The Duke's Bed Warmer-Chapter 42: Can You Sew?

The sewing circle was as usual busy in the east garden. Alina was helping Lady Brennan when she looked up and saw Austin walking through the gate.

For a second, she thought she was hallucinating. Austin never came to the east garden.

He was in his training clothes. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and it looked like he had been riding. There was a hesitation on his face as if he had walked here without planning to and was only now realizing where he was.

The circle immediately froze when they followed Alina’s gaze. But his eyes were fixed on Alina. He slowly walked towards them and cleared his throat before speaking.

"My shirt..." he said, like it was enough explanation. "Its button came off."

Alina stood before anyone could react. She covered the small distance between them and stood near him.

"Let me see," she said.

He held the fabric out slightly. The gap where the button should have been pulled the shirt open just enough to reveal the skin beneath.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out thread, a needle, and a spare button. She always carried extras now, a small habit she had built over weeks.

"Hold still."

Her fingers brushed his chest as she aligned the fabric. The fabric was thin and his skin was warm under it. She felt the subtle rise and fall of his breathing under her touch. She shook her head, trying to focus on the button.

She could feel him watching her fingers as she stitched. After she was done, she bit the thread, tied it and smoothed the fabric. Her palm rested briefly on his chest before she stepped back.

"It’s done."

He looked down at it, as if checking her work.

"Thank you," he said.

"You’re welcome."

Then he left. The women sat in silence for a moment, then Marguerite laughed. Lady Brennan followed and Lady Talbot joined them as well.

Alina sat back down, picked up her needle and didn’t smile or even acknowledge their laughter. But somehow, her fingers still felt warm.

In the afternoon, when she returned to her room, suddenly someone knocked at the door. It was Austin’s steward.

He stood at the door with a shirt draped neatly over his arm.

"Miss Ashworth," he said, inclining his head slightly. "His Grace asked that this be seen to."

She looked at the shirt. Its top button hung loose.

Of course.

"He has staff for this," she said.

"He does."

"And yet he sent it here."

"His Grace told me to go to you."

"Fine. I’ll do it by evening," she said.

"Thank you, Miss Ashworth." he said and left.

Alina closed the door and sat by the window with his shirt in her hands. She didn’t waste time. She immediately threaded her needle and began to sew.

She brought the shirt to his study that evening though she hadn’t planned to. But seeing it lying in her room had made it impossible to ignore.

His study door was open. He was, as usual, working. She stepped inside and he looked at her. She held out the shirt.

"The button won’t come off again."

He took it and looked down at the button. His fingers traced the stitches she had sewn.

"You are indeed good at this," he said.

"Thank you. But to be honest, I didn’t think you’d appreciate it."

He looked up.

"I always appreciate good work," he said, setting the shirt aside and picking up his pen. "I just don’t comment on things that are expected. Moreover, sewing isn’t that difficult. It requires patience rather than skill."

She stared at him in disbelief.

"Sewing isn’t difficult?"

"It’s just...thread through fabric. Anyone can do it."

"Anyone?"

"Yes."

She let out a short laugh.

"You think sewing is easy and anyone can do it. You, who has never held a needle."

"I didn’t say I could do it. I said anyone could."

"Fine. Then we’ll see how right you are," she turned and left the study.

She brought her sewing kit to bed that night. To her surprise, he was already in bed. She sat on her side of the bed and held out the sewing kit.

"Sew."

He looked at the kit and a piece of fabric she had brought for practice.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I want to see how easy it is."

"So...this was your plan?"

He sat up and took the kit and fabric. She watched him thread the needle. He held the needle too tightly, so she was afraid it might break.

Finally, after struggling for two minutes, he pushed the needle through the fabric. The stitch that came out was crooked. The thread bunched the fabric. He tried another stitch. It was worse than the first. On his third try, he hissed as he pricked his finger.

She laughed. When he looked at her, she laughed harder. Finally, the Duke of Ravenmoor had found something he was bad at.

"They are useless," he said, looking at his stitches.

"They’re the ugliest stitches I’ve ever seen."

"But I said it was easy...I didn’t say I was good at it."

"You said anyone could do it," she leaned slightly closer, examining his uneven stitches. "You are anyone and it’s terrible."

He put the needle down and looked at the blood beading on his skin. She held his hand and pressed her thumb on the cut to stop the bleeding.

"You’re a sore loser," she smiled.

"I’m not."

He pulled his hand away, and tried once more. It was still crooked.

"It’s still useless," she said.

"I feel the same about your political advice."

She laughed again and he smiled back. He then put the needle and fabric aside and lay down.

"Goodnight, Alina."

"Goodnight, Your Grace."

In her room, Audrey sat at her writing desk. She had finally got a response from her contact to whom she had written to find out about Alina’s background.

Alina Ashworth. Only child of Lord Baron Ashworth and Isadora Ashworth. Mother died when she was four due to lung fever. She.....

The next lines made her heart stop. She read it again and then again, making sure she was reading it right.

She folded the letter and thought about Alina. Her sharp tongue, her quick mind, her stubborn refusal to be broken.

Then she smiled and put the letter in her drawer, locking it carefully. She then looked out at the night sky and waited for morning.