Instead, she reached out, placing her hand on the warm smooth fabric of his jacket where it hugged his arm, not knowing what to say to make this whole situation well again. She settled for a gentle and impassioned, “I have spent much of my life with fathers and sons. I know a good match when I see one. He loved you, Gavin. He was proud of you. And there is so much of him in you—so much of his strength, his humor, his character.”
Her touch seemed to pull him out of his daze, and he looked down at her slim, white hand, placing his own on hers before recapturing her gaze. One half of his mouth quirked in an attempt at a smile, and he spoke. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Gavin since the season began.” His breath exhaled on a little laugh. “I thought perhaps you’d forgotten my given name.”
She tried to ignore the feelings coursing through her at his touch as she replied, “I’m just trying to get used to your being an earl. I have to keep reminding myself.”
“You’re not alone. I find I have to remind myself most days. And I assure you, I’d much prefer not to be Blackmoor.” His voice quieted. “What I wouldn’t give to be Gavin again.”
Alex searched for the right words. “I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you.” She paused, then pushed on. “In my opinion, I think you make an excellent earl…I always knew you would. And, more than that, I’m certain your father is very proud, wherever he is.”
He turned his head to look at her, but remained silent. An emotion she couldn’t define flashed in his eyes—something she’d never seen in them before. She continued, “And, even though you may not recognize him now, Gavin is still there. Still as strong as ever.”
His eyes darkened as he straightened and faced her. He moved his arm underneath her hand, twisting it and lacing her fingers through his own. She was keenly aware of the heat of his skin on hers, the intensity in his gaze. The moment stretched out between them and Alex had the feeling that something she did not fully understand was happening. She met his eyes and he stepped closer to her, leaving little room between them. As he looked down at her, a lock of his hair fell across his forehead. Her fingers itched to push it back from his face.
“You really believe that?”
“Every word.”
Her breath caught as he raised his free hand to her face, tipping it upward toward the light. The touch sent a strange feeling through her, something she’d never felt before this moment.
When he spoke, she could hear the surprise in his voice. “You make me want to believe it.” He was mere inches from her and their gazes were locked together.
And all of a sudden, she knew. He was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to. More than she could have imagined. Her breath caught as his gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and her whole body tensed as she watched him move closer. His lips were so close to her own that she could feel the light touch of his breath on her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed and she waited on tenterhooks…all her senses screaming, He’s going to kiss you!
Only, he didn’t.
Instead, just as Alex was sure she was feeling the beginnings of her first kiss, she heard his soft curse. Her eyes flew open as he jumped back from her, loosing her hand. She found herself rather dizzy from his quick movement and the instant loss of his warmth.
“We cannot do this.”
“We cannot?” The words came out soft and bewildered.
“No!” He stopped and raked his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath, looking anywhere but at her. She had no idea what to say or how to act—after all, it’s not every day one of your dearest friends nearly kisses you. So she stayed quiet.
He cleared his throat and spoke. “We are as good as family.” And that was that. “I should escort you back inside.”
She willed her voice to remain steady and was never so thankful as when her response came out sounding as though she experienced this particular situation most every day. “Of course. I shouldn’t like to miss any of the festivities.”
She ignored his offered arm and brushed past him toward the bright lights of the drawing room, leaving him to follow behind.
twelve
It’s all Alex’s fault. If it weren’t for her, we would be able to carry on as we always have without Mother making us do her bidding.” Kit looked across the table at Will, who nodded his head firmly in agreement and dealt the next hand of vingt-et-un, the card game they were playing.
Nick looked down at his cards with an air of superiority. “At least I have a legitimate reason to miss the Salisbury Ball. Mother can’t deny me the trip back to Oxford that’s been planned for weeks. The two of you are on your own!”
He flipped his cards, showing them with a confident flourish, and grimaced when he saw that he’d lost roundly to all three of the others.
Blackmoor, who occupied the fourth seat at the table, commented, “I should say that rather takes the sting off, doesn’t it, Kit? Will?”
The boys all laughed and continued their conversation as Will collected his winnings from the center of the table and began to shuffle the cards for another hand. Kit spoke next. “She can’t force us to go to the ball. We’re grown men, for Lord’s sake!”
Will cocked an eyebrow at his younger brother. “You don’t think she can force us? We are speaking of the same mother, correct? Small frame, enormous will?”
Kit sighed and leaned back in his chair, leveling his older brother with a stare. “How are we going to escape?”