The moment Nathan entered Covent Garden, the rich aroma of powders and perfumes assaulted his senses. To his shame, the Duke had decided not to bring Ophelia along today. As an excuse, he told himself it conflicted with her plans, that for now they should behave more distantly toward one another. In truth, he feared that his dear friend would instantly notice that something was amiss.
If Ophelia knew, she would surely never forgive me. I will not put her in jeopardy. I gave her my word.
The Duke needed time to recover from the latest awareness of his own feelings. His beloved opera promised a welcome distraction from the burdensome thoughts and could restore his skill in lying dutifully once more.
Yet, to his surprise, Lady Carlston's face unexpectedly came into view.
So he is here too.
— "Have you come to indulge your love of opera alone this evening, Your Grace?" Lord Willow inquired.
— "Company, while often delightful, is not always necessary," replied the Duke with his customary smile.
At this moment, Nathaniel allowed his attention to drift toward Alex. The boy was quiet and shy in the midst of conversation.
Could I be the cause of that?
— "Perhaps, the Young Lord might be persuaded to keep you company and spare you the ordeal of solitude?" Lady Willow suggested with a touch of amusement in her voice.
The upper part of Nathaniel's abdomen tensed instantly. He clearly desired it, though he did not dare admit it to himself. And he certainly would not have dared to invite Alex to his box after everything…
— "If His Grace does not object, I would be honoured," Alex said, prompting a shift in Nathaniel from stiffness to a slow, burning tension in his stomach.
No, refusal is simply impossible.
— "Object? I should be delighted, Young Lord. Thank You."
Once seated in the box, Nathaniel noticed how Alex seemed to absorb the grandeur of Covent Garden with his eyes, still entirely silent.
Could it be his first time here? Or perhaps in a box…? Or…
— "You seem quieter than usual this evening, Young Lord. I do hope I have not compelled you to keep me company. It would trouble me greatly if you felt obliged rather than willing."
Nathaniel was afraid to hear the boy's reply, but he knew Alex would likely lie if needed.
— "I beg your pardon, Your Grace. You are not the cause of my quietude. For some reason, tonight the scent of the perfumes affects me more strongly than usual, and I feel somewhat light-headed," he murmured.
Ah, that's a relief.
— "The air within these walls can be quite overwhelming at times. Pray, do not trouble yourself. If you would like, we might step outside briefly."
He declined, and the Duke refrained from pressing further. Yet one thought would not leave Nathan in peace.
He keeps calling me Your Grace. Isn't it too distant while we're alone? Does he still regard me with such restraint?
— "Please, do not trouble yourself with formalities, you may simply call me by name. I believe we are already well acquainted."
The moment Alex fell into thought seemed to Nathaniel far too long.
— "Thank you. I shall keep that in mind… for the future."
Yes, he is distant.
As the lights dimmed and the orchestra's first notes swelled, Nathan leaned slightly closer to Alex, answering the boy's unexpected questions without disturbing the performance. He whispered responses about the opera's origins and his travels.
— "Why did you decide it was time to return?"
Something pricked him under the ribs. Memories of that terrible night when Julie had caught him off guard flashed before his eyes.
— "Certain… circumstances required my presence in London."
Inevitable shame now accompanied the Duke whenever the image of Louis arose in his mind. They had not whispered vows of eternal love or fidelity to one another, yet still, such intense and unexpected feelings for a boy ten years younger stirred guilt within Nathan. Perhaps he clung to this familiar emotion as a shield, hiding behind it from something far more significant and scary…
When the opera ended and the two stepped into the hall, Alex seemed to shine. The Duke noticed this and felt a sense of relief, seeing the boy at ease with him, just as he had been the last time they met.
— "What struck me most was that, although Lucia was broken by illness, it seemed to grant her a certain freedom — a chance to defy her cruel fate, to break free from the thread of destiny, though at a terrible cost. Madness became her revenge, and death her release from a merciless fate. I found it rather inspiring, in a strange sort of way. Well… Not inspiring," he smiled awkwardly, searching for the right word.
— "Profound?" the Duke inquired gently.
— "Yes, that's it," Alex replied with a slight nod.
— "Your thoughts resonate deeply with me, and…"
When interrupted, the Duke felt it was time to take his leave and head home. It was childish, perhaps, yet their shared perspective on the opera felt wholly exceptional to him. Nathan had never thought he would value such a small thing, as though he was clinging to the thinnest threads that might bind them together, one way or another…
Truly an extraordinary boy. Perhaps there really could be room for an innocent friendship between us?
Nathan grinned. Or rather, his inner voice mocked such a blatant lie to himself. It seemed the opera had truly helped.
