The Lady Who Lived Again. Thomasine Rappold
tightened her chest. Jace’s refusal to help would prove disastrous. She was already a pariah, an abomination. Why on earth had she risked adding pathetic liar to the list?
She inhaled a deep breath to summon her courage. As Jace had mentioned, she wasn’t a coward. If she had learned anything about herself during her recovery, it was that she possessed real strength. Which meant she’d find some way to turn these unfortunate events to her favor—even if it killed her. First, she’d appeal to Jace’s thirst for knowledge. Her case was astounding, hadn’t he said so himself? He would not spurn the rare opportunity she presented; she was sure of it. She made a final adjustment to her hat, standing taller. If professional considerations were not enough to sway him, she’d dispatch every flirtatious weapon in her rusty arsenal to win him over. He might be an egotistical doctor, but he was still a man.
Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the doctor’s residence. She glanced up toward the sound of hammering above. Henry Whalen, town handyman and former friend, frowned down at her from the rooftop as he pounded away. Apparently, Jace had enlisted Henry’s service in repairing his roof.
Shrugging off Henry’s snub, Maddie stared at the house to which she’d sworn never to return. The peeling white shutters and neglected flower boxes had the same forlorn look as they had on her last visit, an ominous reminder of the nightmare she’d endured inside these walls. The blinding pain in her leg. The endless interrogation. The stunned faces staring down at her. Do you remember your name? Do you know where you are?
Butterflies took flight in her stomach. Closing her eyes to steady her nerves, she charged up to the porch. She blew out a breath and knocked on the door.
Jace answered wearing a wrinkled shirt and a look of surprise. His disheveled appearance and the open book lodged under his arm made it evident she’d interrupted his work. Here stood a man who spent his time wisely. Convincing him to squander it in service of petty lies would be no easy feat.
“Good morning, Jace.” She enhanced the chipper greeting with a beaming smile.
His wary expression told her she’d have to tone it down.
“Madeline.” He stepped aside as she swept past him into the house.
She scanned the desk tucked in the windowless alcove to the left. A lamp glowed over piles of papers and books. His coat hung from the chair he’d abandoned to answer the door.
“I don’t mean to intrude…” She murmured some pleasantries regarding the weather, that it was a fine day for walking. The empty chitchat she’d perfected over the years rolled easily from her tongue. “Grandfather and I were just discussing how pleased we are that you moved to Misty Lake. This town can use a doctor with your experience.”
She sashayed to the front room in dramatic style. Maintaining a semblance of grace proved difficult in the room’s alarming disarray. Meandering through the clutter, she edged past gaping trunks and crates, skirts swishing.
“You’re looking well.” He dropped the book to a chair as a sly smile crept onto his face.
“Why, thank you.” Puffing her chest, she whirled toward him, assuming a pose that would heighten his view. “I feel wonderfully fit.” He regarded her quizzically, as though she’d said something odd. Relaying the state of one’s health to a doctor seemed appropriate. The sudden glint in his eyes seemed anything but.
His gaze trailed up and down the length of her, but this was no clinical inspection. Awareness shivered down her spine. His blue eyes caressed her body like a physical touch, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. He moved closer. An air of urgency engulfed her. She’d poked a sleeping bear, faced him in the danger of his own den, and yet she stood unafraid. Quite the opposite, actually.
“New hat?” he asked.
Her confidence soared. She smiled, genuinely pleased by his notice. She gave a few dainty taps to the brim.
“This old thing?”
Grinning, he reached toward her.
The heat of his nearness pulsed through her veins. Breath hitched in her throat.
With a sharp tug, he tore off the price tag.
Maddie cringed. Lowering her eyes, she directed a silent curse to Mrs. March and her intentional oversight. She glanced up at Jace. Despite the sinking feeling, he could see straight through her, she muddled on.
“As I was saying, Grandfather and I are certain your practice here will be very successful.”
“Why don’t you stop fluffing my feathers, and tell me why you’re here?”
She opened her mouth to protest but sighed instead. So much for charming him. Apparently her days as an irresistible belle were behind her, along with the best days of her life. She acknowledged the loss, turning so as not to look directly in Jace’s eyes.
“I’ve had a change of heart.” She dragged a gloved finger along the dusty edge of a nearby table, then faced him again. “I’ve decided to answer your questions about my ordeal.”
His brow arched as he considered her in that way he seemed to consider everything. Skeptically.
“Why?”
His surprising lack of enthusiasm deflated her poise. “I…have a favor to ask in return.”
“Your grandfather?” Lines of concern framed his eyes; his mouth was drawn tight.
In that briefest of moments she glimpsed who he was. A serious professional utterly devoted to the welfare of others. Her admiration of him was genuine. This man’s work had meaning—true value—and suddenly she felt ashamed for involving him in some trivial charade to recover her pride.
“No, Grandfather’s fine.”
Jace took another step closer. The scent of him wafted toward her, scattering her thoughts. That strange sensation returned, that force of attraction that pulled and tempted her body in a most discomfiting way.
“What is it you need?”
His husky tone held the promise of things she couldn’t describe and yet somehow desired. Something so close and yet so far away. All at once the question flew from her lips.
“Would you escort me to a wedding next month?”
“Your friend Amelia’s.”
She nodded, knowing he’d read all about it in the letter he’d found.
“That could be arranged.”
She exhaled in relief; she was halfway there.
“Since you’re kind enough to act as escort, I wish to ask a slight something more of you.” She gave a demure smile and a coy toss of her hair.
He pursed his lips in return. “Out with it.”
She took a quick breath for the courage to proceed. In for a penny, in for a pound.
“I’d like you to attend not only as my escort, but as my fiancé as well.”
His eyes bulged, and his arms dropped to his sides.
“It would only be temporary,” she assured him. “After the wedding, I will jilt you, of course.”
“Jilt me?” He coughed.
“Why yes. I can’t very well regain my reputation if you jilt me.”
“So that’s what all this is about.” He circled his finger in the air, encompassing her less-than-stellar performance. “Regaining your reputation.”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“Oh, but I think it is—especially if we’re to be married.” He smiled wolfishly. “And beyond that, it’s disappointing. And here I felt flattered.”
She bristled at his teasing tone. “I must attend as a properly engaged woman. Propriety