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Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

A lexander had been watching Elizabeth closely for days now, a gnawing worry building inside him with every passing moment. Something had shifted in her—he could feel it. There was a distance between them, one he couldn't quite place. She regarded him curiously at times, as though she had something on her mind, yet every time she gained his attention, she dismissed it. She would start to speak, only to stop, offering nothing but a quiet, "It's nothing."

But it wasn't nothing. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her smiles never quite reached them. Something was troubling her, and she wasn't telling him. That, more than anything, unsettled him.

As they arrived at the ball that evening, his concern only deepened. Elizabeth looked radiant, her dress a soft ivory that contrasted beautifully with the dark, gleaming curls that framed her face. She moved with her usual grace, greeting the guests with poise, but Alexander couldn't shake the feeling that she was... distant. Present, but not really there .

Determined to address it, he asked her to dance. As they moved together on the floor, the music swelling around them, Alexander used the closeness to press her gently for answers.

"You've been quiet of late," he said, his tone low and careful. He didn't want to startle her, but his concern was palpable. "Is something troubling you?"

Elizabeth glanced up at him, her expression soft but guarded. "No, nothing's the matter, Alex," she replied, offering a polite smile.

But Alexander wasn't convinced. She had been saying that too often lately, and each time it felt less and less believable. "You've seemed... distant," he pressed. "If something is wrong, you can tell me."

She smiled again, though this time it was thinner, as if she were trying too hard to reassure him. "All is well. Truly."

The music swirled around them, the violins filling the air with a melody that should have been soothing, but Alexander found little comfort in it. He twirled her gently, guiding her across the floor with practiced ease, but in the pit of his stomach, the unease remained.

After their dance, Percy approached them, his usual grin plastered on his face. "May I have this dance, Your Grace?" he asked, extending his hand toward Elizabeth.

Alexander hesitated for a moment, a brief flicker of something— what exactly, he wasn't sure—tugging at him. But then he recalled the night before, at the dinner party. He had seen Elizabeth with Percy, smiling as they stood together by the entrance. She had been lighthearted with his brother, something she had not been with him. A slight discomfort stirred in him now, but he quickly dismissed it. It was irrational to feel uneasy about such a thing.

He gave a small nod, handing Elizabeth to his brother. "Of course."

As Percy led her away, Alexander found himself unable to take his eyes off them. There was something about the way they moved together, the way they seemed to fall so easily into conversation. Elizabeth, who had been so reserved with him, appeared... different with Percy. Livelier. Happier, even.

A soft laugh escaped her lips as Percy said something, and it was a sound Alexander hadn't heard from her in days—weeks, even. It took him by surprise, the way she laughed so freely in his brother's presence. And as he watched them, a thought struck him with unsettling clarity.

Had the scandal been for a reason?

The question made his stomach turn. He had never truly believed the rumors, dismissing them as idle gossip. But seeing Elizabeth now—laughing, smiling, so at ease with Percy—it made him wonder. What if there was more to the scandal than he had allowed himself to consider? What if Percy... desired her? What if Elizabeth would have been happier had she married his brother instead?

The thought gnawed at him, bitter and sharp. His gaze followed them as they moved across the dance floor, Percy speaking animatedly, Elizabeth laughing at whatever he was saying. Something harsh and unpleasant rose in Alexander's throat, tightening with every passing moment. His chest felt heavy, constricted, as though a weight was pressing down on him, threatening to choke him.

"What do we have here?" a voice interrupted his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

He turned to find Georgianna standing beside him, her gaze following his to the dance floor. A knowing smile played on her lips as she watched Elizabeth and Percy, her expression one of satisfaction.

"What a lovely reunion I see," she commented, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

Alexander didn't respond, his eyes still fixed on his wife and brother. Percy looked utterly animated, his gestures lively as he spoke, while Elizabeth's face was lit with a brightness Alexander hadn't seen in her for some time. She giggled—actually giggled —as Percy twirled her gracefully.

"They look quite comfortable and content, don't you think, Alexander?" Georgianna continued, her voice soft but tinted with something darker.

Alexander clenched his jaw, his heart pounding uncomfortably. He had no words, his thoughts too clouded by the sight before him.

"My, too comfortable, one might say," Georgianna added, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "So much so that it brings into question whether or not those rumors in Town are indeed true... about the Duchess and Lord Percy."

Her words hit him like a blow, and though Alexander had long since learned to disregard Georgianna's venom, something about what she said lodged deep inside him. Were others seeing what he was seeing now? Had the guests at the ball noticed the ease with which Elizabeth and Percy moved together, the undeniable connection that seemed to flicker between them?

As the dance ended and Percy led Elizabeth off the floor, Alexander's eyes followed them, unwavering and pained. He could feel something sour and bitter rise within him, something that made his chest tighten painfully. Jealousy. And it wasn't just jealousy—it was the fear that perhaps, just perhaps, the rumors had held a grain of truth.

What if he had been blind all along?

Alexander felt his hands ball into fists beside him. The thoughts running through his mind were already hard enough to bear without Georgianna adding her venomous voice to the mix. It was as though she could sense his unease, could taste the bitterness of his jealousy, and she relished in it. He turned to her, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Is there a particular reason you insist on inserting yourself where you do not belong, Countess?" His tone was sharp, harsher than he intended, but he didn't care. He had no patience for her tonight.

Georgianna arched a brow, affronted, but her expression remained smug. "I merely comment on what I see, Alexander. After all, what are we to think when your wife and your brother seem so... acquainted? Surely, you cannot fault me for stating the obvious."

