After their walk and a horse ride through the woods, they returned in time for supper. Afterwards, they went into the ballroom.
— "I promised Ophelia I would teach you, and I shall keep my word."
— "I only hope I am not as hopeless as she so fondly declares," the Duke jested.
They stood in the centre of the hall.
— "I observed you… at times. And it seemed to me you do not give yourself wholly to the dance," Alex said.
— "I will not dissemble — it is not my favourite pastime. Until recently, I had not danced with a lady for years. So yes, I have little experience."
— "To dance well, you must understand not only the gentleman's part, but the lady's also."
— "Is that your secret?" Nathan smiled.
— "Precisely. So imagine yourself the lady, and I shall show you how her partner must move, so that both may delight in the dance."
Alex's words sent a thrill down Nathan's spine.
— "I confess, I—"
— "Most likely, you shall dance the wedding waltz. Let us begin. Place your hand upon my shoulder, and the other — here." Alex extended his hand for him to take.
How am I to withstand him, when he gives himself so earnestly to this?
— "I shall lead, and count aloud. And…"
Alex led him carefully, counting the steps. Nathan stumbled once or twice at first, but the Young Lord continued calmly, as though nothing were amiss.
— "I begin to understand," Nathan murmured.
— "Good. A wedding waltz usually requires several pirouettes. For instance…"
In the dance, Alex spun him round, stood behind Nathan, one hand upon his waist near the stomach, the other upon his shoulder. But Alex was shorter; he ought to have seen clearly over his partner's shoulder, yet his height was insufficient. The Duke turned his head aside and noted the imperfect posture.
This is my chance.
He spun Alex, changed roles, and slipped into position behind him, fitting as though by nature, leaning slightly to whisper at his ear.
— "It seems I am the most diligent pupil, quick to learn," he murmured with a smile.
Alex froze, then shivered as his beloved's breath touched his ear, and Nathan's hand brushed softly over his waist. The boy pulled away hastily, turning to face him, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and longing.
— "You do not take these lessons seriously!" Alex protested, his cheeks crimson.
— "On the contrary, I take them very seriously. I merely judged myself ready to exchange roles."
Nathan stepped forward, took him firmly — one hand at his waist, the other at his hand — and began to waltz without taking his eyes from him. He did not do badly, but Alex noted he drifted too far to the right.
— "You are stepping too wide to the right."
— "Precisely," Nathan replied, steering them towards the edge of the hall.
Alex's back bumped against a small table by the wall. He instinctively set his hands upon it to steady himself.
— "What are you doing? Ophelia would not forgive such behaviour!" Alex said with feigned severity.
— "I do not doubt it. But I also doubt I shall ever dance with her in such a manner…" Nathan placed his hands upon Alex's, still resting on the table, and leaned closer with a smile.
The Young Lord understood Nathan's intent and froze in anticipation. His gaze softened, flitting from the Duke's eyes to his lips. Nathan claimed his mouth. He made no pretense of delicacy — his tongue pressed insistently between parted lips.
Alex had missed him desperately — especially these kisses, these very kisses. He surrendered willingly. Nathan's fingers traced the backs of his hands against the table, sending shivers through the Young Lord. Stepping closer, he slid between Alex's legs.
The Young Lord felt a too-familiar stirring, recalling that night at the ball, and blushed fiercely.
Nathan, eager to see his reaction, drew back and opened his eyes. The sight of Alex's flushed face, parted lips, breathless and trembling, struck him with a wave of desire. Yet he restrained himself, and with a languid smile asked:
— "Shall we continue our lesson?"
— "What?"
Nathan smirked.
— "Shall we continue our dance lesson? Or perhaps something else you would like to continue, my lord?"
Alex felt overcome with shame — he had quite forgotten the lesson itself after such intense sensations. He pushed lightly against the Duke, broke free, and made to flee.
But Nathan caught his hand, spun him back with firm insistence.
— "Perhaps you will share what plans you have for me?" His smile did not fade. He was unspeakably happy to see Alex so near his limit.
The Young Lord could not meet his gaze. He tore away again, but Nathan seized him from behind, whispering in his ear:
— "My intentions are no different from yours, I believe. You must not be ashamed of yours."
Alex burned as though scalded.
— "If you wish…" Nathan breathed, scarcely restraining himself, "…we may go upstairs. To my room."
Alex gasped for air and clasped the Duke's hand in trembling fingers unconsciously. He stood silent, unable to muster a reply to Nathan's proposition.
