“No.”
“I felt so happy.”
She wondered if he’d ask her about his marriage, but she wouldn’t parlay over his impending nuptials—that evidently wouldn’t include Roxanne Ralston. She wouldn’t clarify why she suspected that conclusion, and she definitely refused to play a role in what happened among the Ralston family members.
She merely wanted to slink to her cottage, live quietly with Clara, and hide from any trouble or adversity.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“It has to be nearly midnight.”
“I should proceed to the manor. If my carriage hasn’t already pulled up in the driveway, it will be there shortly.”
“Why don’t you tarry? There is no rule declaring you must go at midnight.”
“Aren’t I Cinderella for the evening? If I don’t flit away before the clock strikes twelve, I might turn into a pumpkin.”
“I spent the entire party furtively watching you. If you waltz out the door, my fun will waltz out with you.” He scowled. “Are you sad? You can’t be.”
“I’m not sad. I don’t like to hear that you deem me to be odd. It’s a burden I carry, and I’d rather not carry it.”
He kissed her urgently, and when he drew away, he said, “Does it feel to you as if we were supposed to meet? Do you ever get the impression that Fate has orchestrated some sort of destiny where we’re concerned?”
“Fate always provides a destiny.”
“What will ours be? Can you read your Taro cards, then tell me what you discover?”
“I never try to divine my own path. I’m content to travel down whatever road opens for me. I don’t need special guidance to find the route.”
She eased away and stood. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Don’t leave yet.”
“I have to. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
“You’re being absurd.”
He was loafing on the bench like a lazy king, grinning, his legs stretched out, appearing as if he hadn’t a care in the world. And he didn’t really.
“Shall I walk you out?” he asked.
“No. I can’t have us observed together. Let me slip into the house, then you can follow in a few minutes.”
“I’ll visit you tomorrow.”
She didn’t bother to protest. It was pointless. She hurried away without a goodbye. She went to the verandah, dashed up the stairs, and rushed in to locate the butler so she could inquire about her carriage.
All the while, she sensed him studying her intently. He was lusting after her in a thrilling way, and she was anxious to go home and calm down so she could brace for when he next arrived.
Clearly, she had no ability to avoid him or to protect herself and, for once, she wished she wasn’t quite so averse to learning her future. If the universe chose to give her a tiny hint of what was approaching, she wouldn’t complain.
Joanna sat on a chair in front of the fire. A candle burned on the table next to her. It was very late, but she couldn’t sleep. Her attendance at the party had enlivened her to where it was impossible to relax.
She’d dined and danced and had even been kissed by a dashing rogue under a rose arbor in the garden. After such a perfect evening, who could rest?
Clara was gone to her own party, so Joanna was alone in the cottage. She didn’t mind being alone, but she missed Clara’s energy pulsing in the rooms.
She froze, thinking she’d heard a horse’s hooves on the gravel outside. Mutt lay by the warm hearth, and when she glanced down at him, he woofed softly to say, It’s fine. Don’t fret.
Ever since she’d arrived home, it had been raining steadily. Lightning flashed occasionally, and every once in awhile, there would be a loud crack of thunder that made her cringe. There was an eerie perception in the air that almost felt like an enchantment.
She heard a sound outside again, and she was sure it was the gate opening and closing. She looked at Mutt, but he barely raised his head, not even when there was a knock on the door.
“Some guard dog you are,” she complained, but he simply stood and stretched, his tail wagging ferociously.
She tiptoed over and peeked out the curtain, and to her great astonishment, the Captain was there. He was wet and bedraggled, and she rushed over and pulled the door wide.
“You ridiculous man!” she scolded. “Why are you riding about the countryside in the dark and the rain?”
“I missed you.”
“You deranged fool! Come in, come in.”
She grabbed his wrist and led him over to the fire. She pushed him onto a chair, and Mutt hovered at his feet, appearing delighted. She tossed on a log to get the flames burning hotter, then she hurried to the kitchen and returned with a towel and a bottle of brandy.
She fussed over him, removing his coat and boots, drying his face and hair, pouring him a glass of liquor and urging him to drink it. There was a knitted throw on the sofa, and she draped it over his shoulders.
“Better?” she asked.
“Definitely.”
He clasped her arm and tugged her onto his lap, and she nestled with him, the throw folded around them both so they were wrapped in a cozy cocoon.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“I told you: I missed you.”
“I missed you too, but not enough that I’d have ventured out in a storm to see you again.”
“After you departed, the weather worsened, and the guests fled. In practically the snap of a finger, the manor emptied, and it seemed so quiet. I couldn’t bear it.”
“I don’t suppose it would do any good to warn you about catching a chill. Or are you too tough to be felled by a little illness?”
“I’m much too manly to ever be sick.”
She scoffed. “I should chastise you for visiting me, but this is a very nice surprise, so I won’t.”
“Why are you still up?