"Perhaps if you spent less time speculating and more time minding your own affairs, you might find your company more welcome," Alexander snapped.

Georgianna's smile tightened, her eyes flashing with irritation. But rather than back down, she leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It is not my fault, dear Alexander, that others notice what you refuse to see."

Before he could fire back another retort, the music came to an end, and Alexander felt a wave of relief wash over him. Elizabeth looked up from the dance floor, her gaze meeting his briefly before flicking to Georgianna at his side. He gave her a small, knowing smile, expecting her to come to his rescue, to extricate him from the Countess as she had done before. But instead, Elizabeth's expression remained unreadable, and to his surprise, she turned away. She walked toward her sisters by the edge of the dance floor, leaving him standing there, the smile fading from his lips.

Something sank in his chest, heavy and cold.

Georgianna, ever perceptive, noticed the exchange and let out a quiet, mocking laugh. "Ah, it seems even your wife has tired of you, Alexander," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy.

Alexander's jaw clenched, his temper flaring once more. "If only I could say the same about you, Countess," he replied coldly, leaving her standing there with a miffed expression as he turned on his heel.

He made his way to Elizabeth, his insides twisting with a storm of emotions he couldn't name. There was a burning desire for answers, an anger he couldn't control, and beneath it all, a gnawing fear that he didn't dare acknowledge. The distance she had placed between them lately, the closeness with Percy—it all clawed at him, making him feel off balance, uncertain. And he hated it.

When he reached her, she was engaged in conversation with her aunt and sisters, her face calm, composed, as though nothing were amiss. But Alexander couldn't wait any longer.

"It is time we take our leave," he said politely to the group, but there was an edge to his tone, a barely concealed urgency.

Elizabeth turned to him, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Now?"

"I'm afraid Liz and I have other plans later tonight and must cut our stay short," he lied smoothly, not giving her a chance to object.

Her aunt, ever the picture of propriety, smiled warmly. "Oh, you need not apologize, Your Grace. There is nothing more important than time well spent between a man and his wife. Go on then, Lizzy. We will see you soon."

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, glancing between her family and Alexander, clearly torn. But her aunt's urging left her little choice, and with a reluctant nod, she bid them goodnight and followed him to the waiting carriage.

The ride back to the estate was tense, the silence thick and oppressive. Elizabeth sat across from him, her confusion and irritation clear in the way her eyes darted toward him, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Several times she opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again, as if waiting for him to explain.

Finally, she couldn't hold back any longer.

"Why did we leave so early?" she asked. "What was so urgent that we had to abandon the ball?"

Alexander's jaw clenched, his thoughts swirling with the memory of her laughter with Percy, the ease with which they had moved together on the dance floor. He didn't trust himself to speak, knowing that if he did, he might say something he couldn't take back. So he remained silent.

Elizabeth's irritation grew. "Am I talking to a wall, Alex? What is going on?"

When they arrived at the estate, she followed him into his study, her frustration evident in the quickness of her steps. "Are you unwell? Talk to me, for God's sake."

Alexander turned sharply to face her, the tension that had been simmering in him now boiling over. " Have you been talking to me these past days, Liz?" he shot back, his voice harsher than he intended. "You've been distant, dismissive—what am I to make of that?"

"This doesn't answer why you cut our time at the ball short," she retorted, ignoring his accusation.

"Oh, my apologies," Alexander said, his words dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't realize you were enjoying yourself so much at the ball. You seemed quite morose during our dance. What changed? Did Percy lift your spirits suddenly?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened, shock flashing across her face at his insinuation. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're not giving me answers, Elizabeth," he pressed, his voice sharp with frustration. "What is going on with you?"

"You speak of answers?" she said, her voice rising as she bristled at his words. "Tell me, Alexander. Have I gotten my own answers regarding your true relationship with Georgianna?"

His anger flared at the mention of the widow. "Georgianna? You have the audacity to question me about her when all I've been doing is staving off her advances?"

Elizabeth's gaze didn't falter, her eyes burning with an emotion he hadn't seen in her before—hurt. "I saw you with her at the dinner party. I saw you with her tonight. What am I supposed to think?"

Alexander's chest tightened, his jealousy clouding his reason. "Do you regret marrying me, Elizabeth?" The question spilled from his lips before he could stop it. "Would you have preferred to marry Percy instead?"

Elizabeth recoiled, her face paling with disbelief. "How dare you?" Her voice trembled, but it was thick with anger. "Where is all of this coming from, Alexander? Why are you saying these things?"

"I've simply drawn my conclusions from what you've made quite too obvious to me, Liz," he spat, his voice cold, though the sight of her pained expression twisted something inside him.

For a moment, she stared at him, hurt and anger swirling in her eyes. Then, her face hardened, her expression closing off. "Then I shall leave you to further reflect on these conclusions of yours, Your Grace," she said quietly, her voice icy as she turned and walked out, closing the door firmly behind her.

Alexander stood there, the sound of the door clicking shut echoing in the silence. His chest heaved with the remnants of his anger, but as the moments stretched on, the weight of what he had said—what he had done—sank in. His hands curled into fists, and before he could stop himself, he drove one squarely into the desk, the sharp pain radiating through his knuckles.

"What have I done?" he muttered under his breath, the words a hollow echo in the empty room.

He had let his jealousy get the better of him. He had hurt her, deeply, and he had no one to blame but himself.

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