“I had hoped you would notice.”
She did not look at him. She did not look at him because if she did, she was going to drop the pendant or step back or say a thing that would make whatever this was a great deal more dangerous than it had so far been, and her hand was already shaking on the open lid of the box.
“You did not, then…” she said softly. “You did not come merely to call.”
“I did not.”
“You came to mark me.”
“I came to give you a gift.”
“It is the same thing, Your Grace.”
She heard him draw a breath.
She did not look up. She did not dare look up. She knew that the moment she did, whatever was between them in this small alcove would come crashing down. So, she kept her eyes on the pendant.
“Will you wear it, Alice?”
“You have a habit of dropping my title, Your Grace.”
“I am aware.”
“Why do you do it?”
“For the same reason I came here this morning, Lady Alice. I cannot help it.”
She looked up. She had not meant to. Her face had, just like the night before during the dance, decided to look up of its own accord.
Cassian was looking down at her, and the small distance between them suddenly became the distance she had not been able to call by any honest name before now.
“Turn around, Lady Alice.”
“Your Grace?”
“If you mean to wear it, turn around. I shall fasten it for you.”
CHAPTER 15
Alice turned around.
She faced the wall of orange leaves at the back of the alcove, held the open box in front of her at her waist, and waited. Her breath had gone shallow and quick, and she could not, to her chagrin, entirely steady it.
Cassian had stepped up behind her. She could feel him. She did not need to look to know how close he was because his nearness moved against the back of her gown like the air before a storm, and her shoulders gave up the small last pretense she had been making of composure.
“Lift your hair, Lady Alice.”
She lifted her hair. She lifted the heavy dark coil of it from the back of her neck, held it over her shoulder, and waited. The cool air kissed her heated skin, and she suppressed a shiver.
His hands lifted the chain over her head. He brought it down to rest against her collarbone, the small gray stone settling at the hollow of her throat with a coolness that spread all through her chest. His fingertips found the nape of her neck, taking the two ends of the clasp. He fastened it. It was a small clasp; it took him perhaps three seconds. He could have let her go after the third second. He did not.
His hands lingered on the back of her neck. They were warm whereas the chain was cool. He had not until now touched the bare skin of any part of her body for any length of time, and the feel of his skin against her own was unlike anything she had experienced before. His thumb lightly stroked down the line of her nape.
“Cassian.”
She had said his name again. She had said it again in the orangery in full view of half the household, and she did not know whether she had spoken it aloud or only thought it until she felt him exhale slowly against the back of her neck. “Alice.”
“Yes.”