When a Duke Says I Do by Jane Goodger

I do not belong in a ballroom with your guests? Besides, I... I cannot attend such public events. Do not ask it of me, for I will only disappoint you.”
    “No doubt you and Monsieur already have another commission,” Elsie said, trying to keep her tone neutral, as if the thought of Alexander leaving, of him not being with her for her ball, did not crush her.
    “We do.”
    Elsie did not want to think on it. It was still so far away, weeks and weeks before her ball, before the mural would be completed. “Let’s walk,” she said with forced cheerfulness.
    To her delight and relief, Alexander gave her a small bow then presented his arm for her to take. “I am at your command,” he said gallantly.
    They walked down the shallow steps to the lawn, where dew immediately darkened her silk slippers. The night air was filled with the thick sound of crickets and the distant croaking of bullfrogs. A nightingale, its silhouette plainly visible atop an oak sapling, sang incessantly from its perch. Such wonderful summer sounds reminded Elsie painfully of the times Christine and she would sneak out of their rooms and into the summer night.
    “I love walking about at night,” Elsie said wistfully. “But I must confess that I have a slight fear of being alone outside at night in the dark. I’m always expecting a wolf to come bounding out and gobble me up.”
    Alexander muttered something under his breath.
    “Beg pardon?” Elsie said, suspecting he’d said something about how it was even more dangerous to be walking about with him.
    “I said something to the effect that you’re in no danger from wolves,” he said, sounding as if he were trying not to laugh. “There hasn’t been a wolf in Britain in more than one hundred years.”
    Elsie narrowed her eyes. “That is not what you said, sir.”
    Alexander chuckled. “Smart girl.”
    “Hmph.” Elsie pretended to pout for perhaps ten seconds, before tugging on his arm and leading him to a large tree with odd foliage sprouting on it. “Tell me about your time in the asylum.”
    “I don’t know why you insist on making me relive my unfortunate past,” he said lightly. “It’s rather heartless of you.”
    “Indulge me, please. I am interested, truly. You are, in fact, the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”
    “You have led a sheltered life to be sure.”
    Elsie ignored his quip, even as she was pleased by it. “You’ve been locked in an asylum, for goodness sakes. Not many people can say that, you know.”
    Alexander shook his head, but he was smiling so Elsie knew he was not bothered by her demands. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you if you’ve had visions of Bedlam in that imaginative head of yours. It was nothing like that. In fact, it was a private institution that presented itself as a home for children who were deemed untrainable.” He told her his story, his words measured and dispassionate, ending with his being introduced to Monsieur Desmarais.
    Though it was not a tragic story, at least not to his thinking, by the time he finished, Elsie had tears running down her face.
    “Oh, Alexander,” she said, and threw herself into his arms, very nearly sobbing out a grief he didn’t understand.
    “Darling, please don’t cry for me. It wasn’t a terrible experience at all. And it allowed me to find Monsieur, something for which I am grateful.”
    She looked up at him, clearly distressed. “But you were just a child and were abandoned and you’d done nothing wrong. Your father is monstrous and if I ever chance to meet him I shall tell him so.”
    “No doubt you already have met him,” Alexander said, “and probably found him charming.”
    “Never. I wish you would tell me who he is,” she said, moving out of his embrace.
    Alexander smiled down at her. “So you could throttle him, no doubt.”
    “It does sound silly when you say it aloud. I would give him the cut direct.”
    “Which, no doubt, would have little or no effect on