Standing behind him, the Duke gently took Alex by the chin, turned his face toward him, and placed a tender kiss upon his lips — chaste, without trespassing further.
When they parted, Nathan perceived that Alex, though perhaps intoxicated with passion, trembled faintly as well.
— "Alex, are you frightened by my suggestion? I beg you, tell me honestly. I have no desire to hasten matters if it frightens you. I am content with the course we take."
— "I…" Alex folded his arms across his chest, as though embracing himself, and turned his face away, unable to meet Nathan's eyes. "I do not understand what I am to expect…"
Ah, so that was the matter! Of course!
Nathan circled around the Young Lord, stood before him, placed his hands upon Alex's shoulders, and bent slightly to catch his gaze.
— "You need expect nothing from me but what you desire for yourself. Is there perhaps something you would wish for in particular?"
Alex lowered his gaze once more.
— "I do not… know."
— "Very well," Nathan straightened, retreating a few steps. "What do you say we lay this aside for now? It is nearly eight o'clock. We may each retire to our rooms, then meet again at nine to play some games before sleep."
— "All right," Alex stammered.
When the Young Lord entered his chamber and shut the door behind him, he exhaled loudly. His heart beat violently, and his breath seemed stolen away. He pressed his hand against his chest, clutching at his shirt as though to still the mad dance of his heart.
He was overwhelmed by a torrent of feelings — fear, for he knew not what was to come; shame, for he could not speak his desires aloud; and a longing that burned through him despite himself.
He recalled the nights past, when he buried his face in a pillow, overcome with thoughts of Nathan, his body trembling in secret torment — and this memory brought even more shame as he crouched.
By sheer will, Alex forced himself to make his way to the bath.
Nathan, meanwhile, paced his own chamber, hand pressed to his lips. He could not be certain whether he had pressed Alex against his will or not. Thus, he swore to himself to do nothing — nothing at all — unless Alex would speak his desire in words. He had never been with inexperienced partners and therefore could not know how best to behave. Then the Duke, too, sought the bath.
By nine o'clock, Alex sat in his room, waiting for the inevitable knock. His hands twisted the bedsheets, his mind wavering between fear and heated recollections of the masquerade. The knock came indeed. Alex startled and said, "Come in."
Nathan entered and, seeing the terror upon his beloved's face, regretted his earlier decision. He had thought to grant Alex solitude for reflection, yet it had only deepened his distress.
— "Alex." The Duke rushed to him, kneeling before where Alex sat on the bed. He laid his hand upon him and spoke with urgency, "Forgive me. I regret speaking so plainly of these matters. I swear to you—" Nathan placed his other hand upon his chest "—I swear my intentions may remain only in my mind for as long as you wish. You need not fear. If you prefer, I shall never again tease you nor make mention of it."
— "I want to play a game."
— "What?"
— "The one with questions…"
The Duke blinked in astonishment.
— "Very well," he said, and then recollected himself—realizing Alex had shown, at last, a will of his own. "Yes, of course. Certainly."
— "Shall we stay here, or go downstairs?" Nathan asked.
— "Here, if you please."
— "Then may I sit?" he gestured toward the chair by the writing desk.
— "Yes, of course."
Nathan drew the chair nearer, turning it toward Alex, and sat.
— "You may begin."
Alex hesitated, then asked softly:
— "What pastime do you most enjoy, out of all your pursuits?"
The Duke restrained a smile, knowing how precarious Alex's trust was. He gave the matter true thought.
— "Riding with you is dearest to me. After that—carpentry. In fact…"
He began to recount his recent projects, inviting Alex to join him again soon. The Young Lord brightened at once, his smile easing the tension in his face.
— "Your turn," the boy said.
— "What would you wish for as a gift?"
— "How can you ask such a question! I shall not tell you!"
Nathan laughed.
— "But why not? I sought no trickery — merely a harmless inquiry. Is it so bad of me?"
— "You—you would give it to me!"
— "That is the essence of a gift, is it not?" Nathan replied with a playful smile.
Alex clenched his fists in his lap, unwilling to yield but unwilling to lose the game either.
— "I wish for a small carved figure of an owl."
— "An owl?" Nathan could not restrain his laughter.
— "Why do you laugh? That is indeed what I desire! One day I shall gather the whole collection!"
— "You might have asked for anything."
— "And I have chosen a wooden owl — carved by your own hands."
The most adorable.