Alexander’s POV
The walk back to the manor was a retreat. There was no other word for it.
I set a pace that was borderline punishing, my boots crunching heavily on the frozen gravel path. I needed the cold. I needed the biting wind to strip the scent of orchids and damp earth from my skin, to cool the blood that was still boiling in my veins.
Lilian kept up without complaint, though I could hear her breathing quicken to match my stride. She didn’t let go of my hand until we reached the heavy oak service door. I dropped it then, the loss of contact feeling like a physical severance, and held the door open for her.
“Upstairs,” I commanded, my voice flat. “Library. I’ll have Ruth bring lunch up. We have lost an hour.”
“We didn’t lose it,” Lilian said softly, pausing on the threshold. Her
