Page 54 of The Duchess’ Little Miracle

“I think you are entirely correct,” Seraphina reiterated, a radiant smile blooming across her face as they drifted toward the edge of the floor. “I do find you attractive.”

William blinked, his grip on her hand slackening slightly as he stared at her, utterly caught off guard. “You... you admit it?”

Merely thinking he was handsome or appreciating his gentlemanly character would never account for the severity of her physiological reactions. But a strong, baseline physical attraction? It accounted for the elevated heart rate, the localized heat beneath her skin, and her subconscious impulse to maintain distance simply to avoid sensory overload.

She had been jumping to absurd, dramatic conclusions, terrifying herself with the dread of emotional entanglements when the simple answer had been right in front of her all along. It was not love, nor was it some mysterious heart ailment. It was a transient pull. It was completely temporary, and like any other physical phase, it would pass in due time.

She took a deep, utterly euphoric breath, feeling as light as air. The suffocating weight that had rested on her chest for weeks vanished completely. She was not losing her mind, nor was she falling in love.

“Thank you, William!” she said earnestly, taking his hand and giving it a vigorous, grateful squeeze. “You have no idea what a profound service you have just rendered me! You diagnosed it brilliantly. You truly are remarkable!”

William stood utterly frozen in the middle of the ballroom, looking down at her with an expression of baffled bewilderment. “I... I am confused.”

“Oh, do not be confused at all! You solved it!” Seraphina beamed, patting his arm cheerfully. “Now, if you will excuse me, all this revelation has made me terribly parched. I am going to procure a glass of punch.”

Without waiting for his reply, Seraphina turned on her heel and scurried toward the refreshment tables with a light, bounding step, leaving William standing alone on the edge of the dance floor, entirely speechless.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Iam confused,” Anthony said, setting his tumbler down onto his desk. He leaned back in his armchair, searching William’s face. “Let me ensure I have captured the exact... architecture of this. You confronted your wife with the declaration that she is physically attracted to you... and she simply admitted it?”

“Yes!” William barked, turning sharply at the edge of the rug and pacing back to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

His shoulders were tight beneath his coat, his jaw set in a line so rigid it looked carved from granite. He was practically ranting, his voice rising in an uncharacteristic, agitated pitch that filled every corner of the room.

“She did not hesitate, Anthony. She did not flinch. It was not news to her. Seraphina is a woman of exceptional intelligence; anyone with a fraction of a brain could have deduced the situation weeks ago. She reacts to me. She cannot hide it. It is written in the elevation of her pulse, the way her eyes dart away when I step into her space, the undeniable tension that electrifies the room whenever we are within five feet of one another. It was obvious.”

William stopped near the window, thrusting a hand through his hair, a chaotic gesture that sent several strands falling out of their usual alignment.

“Usually, when a woman is confronted with a truth of that magnitude, there is a predictable, human sequence of events,” William continued, gesturing sharply toward the ceiling as if appealing to the heavens. “She ought to have been flustered. She should have blushed, stammered, or launched into a spirited, illogical denial! I expected an argument. In fact, I was prepared for one.”

He resumed his pacing. “I have confronted her about being nervous around me before, Anthony. Whenever I tell her that I make her heart race or that she is hyper-aware of my presence, we bicker. It’s funny. She constructs elaborate, defensive theories about heat, or bad tea, or the pressure of the social calendar. She fights back. But last night? Nothing! No resistance whatsoever.”

William threw his hands up in disbelief. “She looked me dead in the eye, agreed that she finds me visually and physically attractive, and moved on as if she were ticking a box on an inventory ledger. As if she were stating that the weather was mildly overcast or that the soup required a pinch of salt. A minor, entirely unremarkable observation. She was also happy. Did I mention that? Relieved even. I do not understand it.”

Anthony tilted his head, a smirk spreading across his features as he put his elbows on the armrests of his chair, joining his fingers in a steeple. “Tell me this: why, precisely, is that a catastrophe, my dear William? The woman finds you attractive. It is hardly an insult. So what? Are you attracted to her?”

“That is entirely beside the point,” William declared instantly, waving off the question with a dismissive flick of his wrist as if swatting away a persistent fly. He didn’t even pause in his stride. “That is not what we are discussing here. Do you have any idea what a development like this does to our arrangement? Do you have any concept of how thoroughly it threatens to ruin everything we meticulously planned?”

He paused near the corner of Anthony’s desk, planting his hands flat on the wood and leaning in, his eyes flashing with intensity.

“She cannot afford to harbor feelings for me, Anthony. The entire foundation of this marriage rests upon its eventual, seamless dissolution! A time will come when we must quietly, discreetly annul this union. That is another reason we have refrained from consummating the marriage in the first place.”

William stood up straight again, running both hands over his face, dragging his palms down his jaw with a long exhale that sounded almost like a groan.

“If she develops an emotional attachment to me, it complicates every single variable in the equation. What if the time comes for us to sever ties, and she refuses to go? What if she wishes to remain? What if she looks at me with those wide, trusting eyes and tells me she wants a real marriage? What am I supposed to do then, Anthony? I cannot simply throw her out into the street if she does not wish to leave. I am a gentleman, not a monster. It puts me in an impossible position.”

Anthony let out a rumbling chuckle, raising his hands in a calm, placating gesture. “William. My good friend. Take a breath. I fail to see the issue here.”

“If she falls in love with me, what am I supposed to do then?” William demanded.

“But she never said she was in love with you,” Anthony pointed out. “She said she was attracted to you. There is a vast, expansive gulf between physical attraction and love.”

“No, there is not,” William countered instantly, spinning on his heel to face him. “They are two sides of the exact same treacherous coin. Attraction is merely the gateway, the inevitable, slippery slope before a person succumbs completely and admits they are in love. It is a sequence. First comes the physical awareness, then comes the emotional investment, and finally, total, unmitigated attachment. Trust me on this, Anthony. I know how human nature operates. This physical attraction will lead directly to emotional entanglement; it will complicate our lives beyond repair, and it is entirely, disastrously contrary to everything we agreed upon.”

Anthony sighed deeply. He set his tumbler down, leaned forward, rested his forearms on the desk, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Look, William,” Anthony said, his tone shifting from light amusement to bone-deep exhaustion. “We have been in this room for nearly an hour. For sixty minutes, I have listened to you pace holes into my carpet, and frankly, I am entirely exhausted from hearing Seraphina, Seraphina, Seraphina.”