Page 91 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
“Anyway, they do not even seem to be in the least attracted to each other,” Dahlia said thoughtfully. “Have you noticed how they seem to dislike each other?”
Peter actually thought that Matteo paid her friend too much unnecessary attention but did not say so.
Without waiting for Peter’s answer, Dahliah continued, “But what I also noticed is, despite them not liking each other, they seem to always beplanningthings together.” She eyed him; the candlelight could not hide the telltale flush on her cheeks.
Peter had hoped that Dahlia would not notice what he himself had; that Matteo and Helena were scheming to bring them together. Embarrassed, he sighed.
“I apologize for my friend. He seems to consider himself Cupid.”
“And I apologize for Helena as well. Such silliness, they seem to think us a couple of youths with no mind of our own.” She laughed, embarrassment tinting her cheeks.
They caught each other’s eye and just as quickly, looked away.
“Silly,” Dahlia said again.
“Yes, silly,” Matteo repeated.
Covertly, he studied her face; the blush was still there. She turned her head, and their gazes met again, but this time neither of them faltered.
Could she…? Perhaps…
He felt his heart beat heavily in his chest.
They turned down the corridor that led to each of their chambers. The master’s chambers would be reached first; the next door was the mistress’ chambers.
Peter, looking at her empty hand, noted that Dahlia had left her candle in the kitchen, and by the look on her face that she had just realized the same.
“I shall walk you to your room,” he said quietly.
“Thank you,” she smiled, “the food has made me slow tonight, I think.”
When they reached her door, Peter opened the door for her. Darkness and cold greeted them. Biddy had closed the drapes when she had left her mistress for the night. The fire, for some reason, had gone out.
“What has happened to the fire?” Dahlia said, trying to look through the darkness.
“Allow me to help,” Peter said.
Peter was very conscious of the fact that he entered Dahlia’s chambers for the first time since they had arrived at the castle.
Setting the candle on her desk, Peter found another one and lit it. Then he went to the fireplace to check what had caused the fire to extinguish.
Kneeling down, Peter moved the candle closer to the hearth. He took the poker and stoked the partially burned wood. He shook his head.
“This wood is unseasoned.”
He got up and looked at the stack of wood beside the fireplace. It was unseasoned as well. Shaking his head, he moved the poor-quality wood to one side of the fireplace.
“I shall get wood from my chambers. I shall be back momentarily.”
Without waiting for Dahlia’s reply, he straightened and headed to the door which led to her private sitting room. She quickly followed him. Walking straight inside, Peter opened the adjoining doors without hesitation and entered his own chambers.
He turned to look at Dahlia, who was clearly surprised to see that the adjoining doors were not locked.
How many times have I looked at those doors?
She stood just inside his chambers, waiting for him. After a few moments, they returned to her rooms, Peter carrying enough wood to restart the fire. When the fire blazed, he stood up and dusted his hands.
“That should be enough to last until morning.”
