He ventured over to the bookshelf, leaning against it. Elaine lamented the sudden distance even though she quite admired the duke’s posture and physique. “I share your sentiment. There are moments when the demands of society become overwhelming, and I, too, find refuge in the pages of a book.”
Elaine’s heart warmed at that. “What sorts of stories do you enjoy?”
“Anything with depth,” he replied, his gaze drifting to the shelves. “I have a particular fondness for the classics—those that explore the human condition. I suppose they remind me that our struggles are often universal.”
“Ah, yes! I love those as well,” she said, enthusiasm evident in her voice. She forgot about her book as she stood to face him. “There is something comforting in knowing others have faced similar trials. It is as if we’re connected through time and experience.”
He nodded, a smile forming on his lips. “Precisely. Literature has a unique way of binding us together, doesn’t it? When I read, I often feel as though I am conversing with the author. As if they understand me.”
Elaine leaned forward, intrigued. “And what do you think they would say about our current lives, filled with soirées and societal expectations?”
He chuckled softly. “Perhaps they would remind us of the importance of authenticity. That we should not live for appearances but to experience life to its fullest.”
“My, it sounds as if you should put such words to paper, Your Grace. It feels as if I am hearing the words of an inner author.”
The duke chuckled. “I shall consider it if you do one thing for me.”
“What is that?”
“Call me Michael, so that I may call you Elaine.”
Elaine’s heart thudded against her chest. “Very well, Michael. I look forward to reading your first manuscript.”
“You shall be the first,” he assured her with a grin. “Pray tell, what other pursuits do you find enjoyable, Elaine?”
Hearing her voice on his lips filled her with something she couldn’t name. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that they were alone, that they were tempting scandal by daring to converse like this without a proper chaperone. Elaine knew couldn’t risk ruining her chances of finding a husband. But, despite the warning thoughts in the back of her mind, she stayed right where she was.
“I also enjoy embroidery and playing the pianoforte, as you already know,” she answered. “Both allow me to find escape from my reality.”
He raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Why would you need to find escape?”
“My life has become a pitiful thing, Michael,” she admitted with a sad smile. “But with my embroidery, I am creating something beautiful with my own hands. It calms me and fills me with satisfaction when I complete one. And when I play the pianoforte, it’s as if the music carries me away. Each note is an escape, a way to express what I cannot say aloud.”
Michael regarded her thoughtfully as if seeing her for the first time. “You are far more complex than I imagined, Elaine.”
“Thank you, Michael,” she replied, her heart fluttering at his words. “And I appreciate your understanding. I hope I have not ruined your chance for respite by showing you how pitiful I am.”
“Pitiful?” His gaze bore into hers, intense and sincere, as he spoke with a quiet conviction. He moved away from the bookshelf, bridging the gap between them. “I don’t find you pitiful, Elaine. I find you… authentic. You are nothing like what I thought you would be and I do not know what to make of it.”
Her breath caught at the weight of his words. There was an honesty in his tone that made her heart race, and she felt the warmth of his presence wrapping around her like a gentle embrace. She opened her mouth to respond but the words faltered when his gaze flickered down to her lips, lingering there for a moment that threatened to set her on fire.
In that heartbeat, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them. She could feel the pull between them, a magnetic force that urged her to close the distance.
Was he contemplating kissing her? Would she let him? The very thought sent shivers down her spine.
A resoundingyesechoed in her mind right before Michael’s eyes flicked back to hers. He drew back slightly, breaking the moment. He ran a hand down his face, suddenly agitated, as if he was trying to compose himself.
Elaine blinked rapidly, also trying to regain her composure as her heart pounded in her chest, echoing the tension between them. Was she mad? How could she consider letting the duke kiss her when she was meant to be focused on more important things, like saving her family? She felt a mix of disappointment and relief wash over her.
“We should return,” she murmured softly. “Before we invite scandal upon ourselves.”
Michael smiled ruefully. “I doubt anyone else would be thinking of going to a parlour to escape the festivities.”
“It is always a possibility,” she insisted.
He nodded, but the air still crackled with what could have been. For a moment longer, they held each other's gaze. Elaine allowed herself to contemplate what could have happened if he had stepped a little closer. If he had taken her cheek in his palm and pressed his lips against hers. If she had given in to the desire simmering deep within her bones.
“You should go first,” he told her. “So that we do not arouse suspicion.
