Desire and Deceit [bxb]

8. Differences

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...

The day for their outing at Hearts and Roses arrived sooner than Alvin had expected. Even though he had chosen the date himself, and he had chosen as far as he could go without raising suspicion, it still seemed a little too early to face the duke yet again.

To his surprise, it was not annoyance that made him frown as he thought about their first public appearance, but rather it was his nerves.

Even now, standing in front of the mirror while John fixed his hair with a comb, his heart was doing somersaults. The thought of seeing the duke after what had transpired on his last visit set his face aflame. It was not shame, he was sure, but rage. Rage at being played a fool at his own ploy, and rage at being bested over so spectacularly.

Rage it must be.

"Would you like any accessories on your hat today, sir?" John asked, stepping back.

"Accessories?" Alvin repeated distractedly. "Such as?"

"A feather, or a ribbon."

"A feather?" He parroted again, turning around with an incredulous look on his face. "What am I, a bloody maid?"

"Of course not, sir." The valet tried to placate him. "It's just that, it's very common for noblemen being courted to wear a feather on their hats. It's considered very fashionable, in fact." The young man nodded, as if to solidify his claim.

"Bloody good thing I am not a noble then." Alvin muttered, turning back around to the mirror. He scowled at his reflection. "I am what I am, I am not going to change myself for a pompous duke."

John smiled nervously, regretting ever having asked the question and berating himself inwardly. "It's not an issue, sir. I shall fetch your usual hat."

"You better." The other muttered moodily, watching his valet all but flee to the other end of his dressing room and to the hat rack.

"Here we go!" John said cheerily, coming back with his black hat.

Alvin snatched it, shooting the younger man a dark look. "Thank you, John." He gave himself a final once over in the mirror. "And you can choke on that feather, thank you very much."

John blanched.

...

"Mister Frazier."

Alvin gulped at the beaming look on the duke's face. The man stood with his ramrod straight back in front of his shiny carriage, all but playing the role of the perfect prince charming.

"Duke." He nodded. He knew, in the back of his mind, that the correct greeting should have been a 'your grace' but he'd be damned if he cared about pleasantries and proprietary.

The wrong greeting failed to falter the smile on the duke's face. If anything, he seemed to be even more gusted.

"Shall we?" Vincent gestured to his carriage. "But I hope we don't need a chaperone for the carriage? My coachman shall be in the front at all times." The question was directed at Lord Frazier, who was standing behind Alvin, staring over the two of them like a hawk.

"No, I shall trust your good sense this time, your grace." The baron said, nodding his head. "I also trust Alvin to make appropriate choices."

"Very well, Lord Frazier." Vincent nodded at his grandfather, and then looked Alvin in the eye. He held out his palm. "Mister Frazier?"

Alvin wriggled his finger at his sides for a moment, before he resigned himself to his situation and put his hand in the outstretched palm, letting himself be helped into the carriage like a maiden. He sat down at the far end of a seat, almost planting himself to the wall of the carriage in order to maintain as much space as he could between himself and the duke.