Page 126 of Married to a Frozen Duke
"That was actually rather endearing."
"Endearing?" He stared at her. "I was on the floor, defeated by footwear."
"You were human. Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to see you be genuinely, imperfectly human?"
She touched his face gently, and he found himself leaning into her palm despite his mortification.
"I meant it all," he said quietly, meeting her eyes despite the difficulty. "Everything I said. The brandy just made it easier to say."
"I know. I meant what I said too."
"The part where you called me impossible and overly formal?"
"The part where I said I was falling in love with you."
They looked at each other for a long moment, the morning light making her eyes appear more gold than brown, and Alexander thought about kissing her but wasn't sure if that was allowed now, in the sober light of day.
She solved the problem by leaning in and kissing him softly, just a brief press of lips that somehow managed to convey affection and amusement and promise all at once.
"There," she said, pulling back. "Now drink your tea and stop hiding. We have breakfast to attend, and the servants are already gossiping about finding us both disheveled in the library last night."
"They found us?" Horror crept into his voice.
"Apparently Mrs. Morrison went to check the fires and saw us on the sofa. She's been smiling all morning, which is frankly more terrifying than her usual disapproval."
Alexander groaned, but he did drink his tea, and eventually he managed to dress and make his way downstairs, where breakfast proved to be less awful than anticipated. They sat closer than usual, Ophelia's hand occasionally touching his on the table, and if the footmen noticed and smiled, well, Alexander was too focused on his lingering headache to care overly much.
They were just finishing when James appeared with the morning post, including a thick letter addressed to Ophelia in what looked like her mother's hand.
"From home," Ophelia said, opening it eagerly. As she read, her expression shifted from pleasure to concern to something like frustration. "Oh dear."
"What is it?"
"My mother writes that Charles and Edward are miserable. They've been fighting constantly since they returned, apparently over who was more at fault for the vase incident. Robert is threatening to come check on me himself, convinced you're keeping me prisoner. And the news of the village incident has reached them, somewhat garbled. They seem to think you threw Lord Harrington into a fountain."
"I should have," Alexander muttered. "It would have been satisfying."
"She says Father is worried sick, and even Henry has expressed concern, which for Henry means he wrote an entire paragraph about the situation instead of just a sardonic comment."
She set the letter down, looking troubled. "I need to write to them, let them know I'm well. That we're well."
"Of course. Write whatever you like."
"I want to invite them to visit."
Alexander's tea cup stopped halfway to his mouth. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I want to invite my brothers to visit. To see that we're happy, that things have changed."
"The brothers who destroyed priceless artifacts and insulted me repeatedly in my own home? Those brothers?"
"The brothers who love me and were trying to protect me from what they saw as an unhappy situation. Yes, those brothers."
"Absolutely not."
"Alexander..."
"They called me a statue! Edward suggested I had no feelings! Charles played catch with a three-hundred-year-old celestial sphere!"
