Page 13 of The Beast’s Unwanted Duchess (Icy Dukes #1)

CHAPTER SEVEN

H er waist had not remained the same since the afternoon before.

Alice caressed her back for the umpteenth time that morning, feeling the same lingering warmth where Victor had touched her that had stolen her sleep.

She strolled through the garden that led to the orangery, thinking about her encounter with him the previous day.

His hand on her waist that caught her from falling over, the intensity of his gaze, and the way her heart raced in response to his breath on her skin.

She shook her head, trying to focus on the present, but her mind kept wandering back to that very moment.

It's nothing, Alice. Forget all about it.

Caressing her waist one more time, Alice stepped out of the garden and stood in front of the orangery, happy to see the workers already busy with their tasks. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to supervise, when she noticed Roberts approaching.

"Good morning, Your Grace," he greeted her with a respectful nod. "I trust your night was restful?"

"It was, Roberts," she lied. "What are you doing here if I may ask? We don’t want His Grace to get upset now. He requested that you stay by his side while he fixes his study."

"The duke sent me down here, Your Grace," he answered, gesturing toward the workers. "I am to oversee the construction of the orangery today."

Alice tilted her head to the side. "Why is that? Why did he change his mind?"

"I can’t say, Your Grace," he answered. "But he requests your presence in the dining room immediately. He knew you would come down here and he asked that I deliver the message when you do."

"So, he sent you down here, so that I go up to join him for breakfast?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Basically, he is taking away my excuse?" she mumbled.

"Very well," she said. "Let me know if anything arises."

With that, she turned around and made her way to the dining room.

She had no intention of giving in to Victor’s every demand, yet she recognized that with Roberts back, she might have some control over the situation.

Better still, it showed that he was somewhat reasonable.

It caused a smile to instinctively form on her face, but Alice quickly dismissed it.

There was nothing to be impressed by.

Alice entered the dining room and paused at the door.

Her eyes met Victor’s in an instant, and she inhaled sharply, strangely taken aback by his appearance.

The sight of him was strikingly different from what she had expected.

His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, where the scars crisscrossed the skin.

But instead of the familiar feeling of fear, an unexpected thrill coursed through her.

It was those very hands that had wrapped around her waist and prevented her from falling flat on the ground.

She noticed the way the sunlight caught the angles of his jaw and the shadows that danced across his features.

It was strange, but she no longer felt frightened.

Instead, a mix of curiosity and intrigue ignited within her.

There was something about his personality that he was hiding, and Alice was desperate to solve the mystery.

"Good morning, Your Grace," she greeted and curtsied. "You sent for me?"

"Sit," he said, holding her gaze.

Alice wanted to oblige instantly, but she stopped herself. "I typically don’t eat breakfast."

"Not anymore," he answered. "You do now. So, sit."

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension as Alice reluctantly settled into her chair, her heart starting to race.

Victor continued to eat, and she stole glances at him.

He seemed calm as he ate with the same cold demeanor he was known for.

Alice stared at him, hoping to see a flicker of the Victor who had accidentally touched her hand in the carriage two years ago or the Victor who had held her by the waist the day before.

"Are you going to stare at me all morning, or will you eat?" he asked, lifting his eyes. "Is there something on my face?"

Alice’s cheeks flushed. "No," she answered and lowered her head.

Victor set his fork down and leaned back slightly in his chair. His eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race.

"We will be attending the upcoming Arlington ball in a few days," he announced casually. "We received an invite. Do you have a suitable dress or would you require a visit to the modiste to get one?"

Alice set her fork down, too. "I have two years' worth of dress. I suppose they will do."

Victor simply nodded and returned to his meal, obviously choosing to ignore the sarcasm in her voice. After a moment, he added, "Roberts will be overseeing the construction of the orangery from now on. He will report to you directly. You shouldn’t have to concern yourself with the details."

Alice blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected announcement. "What?" she said, her mind racing. "I thought you needed him by your side?"

"Priorities," he answered simply. "I can get someone else. Plus, Roberts knows how to manage the staff effectively. It is what he does."

A wave of relief washed over Alice, and warmth spread in her chest. The thoughtfulness of his decision struck her.

Roberts had been with Victor for years, and deep down, she understood why he preferred to have Roberts by his side while he worked.

It was a matter of trust and effectiveness.

She had not expected him to give that up…

For her…

"Thank you," she said, the words slipping out before she could reconsider. "I appreciate that."

Victor looked up at her then, his gaze so intense that her pulse quickened in an unexpected rush. There it was again…the softness in his eyes.

"You don’t have to thank me," he answered.

"I do." She nodded. "You just did a nice thing for me."

Victor made to respond, but he swallowed and blinked repeatedly. Before Alice could say anything else, he stood up and strode toward the door, leaving her alone at the table.

Alice smiled to herself, sensing a shift in the air between them.