Every Time We Kiss. Christie Kelley
“I sense a deep secret you are keeping from everyone.”
She yanked her hand away only to have Sophie frown and grab it again. Jennette immediately thought of something to block Sophie’s intrusive sensations: dresses. Jennette imagined herself inspecting every dress she owned, anything to keep Sophie from determining her secret. In her mind, she opened her linen-press and pulled out her violet silk gown. The dress needed some trim, perhaps lace.
Was this working?
She needed to think of something else, quickly. Shoes! She had more shoes than dresses.
What was wrong with her? Sophie was her friend. But that did not matter, not even her friends could know her secret. What else could she think of?
“Stop fretting, Jennette. I can’t guess your secret. But I am a little surprised you have told no one. It’s not like you.”
“Do you see anything else?” Jennette asked, attempting to get Sophie on another topic.
“A man,” Sophie whispered. A deep frown marred her exotic beauty. “Perhaps it’s your new painting instructor in Florence.”
Since Jennette was only pretending to have a painting instructor, she highly doubted he was the man Sophie saw in her trance. After all, when she’d devised her plan to move to Florence, she had to create a valid reason for leaving. Enriching her artistic skills seemed the perfect solution.
“What does he look like?”
“I can’t see him like a portrait, Jennette. I only get fleeting images.”
“Images of what?”
“Just bits and pieces of things,” she replied with a delicate shrug of her shoulders.
“But what do you see now?” Jennette’s impatience rose.
“Darkness,” Sophie whispered with her eyes still closed. “I see darkness surrounding this man like a shroud.”
“Anything else?” Who could this man be? Some swarthy Italian who would sweep her off her feet? A man to help her forget her past and forge a brilliant future?
“His eyes are fascinating—light gray that lend a softness to him.” Sophie sighed. “Such sad eyes.”
Gray eyes.
Jennette swallowed. Surely, there were men in Florence who had gray eyes and chestnut hair—she pulled her hand out of Sophie’s grip again and stood. Sophie never said the man had chestnut hair, so certainly she must be thinking of another.
It had to be someone else.
“I must get back to my guests now.”
“Of course,” Sophie replied with a strange little smile. “Just remember, Jennette, I was right about Avis and Banning.”
Jennette walked to the door and paused at the threshold. Her brother and new sister-in-law had been happily married now for two months. And Sophie had helped make that match by scheming to get them together at a party. While Jennette doubted Sophie’s plan had really made a big difference, she had known about them before they even knew themselves.
But Sophie couldn’t be right about this one. Jennette had to believe that because the alternative was unimaginable. He’d promised to leave her alone after that fateful morning.
“What does he want from me, Sophie?” she whispered from the doorway.
“I cannot know for certain. But have a care, Jennette. With all the darkness surrounding him, I don’t think anything he might want could be good.”
She nodded sharply and left the room. With shaking hands, she retied her mask and readied herself to enter the ball again. Yet, when she reached the small ballroom of her brother’s house, she wasn’t ready to reenter the party. All the well-wishers and festivities could wait just a few minutes while she tried to compose herself. She turned and walked to the back terrace, hoping for some peace.
The cool wind made her shiver as she left the terrace for the dark garden. Hopefully, the chill in the air would keep the guests inside. Peering around, she noticed no one out here.
Thank God.
After taking a seat in the shadowy corner by a rose bush, she spread out her white satin gown and sighed. Unable to sit back due to the lace wings tied on her back, she leaned forward and placed her chin in her hands.
Sophie had to be wrong. He would never seek her out. He had promised John he would protect her name but there was no reason for him to speak with her.
She shook her head and inhaled the musty smell of dead leaves rotting on the ground. Even if he did approach her publicly, she could always give him the cut. No one would reproach her for that, they would commend her.
“Are you a fairy or an angel?” a low raspy voice sounded behind her.
Jennette sat up straight and looked around frantically. She’d been sure there had been no one out here. Her heart pounded in her chest erratically. This was ridiculous. She was at her brother’s house in the middle of a party for ton. Only those invited could be here.
“Who’s there?”
“Well, if you’re an angel, I guess that makes me the devil. Can you resist the devil, Jennette?” the voice whispered.
Jennette stood and turned toward the voice. A man dressed like a highwayman from the last century rose from his seat behind the dying rose bushes. His clothes appeared dirty and worn, and she wondered for a moment if perhaps he wasn’t in costume. A black mask covered enough of his face to make her pause.
But as he stepped forward into the torch light, she could make out his eyes—icy gray as the morning frost. She would never forget those eyes. The way he had stared at her that morning from his seat, unable to move because of what she’d done.
He could not be here. Not at her brother’s home. Not at her birthday ball.
He’d promised to leave her alone.
“Don’t move,” he commanded. “You are the reason I came to this party. I need to speak with you.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
She lifted her skirts and ran toward the safety of the terrace and her family. The gravel crunched loudly under her feet. Couldn’t someone hear her footsteps? As she reached the first step of the terrace and within shouting distance of the party, he pulled her against his chest. His large, gloved hand covered her mouth, silencing her.
Jennette attempted to twist out his strong grip as he dragged her back into the shadows of the garden. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, when all her plans were almost complete. She had less than four weeks before her ship sailed, allowing her to leave him and this mess behind forever. He shoved her back against the pillar of the pergola and trapped her there with his arms. Fear shot through her like lightning.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
His smile turned feral. Through the mask, she could just make out his eyes. She shivered from the cold stare he leveled at her.
“What have I always wanted from you?” his low voice rasped.
“Take off your mask,” she whispered.
“Why? You know who I am.”
“You’re frightening me.”
He leaned in closer and smiled. He drew a gloved finger along her cheek, making her tremble even more. “Good. You should be afraid of me, Jennette. You know what I could do to you and your family.”
She closed her eyes and tried her best to breathe in deeply. “Please,” she begged.
“Very well.” He untied the mask and shoved it into his vest pocket. “Better?”
God, no, she thought. Seeing his face again after five years was not better.