***
From early morning, Nathaniel, following his new habit, sorted through letters and accounts at his desk. It helped him bring some order to his thoughts, as he told himself.
Yet his thoughts, untamed and restless, returned persistently to that last moment with Alex. He recalled the music Young Lord had finally allowed him to hear, though only if the Duke listened from the garden.
He is so cute.
The boy's flush of embarrassment at the smallest compliment and the fascination in his eyes when discussing Liszt was simply too endearing.
I need to ask Sebastian whether he has already sent my request to Paris… I hope it won't take too long.
— "Tell me about an adventure you've had," Alex blurted out, his genuine curiosity shining through.
— "An adventure? I'm afraid I haven't rescued any fair princesses wielding a sword yet,"
All of these vivid memories brought a warm smile to the Duke's face.
— "Even Altiva has traveled more than I have," Alex laughed, "Nothing would have made me return home if I'd known I could go across the ocean after Paris. I can't imagine how you managed it."
— "I'm afraid I realized it was time to move on. After all, I won't be young and handsome forever."
I hope he has forgiven me for that innocent joke.
Nathaniel shook himself, forcing his thoughts back to the day at hand, though they clung stubbornly, threading through every detail of his morning routine. Glancing at the window, he realized the hour and, with a sense of urgency, hurried off for a walk with Ophelia.
— "I can't stand spending holidays at Aunt Lucy's. You have no idea how many times I've been 'hinted at' — though they were really blunt statements — that I'll never marry because my hips have long since rotted. Ha! Your tongue will fall off from envy soon enough, Aunt Lucy," Ophelia said, genuinely irritated.
The Duke sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.
— "Why can't people just keep their tongues to themselves? What satisfaction is there in speaking of such things about my dearest Ophelia?" He drew her close to calm her, and she began to thaw.
— "Aren't we supposed to practise being love-struck doves rather than a quarrelsome old couple?" the Duke asked with a smile.
— "Ah, never mind. It would be tiresome enough to act a part where no gossiping eyes could see us," she replied.
— "I thought acting this part was the purpose of your life for now," the Duke teased.
She nudged him lightly in the ribs, making him cough but continue laughing. Ophelia laughed in return.
— "Speaking of gossip… As soon as I returned from Aunt Lucy, Emily told me… though you know Emily, a saintly soul, would never listen to rumors. But apparently they grew so extensive that even her innocent ears caught wind. Or guilty ones," Ophelia said with a mischievous chuckle.
The Duke raised an eyebrow, smiling, anticipating what she might say next.
— "What I mean… Right! Emily said she heard a rumor… That the Duke of Blackthorn and the Young Lord Carlston have united and divided all the lovely ladies of London between them. What could that mean, Nathan?"
The Duke felt a tightening in his chest and a subtle unease.
— "Ophelia, you know people invent foolish things about others simply to color their dull lives," he replied.
— "Yes, but… What could have caused such rumors? Do you continue your riding lessons together?"
— "Yes, we shall meet again tomorrow. The Young Lord also comes to me to play the piano. And we happened upon each other at the opera quite by chance. And perhaps he has taken an interest in woodcarving. It is all so perfectly innocent! I see no reason for such idle gossip. Ah, how people hunger for drama. Why not simply say: the Young Lord and the Duke of Blackthorn are now good friends — how delightful."
Ophelia's face showed concern.
— "Nathan… You can tell me anything."
A wave of anxiety swept through him from head to toe.
— "Ophelia, there is nothing for me to tell," he said dryly.
She softened but remained worried.
— "Sorry… I'm just—well, I have a taste for romantic stories, you know me," she said, attempting to lighten the mood.
A cunning inner voice echoed his own words.
— "Ophelia, there is no room for a romantic story here".
"Liar."
— "Perhaps I've finally grown enough to learn how to be friends with men?"
"Liar."
— "And if, as you suggest, I were to feel… a certain fondness…"
"Huh, just certain?"
The Duke swallowed nervously.
— "My experience tells me that the Young Lord is interested only in ankles and dainty shoes."
"But it doesn't stop you from wanting him, does it?"
Nathan felt a surge of irritation at this internal dialogue but kept his composure as best he could. Ophelia grew somber and continued walking arm in arm with Nathan in silence. After a while, she said:
—"Nathan, I'm not hinting at anything. I just want you to know and remember something important."
She stopped him, took his hands in hers, and looked him straight in the eyes.
—"Our marriage is not a cage. It's an opportunity to be free for both of us. We only need a little patience, so that no one can ever destroy our lives or the lives of those we love."
The Duke's throat tightened slightly.
Sweet Ophelia… she sees right through me, just as I feared.
Yet Nathan was not ready to confess to her all that weighed upon him, so he answered:
—"I will do everything to make sure our plan succeeds."