had no answer. She just looked between the pair of them again, feeling her face flush a deeper shade of red.
“Want to be away from the fire?” Lady Charlotte teased.
The three of them laughed, and Dorothy waved a hand in front of her face, struggling to reduce her temperature.
“What do you feel for him?” Lady Charlotte asked as their laughter calmed down. “In all seriousness, without teasing, you cannot tell us you despise the Duke of Stotbury, for all your bickering. You look after him.”
“Constantly,” Lady Frederica chimed in.
“He ran after you that day at the picnic with guilt all over his face,” Lady Charlotte added.
“I just thought he made the jibe that day in order to get you away from Lord Chilmond anyway,” Lady Frederica said, tapping her chin in thought.
“You did?” Dorothy shifted on the rug, falling completely still.
“Have you not seen how he stares at you?” Lady Frederica asked, gesturing toward her.
“But he flirts with you.” Dorothy mimicked the gesture and pointed back at her.
“With no heart in it.” Lady Frederica shook her head. “And even when he talks at me, he’s looking at you across the room.”
Dorothy opened and closed her lips, searching for the right words. She feared Lady Frederica would be upset, but she still showed no sign of it.
“It’s not what you think,” Dorothy said eventually. “Yes, I like Stephen, perhaps a little more than I like to think I do.” Something lurched in her stomach when she thought of that near kiss they had shared. Surely by now, he had to know her heart wasn’t indifferent to him. “But we are such different people. If we ever courted, we’d have driven each other mad, I am sure of it. The other day, he told Lord Chilmond he would rather court a spider than me.”
“What’s that old saying?” Lady Charlotte drawled, reaching for another of the magazines. “The lady doth protest too much methinks. Well, perhaps on this occasion, the Duke does!”
The pair of them laughed again as Dorothy looked between them. She could not join in the laughter, as she was thinking too much of the way Lady Charlotte had described being in love.
“Like a pull. Someone’s company you do not want to be without, even when they infuriate you. Rather like an addiction.”
* * *
Stephen wandered through the corridors the next morning.
