Chapter 5 The Garden 2

  Beatris

  Breakfast began.

  Plates shifted across the table. Silver brushed softly against porcelain. Glasses lifted, catching the morning light before settling again.

  Voices rose polite, controlled but softer than before, careful.

  Like no one wanted to be too loud around him.

  I forced my attention onto my hands, the bottle, the  glass, the movement, anything  but him.

  But every time I passed his side of the table my breath shifted, shorter, shallower.

  Like my body was adjusting around him without asking me first.

  "Wine."

  His voice came from my right.

  My fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle before I turned.

  I stepped forward, my fingers adjusting around the bottle as I reached for his glass. The edge of the table brushed lightly against my hip, grounding me for half a second before his presence replaced it.

  My hands weren't steady, I tried to control it.

  Tried to slow my breathing, it didn't work.

  His gaze stayed fixed on me, I felt every second of it.

  "Careful," he said softly.

  "It would be a shame to waste something so fine."

  My breath caught.

  The liquid tilted slightly before I steadied it again, forcing my hand to slow.

  I must not make a mistake, not in front of him.

  I finished pouring and stepped back quickly, my pulse still uneven.

  ***

  "More wine."

  My head lifted slightly this time, his glass was still half full, for  a second I hesitated.

  Did he not notice?

  Or

  was he doing it on purpose? My grip tightened.

  Still, I stepped forward again, closer, this time.

  The space between us felt wrong, too small, too aware.

  "You seem nervous," he said quietly.

  My throat tightened.

  "No, sir."

  "Then why do your hands tremble?"

  I hadn't noticed before, now I did.

  A slight shake, barely there but impossible to ignore once seen.

  "I don't know," I whispered.

  His hand shifted slightly on the table.

  Not enough to touch me.

  Close enough that I felt it.

  "Then perhaps," he said, his voice quieter now, "you should get used to being near me."

  My breath hitched.

  The words settled deeper than they should have.

  I stepped back too quickly, the bottle pressed harder into my palm, as heat  rose to my face.

  Time moved strangely after that, too fast, too slow. I couldn't tell.

  "Wine."

  My chest tightened instantly.

  I stepped forward again, his glass was untouched.

  When I reached him, he wasn't looking at the table. He was already looking at me.

  "Do you enjoy serving me, Beatris?"

  The way he said my name, slow, deliberate made something twist low in my chest. He remembers my name.

  "I... I just do what I'm told, sir."

  "That wasn't my question."

  His voice dropped lower, but closer. Like it wasn't meant for anyone else.

  My eyes lifted before I could stop them.

  Just for a second.

  His gaze held mine immediately, for a moment

  I forgot to breathe.

  "I don't dislike it," I said finally.

  He looked at me for a long second, then nodded slightly, as if satisfied. "Good. I prefer when you don't."

  It made no sense, yet it sent a strange warmth through my body. Mr. Morreli's voice broke the strange silence between us.

  "Mr. Devere," he called lightly, lifting his glass. "You've been awfully quiet all day. You should join us. We were just talking about the council's new proposal."

  His eyes flicked away from mine instantly. The sharp pull between us broke as he turned his head toward the table. His posture shifted relaxed, distant again. It was like he'd put a wall back up in a single second.

  "Of course," he replied smoothly, his tone calm. "My apologies, I was... distracted."

  He said it so naturally that no one noticed the slight pause before that last word. But I did. I felt it.

  He joined their conversation, answering in that steady, deep voice that carried so much quiet authority. I stood back with the other maids, pretending to focus on the wine glass in my hand. But every time I looked up, I found him already looking back.

  It happened more than once.

  Once when the older lord beside him made a joke that got everyone laughing. Another time when one of the ladies beside him whispered something into his ear. He didn't respond just looked at me, and then slowly turned back, almost as if to remind me that he knew I was still watching.

  Each time, my stomach twisted. My face grew warmer. I tried to hide it, but it was useless.

  From across the garden, I caught Diana's eyes. She was standing near the servers' table, holding a bottle. When she noticed me blushing, she smirked instantly. Her brows arched in amusement as she tilted her head, silently mouthing what's going on?

  I shook my head quickly, trying to look serious, but that only made her grin wider.

  My heart was still racing, though I didn't know why. It was just another day of serving wine and food but somehow, everything about this one felt different.

  Mr. De Vere rose from his seat. The movement drew every eye at the table.

  "Gentlemen," he said in that calm, smooth voice of his, "I believe I'll retire for the day. It's been... pleasant."

  He gave a faint nod to Mr. Morreli, who smiled in return and offered a few words of farewell. Then, without another glance, Mr. De Vere walked away, each step silent and measured. 

  I let out a small breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. He stopped, not far from where Mrs. Helen stood.

  She had been watching everything going on around, as always her posture straight, her attention fixed on the smallest movements around her.

  He leaned slightly toward her and said something in her ear.

  Mrs. Helen's expression changed. Her gaze lifted and found me, sharp and direct. My fingers tightened instantly.

  What did I do?

  The look held for a second longer than it should have, then she straightened, he didn't wait for a response.

  He simply stepped away again, continuing toward the house without another glance.

  The doors closed behind him.

  Mrs. Helen turned.

  Her steps were quick now, purposeful as she crossed toward Mr. Morreli. I watched without meaning to, she leaned in, spoke quietly.

  Mr. Morreli paused for a second. Then he nodded. My stomach tightened and before I could look away Mrs. Helen was already turning back.

  Her eyes found me again.

  "Beatris."

  I stiffened.

  Mrs. Helen stood a few steps away, her eyes already fixed on me.

  "Come here."

  My fingers tightened slightly around the empty bottle before I set it down.

  Each step toward her felt heavier than it should.

  "Yes, ma'am?"

  She didn't speak immediately.

  Just looked at me.

  "Mr. De Vere wants to see you."

  The words landed too quickly. My breath caught.

  "Me?" The word slipped out before I could stop it.Her expression hardened slightly.

  "Don't ask unnecessary questions."

  My throat tightened.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She stepped closer, lowered her voice.

  "You will go to his room."

  My fingers curled slightly at my sides.

  "And Beatris..."

  Her gaze dropped briefly to my hands, then back to my face.

  "Mind yourself."

  The words were quiet but heavy.

  "Do not do what you are not told to do."

  "He is not a man you make mistakes around."

  My chest tightened.

  "I understand," I whispered.

  She held my gaze for one second longer as if making sure I meant it.

  Then stepped back.

  "Go."