recovered.”
“She’s engaged to some soldier. Don’t worry about her,” Damon said. “In fact, you shouldn’t worry about anything. You’re far too pretty.”
“Well, I am worried about one thing.” Katherine widened her eyes. “Who shall escort me to the ball?” She swung her parasol back and forth on her arm as she gazed at the ground, as if thinking through a deep decision. My heart quickened as she looked up at both of us. “I know! Let’s have a race. Winner may get to take me!” She threw her parasol on the ground and ran off to the center of the maze.
“Brother?” Damon asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Ready?” I smiled, as if this were just a casual children’s footrace. I didn’t want Damon to know how fast my heart was beating, and how very much I wanted to catch Katherine.
“Go!” Damon yelled. Immediately I began running. My hands and legs flailed, and I propelled myself into the maze. When we were in school, I was the fastest boy in the class, lightning quick when the school bell rang.
Then I heard peals of laughter. I glanced back.
Damon was doubled up over himself, slapping his knee. I gulped air, trying not to seem winded.
“Scared to compete?” I said, running back and slugging Damon on the shoulder. I’d meant it to be a playful punch, but it landed with a heavy thud.
“Oh, now we’re on, brother!” Damon said, his voice light and full of laughter. He grabbed my shoulders and wrestled me easily to the ground. I struggled to my feet and tackled him, throwing him onto his back and pinning down his wrists.
“Think you can still lick your little brother?” I teased, enjoying my momentary victory.
“No one came for me!” Katherine pouted, wandering out of the maze. Her frown quickly turned into a smile as she saw us on the ground, breathing heavily. “Good thing I’m here to save you both.” She knelt and pressed her lips first to Damon’s cheek, then to mine. I released Damon’s wrists and stood up, wiping the dirt off my breeches.
“See?” she asked, as she offered an arm to Damon. “All you need is a kiss to make everything better— although you boys shouldn’t be such brutes with each other.”
“We were fighting for you,” Damon said lazily, not bothering to stand up. Just then, the sound of horses’ hooves interrupted us. Alfred dismounted his horse and bowed to the three of us. It must have been a sight: Damon lying on the ground, resting his head on his hand as if he were simply reclining, me frantically brushing grass stains off my trousers, and Katherine standing between us, looking amused.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Alfred said. “But Master Giuseppe needs to speak to Master Damon. It’s urgent.”
“Of course it is. Everything is always urgent for Father. What do you bet he has another ridiculous theory he needs to discuss?” Damon said.
Katherine lifted her parasol from the ground. “I should get going, too. I’m all disheveled, and I’m due to visit with Pearl at the apothecary.”
“Come,” Alfred said, gesturing for Damon to jump onto the back of his horse. As Alfred and Damon rode away, Katherine and I slowly walked back to the carriage house. I wanted to bring up the Founders Ball again but found myself afraid to do so.
“You don’t need to keep pace with me.
Perhaps you should keep your brother company,” Katherine suggested. “It seems that your father is a man who’s best taken on by two,” she observed.
Her hand brushed my own and she grabbed my wrist. Then she stepped on her tiptoes and allowed her lips to graze my cheek. “Come see me tonight, sweet Stefan. My chambers will be open.” And with that, she broke off into a spirited run.
She was like a colt, galloping free, and I felt my heart gallop along with her. There was no question: She felt the same way I did. And knowing that made me feel more alive than I ever had in my life.
As soon as twilight fell, I sneaked down the stairs, opened the back door, and tiptoed out onto the grass, already wet with dew. I was extra cautious, since there were torches surrounding the estate and I knew Father would be displeased that I was venturing out after dark. But the carriage house was only a stone’s throw from the house itself—about twenty paces from the porch.
I stole across the yard, staying in the shadows, feeling my heart pound against my rib cage. I wasn’t concerned about animal attacks or creatures of the night. I was more concerned that I’d be found by Alfred or, worse, Father. But the notion of not being able to see Katherine that night made me feel hysterical.
Once again, a heavy fog blanketed the ground and rose to the sky, an odd reversal of nature that most likely was due to the changing of the seasons. I shivered and made sure to look away from the willow tree as I ran to the bridle path and up the porch steps of the carriage house.
I paused at the whitewashed door. The curtains on the windowpanes were pulled shut, and I couldn’t see any candlelight seeping under the windows. For a second, I feared I had come too late. What if Katherine and Emily had retired to bed? Still, I rapped my knuckles sharply against the wooden door frame.
The door creaked open and a hand grabbed my wrist.
“Come in!” I heard a rough whisper as I was swept into the house. Behind me, I heard the click of the lock and realized I was standing face-toface with Emily.
“Sir,” Emily said, smiling as she curtseyed.
She was dressed in a simple navy gown, and her hair fell in dark waves around her shoulders.
“Good evening,” I said, bowing gently. I glanced around the little house, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim light. A red lantern glowed on the rough-hewn table in the living room, casting shadows against the wooden beams of the ceiling. The carriage house had been in a state of disrepair for years, ever since Mother had died and her relatives had stopped visiting. But now that it was inhabited, there was a warmth to the rooms that was absent in the main house.
“What can I do for you, sir?” Emily asked, her dark eyes unblinking.
“Um … I’m here to see Katherine,” I stammered, suddenly embarrassed. What would Emily think of her mistress? Of course, maids are meant to be discreet, but I knew how servants talked, and I certainly didn’t want Katherine’s virtue to be compromised if Emily was the type to engage in idle servant gossip.
“Katherine has been expecting you,” Emily said, a glint of mischief in her dark eyes.
She took the lantern from the table and led me up the wooden stairs, stopping at the white door at the end of the hallway. I squinted. When Damon and I were little, we’d always been vaguely afraid of the upstairs of the carriage house. Maybe it was because the servants had said it was haunted, maybe because every floorboard had creaked, but something about the space had stopped us from staying very long. Now that Katherine was here, though, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
Emily turned toward me, her knuckles on the door. She rapped three times. Then she swung the door open.
I walked cautiously into the room, the floorboards creaking as Emily disappeared down the hallway. The room itself was furnished simply: a cast-iron bed covered by a simple green quilt, an armoire in one corner, a washbasin in another, and a gilt-plated, freestanding mirror in a third corner.
Katherine sat on her bed, facing the window, her back to me. Her legs were tucked under her short white nightgown and her long curls were loose over her shoulders.
I stood there, watching Katherine, then finally coughed.
She turned around, an expression of amusement in her dark, cat-like eyes.
“I’m here,” I said, shifting from one booted foot to the other.
“So I see.” Katherine grinned. “I watched you walk here. Were you frightened to be out after dark?”
“No!” I said defensively, embarrassed she’d seen me dart from tree to tree like an overcautious squirrel.
Katherine arched a dark eyebrow and held her arms out toward me. “You need to stop worrying.
Come here. I’ll help you take your mind off things,” she said, raising her eyebrow. I walked toward her as if in a dream, knelt on the bed, and hugged her tightly. As soon as I felt her body in my hands, I relaxed. Just feeling her was a reminder that she was real, that tonight was real, that nothing else mattered—not Father, not Rosalyn, not the spirits the townspeople were convinced roamed outside in the dark.
All that mattered was that my arms were around my love. Her hand worked its way down my shoulders, and
