It was difficult, but Alice managed to snap out of it and clear her throat. "That bath was prepared for me. It’s mine. The wine, the warm tub, the scent...the book. Everything was prepared according to my instructions."
"And oddly, just how I like it," he said and straightened his back. "Plus, I got here first."
"You got here first?" she stuttered, unable to believe her ears. "It’s not meant for you. My goodness, this entire bathroom isn’t meant for you; it is mine. I thought you hated the changes I was making to the estate?"
"This particular one I like," he said. "This particular one...we’ll share."
"Share? I’m not sharing," she argued. "At least not right now. I came here for a bath, and I will have my bath. If anyone should leave, it should be you, Your Grace."
"Think of it as a favor to me, Alice," he said, his tone softer but no less insistent. "You’ve done an exceptional job with this space and it would be nice to enjoy it."
The compliment caught her off guard. Alice looked down, feeling a flush creeping up her neck as she eased her shoulders. She had poured so much into making the room perfect. It felt good to hear him actually notice and praise it, making it seem harder to refuse.
Victor crossed his arms. "And miss the view from here?" he replied, with a nod to the window. "No, I’d like to appreciate the work you’ve done while I relax."
Alice felt her frustration and fluster collide. She wanted to argue, but a small part of her couldn’t deny a sense of satisfaction from his persistence and the unexpected praise.
"You could wait until tomorrow," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "Or perhaps I could ask Roberts to create the same setup somewhere else."
"What about the view?" he questioned. "The view is key."
"You are utterly impossible," she said, throwing her hands up.
Deep down, though, she’d already decided to give in the moment he’d complimented her work. But she didn’t want him to know how much his words had affected her. That his simple approval had, in some small way, managed to override her frustration.
"The water’s getting cold, Alice," he said, crossing his arms.
Alice could swear she saw a smile gently tugged at his lips, but it disappeared before she could register it.
Her pulse quickened as he continued to look at her, his calm, self-assured stance making her feel unsteady. Her cheeks burned, and she could feel the warmth rising, creeping from her neck to her face, betraying the calm she was struggling to project. She tried to steady herself, tried to seem unbothered, but her heart raced. Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to calm down, to not let him see that his words had gotten to her.
Straightening her shoulders, she managed a steady voice. "Fine, Your Grace," she said, surprising herself with her response. "You can have it… just this once. I will let it go because of your kindness to me, letting Roberts oversee the staff at the orangery."
"You are so kind, Alice," he said. "Now, if you will excuse me..."
Her lips parted in a bid to retort, but she caught herself. With a reluctant sigh and a flash of narrowed eyes, Alice turned around sharply, refusing to let him get to her. She gathered her gown and strode out of the bathroom, her footsteps brisk down the hall. She needed air, distance, anything to shake the flustered energy lingering from his presence.
As she reached the end of the corridor, she paused, steadying herself with a hand against the wall. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, and she took a deep breath, willing the heat in her cheeks to subside so she could at least think straight.
"The nerve of him," she whispered to herself.
But as much as she hated to admit it, Victor was beginning to have an effect on her—a troubling one she couldn’t shake off. Every time she talked to him, something changed. He left her off-balance every time, and thoughts of him seemed to linger just a bit longer.
She had no idea what to make of it.
"So, you read?"
Alice shifted in her chair and tilted her head sideways, looking at Victor as if reassessing him. After their charged encounter in her bathroom the previous day, she was unsure if he was genuinely interested in her answer or merely attempting to tease her. His question was simple, casual even, but something in his tone hinted at candid curiosity. She hadn’t expected him to inquire, much less about her reading habits.
"Do you really want to know?" she questioned. They were seated in the dining room for breakfast that morning. Alice wasn’t really hungry, but she wasn’t ready to deal with Victor’s frustration if she declined.
"I asked, did I not?" he retorted, keeping his eyes on his plate. "In the bathroom yesterday...your maid left a book with the glass of wine."
"Oh," she said, playing with her food. "Did you enjoy reading the book, and sipping my wine, Your Grace?"
"Yes," he answered plainly.
Alice lifted her head in surprise as her fork hovered over her plate. She hadn’t expected such an unapologetic response, and his calm confidence threw her off guard. She looked down,carefully poking at her food, unsure how to respond. It seemed as though Victor was immune to her teasing, whereas the opposite was the case with her.
