Earlier than he intended, Alex found himself awake after the ball. Yesterday's irritability had carried over into the new day. To avoid his mother's expected inquiries, he was determined to slip silently from his bed, fetch something from the kitchen, and then ride his beloved Soul.
Tomorrow was the Duke's riding lesson — an appointment that should have taken place a week ago, but which Alex had postponed, referring to his "unwell" condition.
He wasn't certain whether to mention illness once more to postpone the lesson again or to find another excuse. The Duke himself had remained silent regarding the matter — perhaps due to Alex's avoidance at the ball, or because the Duke had been too engaged with other matters.
Determined to cast aside such troubling thoughts, Alex saddled Soul and set off into the fresh morning air.
He returned late in the evening, the sky darkened and stars began to peek through. His mother waited for him quietly in the drawing room.
— "Alex, where have you been all day?"
— "Riding, Mother."
Lady Carlston only nodded with concern and remained silent.
— "A letter arrived for you today," she said gently.
Young Lord's heart quickened despite himself. Hastening upstairs, he found the letter and a box waiting by his bedside.
Alex's hands trembled as he opened the box. He could hardly believe his eyes. Despite all the thoughts and decisions he had wrestled with throughout the day, he did not dare postpone the scheduled lesson again. He wrote a brief note.
Do not forget the lesson.
Then he went downstairs to ask the butler to send the note early the next morning.
***
— "Your gift is outrageously improper." said Alex with rose cheeks
The Duke turned his head while seated upon Waterlily. Alex furrowed his brows, yet the joy at such a gift struggled to break free, lifting the corners of his mouth.
— "Paganini's études has only just set out on its tour with Franz Liszt itself, yet you send me such a costly gift. I must say, your generosity puts me in an awkward position."
Alex could no longer frown; he looked at the Duke with a bashful smile.
— "I do not know how I might ever repay you for this."
The Duke smirked.
— "I am glad you've brought up the matter, Young Lord. I confess, I did not do this out of mere generosity."
Alex tensed, a flicker of apprehension crossed his face.
— "In return, I wish to hear those compositions performed by you."
Alex was stunned. The Duke laughed heartily, then suddenly urged Waterlily forward, breaking into a gallop.
The Young Lord watched him for a moment as he rode away, then urged Soul forward with a smile.
***
Another ball held little novelty for Alex now. What once stirred expectancy now blended into an obligation with a touch of boredom.
The Young Lord arrived with a heart full of controversial sentiments. Lately, his emotions swung like a pendulum — one moment he felt joy of the Duke's company, the next he was seized by unease he could not quite explain.
Their last meeting — when Alex had "repaid" his debt by letting the Duke hear his rendition of Grandes Études de Paganini — had gone remarkably well. For a brief time, things had felt simple again. And yet, tonight, the familiar sight of Blackthorn across the ballroom with a certain lady stirred a strange discomfort.
The Young Lord neither understood the reason for these shifts nor tried to resist them; he merely allowed the moment to guide him, carried back and forth like a boy on a swing.
— "Lord Carlston, a pleasure as always," the Duke said, stepping closer.
But after exchanging a few polite words with the Duke, Alex's gaze drifted past him — and landed on the lady just behind.
— "Your Grace, I believe the lady behind you awaits your next dance. I should not wish to distract you from your evening's pleasures."
Without waiting for a reply, Alex inclined his head in a formal bow and withdrew into the crowd.
Young Lord's attention was soon claimed by Lady Elizabeth. He greeted her with a courteous bow, and soon they were dancing like a well-matched pair.
After the dance, Lady Elizabeth excused herself, saying she wished for some fresh air and had gone off with one of her friends. Alex, grateful for the brief reprieve, withdrew to a quieter corner near the refreshments table, sipping a glass of water and finding solace in the tender embrace of the music's flow.
— "Young Lord Carlston," came a sudden unfamiliar voice. "You and my daughter have become quite the admired dance pair this season."
Alex turned and met Lady Osbourne's gaze with a courteous bow.
— "Thank you, Lady Osbourne."
— "It is truly a delight to see you show such tenderness and attention to my dear Elizabeth. She has blossomed like a rose under your warm light."
Alex felt increasingly uncomfortable under the continued flattery. He found nothing better to do than offer an awkward smile.
— "One might wonder what your true intentions are."
Alex felt a pang of anxiety. He had not anticipated such directness; it caught him off guard. Moreover, in that instant, the Young Lord seemed to realize how his attention toward Lady Elizabeth might appear to others. He had been showing her his favor as if drifting with the current, making no conscious choice, but rather as though guided by some unseen hand.
— "My lady," he replied with a forced smile, "your words honour me deeply. Lady Elizabeth's grace and charm are truly beyond compare. I assure you that my intentions are nothing but respectful. However, the time for any decision, I hope, will come in its due time."
Lady Osbourne's eyes and smile did not waver. She intended to continue her siege.
— "Time, My Lord, waits for no one. It is said that the heart's true desire reveals itself best at the very beginning."
Alex seemed to have exhausted all his manners and found himself trapped. But he was saved by Lady Carlston, who timely joined the conversation and asked to escort her outside for some fresh air.
As he stepped into the cool night air, accompanied by his mother's quiet presence, Alex's heart swelled with regret over the choices he had made of late. To his surprise and gratitude, that evening his mother did not ask him a single question.