“I don’t know who you are talking about,” Charlotte replied. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink without the aid of her pinching nails.
Chelsea giggled. “The duke. Alexander.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes in the most exaggerated way she could muster. “Honestly, Chelsea. You do say the strangest things.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice it when we were out today. There is something between you, and you know it.”
It was true that they’d had a lovely day. Charlotte hadn’t expected it. When Chelsea invited the gentlemen, Charlotte’s gut reaction had been one of disappointment. But actually, the foursome got on remarkably well, and Charlotte had found she enjoyed herself.
She had intentionally steered herself away from the duke, though. She couldn’t very well spend time with him, not when he caused a fluttering of feeling throughout her entire body. It was not merely a desire to be near him but also an almost irresistible desire to touch him. The image of him as he was in her dreams, bare and wet, returned to her often. And so, talking with Stewart had been the safer option.
That didn’t mean she didn’t glance over at him often though. She sneaked a look at the sharp angle of his jaw and the way his dark hair curled at the nape of his neck, just below his hat. She watched him stride across the cobbles, the fabric of his trousers tightening around his buttocks as he went.
“You’re right,” she said with a sigh, turning away from the looking glass. “I find the man endlessly infuriating. We just seem to clash.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Chelsea to find her friend smirking at her. She frowned, then set about putting on her shoes ready for dinner.
“Clash indeed,” Chelsea said, still smirking.
“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked, looking up at her from the couch, her finger still slid into the back of her shoe. “And why are you looking at me like that?”
Chelsea giggled and joined her friend on the couch. “Mother once told me that there is a very fine line between tension and passion. Perhaps yourclashingmeans more than you realize.”
Charlotte once again rolled her eyes. She sat up straight and eyed Chelsea from beneath her brow. “Your mother also told you the sandman sprinkled dust into your eyes to help you sleep.”
Chelsea let out a mock gasp, her hand to her chest. “You mean to say he doesn’t?”
“No,” Charlotte replied with a giggle. “Just as any tension between the duke and I is certainly no precursor to passion.”
She stood up, preparing to descend for dinner.
“You may call him Alexander,” Chelsea said as she, too, got to her feet. “He said as much. And we’re all friends now. I’d wager you and he will be more than friends eventually.”
Charlotte put her nose into the air. “I would far rather maintain a little formality, thank you very much.”
“Because, of course,” Chelsea added as they left the room, “your irritation absolutely could not mean anything but pure irritation itself.”
They moved down the corridor and started down the stairs to the entrance hall. “Just because you’re in love, Chelsea, it doesn’t mean everyone else is. Honestly, it’s like that’s all you can think about at the moment.”
“Perhaps not love,” Chelsea said. “But what of lust? We both know you feel it.”
“Of course I feel it. I am human. And there is no denying that a man as handsome as the duke would tickle any lady’s fancy. But my irritation is nothing to do with how he looks nor any secret desire that I harbor to be touched.”
Chelsea pursed her lips. She didn’t believe Charlotte at all, but there was nothing Charlotte could do about it.
“We’ll see,” she merely said in her singsong voice, then she skipped into the dining room.
Charlotte paused outside the door and sighed. She was glad to be there, supporting her friend. She only wished it was just the two of them. From inside, she heard laughter, and so, with a deep breath, she walked in.
“Did you get lost between the corridor and the dining room?” the duke said as soon as she entered.
Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek. It was as though this man was intentionally going out of his way to annoy her!
“No,” she snapped back. “I was simply hoping that you had.”
“All right now, children,” Chelsea said, looking up at Charlotte with a twinkle in her eye. “Shall we sit down and enjoy a meal? It is rare that we get to eat together—and without Mother, too.”
“Let’s,” the duke replied, rubbing his hands together at the sight of the feast in front of them.
