One More Haunted Evening

by Ava Stone

  “Kilworth,” he said, smiling once more. “The Earl of Kilworth, and you are…?”

  Kilworth? This was the man who’d given Lady Hope those earbobs? This was the man who’d chased the girl through the Serpentine and whom the lady was certain loved her? The man flirting quite shamelessly with Lila, or trying to? She hadn’t given him even an ounce worth of encouragement. “A friend of Lady Hope’s,” she said rather waspishly.

  His smile only widened. “How good to have friends in common, Miss…”

  “Do excuse me, sir,” she said, and pushed past him, back into the garden and around a hedgerow. Heavens, what a horrid man! What in the world did Lady Hope see in him?

  There she was. Perched where she sat last year, on a raised sitting area, where Anna could watch the crowd, sketchbook in hand. She was also wearing the same costume, a Venetian mask of black and gold that covered all of her face but her lips. Anna’s golden hair curled down her back, tumbling past the gold and red gossamer wings of a fairy. But that wasn’t what drew his attention. It was the black corset revealing the swell of her breast, far more than he was comfortable with any other man seeing. Laced tightly over a red linen shirt with full sleeves. The black skirt split and revealed a red underskirt and her red slippered feet were neatly crossed at her ankles. She looked as if she stepped right out of Renaissance Venice.

  The sight of Anna Southward once again in this costume nearly stole his breath and made his mouth dry.

  To think that last year he and his friends started out simply to have a good time and seek out ladies without drawers. That masquerade had not gone nearly as well as planned, though he had wondered if the fairy was wearing drawers once the excitement settled and Callie was back. Or, how quickly he could undo her laces so that he could peel back the many layers she wore.

  He’d been drawn to her and was certain she’d felt something as well.

  Ha! He was fooling himself. He was only something to be used and studied. How could he so easily forget her insulting words to him? Was he so easily won over by fairy wings and a tight bodice? No woman had ever treated him in this manner, and Miss Anna Southward was doing a disservice to herself by viewing all people as objects to be studied. There was so much enjoyment to be had if only there wasn’t that sketchbook between her and everyone else. Especially him.

  This time, David had the punch at the ready when he approached her. He came from behind, blocking the light from the torches and shadowing her work.

  She slowly turned and looked up, a slow smile coming to her face. “Good evening, Mr. Thorn.”

  “Miss Southward,” he bowed. “A year late, but I’ve managed to deliver your punch.”

  She giggled and held out her hand. “Thank you.”

  “Do you plan to sit there all evening, or might I be graced with a dance.”

  “I don’t believe that would be appropriate,” Miss Southward answered sweetly before taking a sip of the punch.

  Why the bloody blazes not, he wanted to demand, but held his tongue. She was at a party, her toe was tapping beneath her skirt, if her bouncing leg was any indication, and she claimed she didn’t wish to dance. Was it him?

  This was a first. No lady had ever rejected his request for a dance, which reminded him that Miss Southward needed to start seeing people, gentlemen especially, as more than specimens.

  “Why wouldn’t it be appropriate, Miss Southward?” David asked as pleasantly as he could, but the woman frustrated him to no end.

  “I wasn’t exactly invited,” she whispered.

  The vice that had been around his heart relaxed. It wasn’t just him.

  “If I’m discovered by anyone else, I might be asked to leave. I’m not sure I could stand the humiliation.”

  This time David laughed. A beautiful woman, invited or not, would never be asked to leave a party held by any of his friends. She clearly didn’t know any of them all that well. “I can assure you that Quent will not mind in the least, and he certainly would not ask you to leave.” David held out his hand.

  Anna bit her bottom lip, studying it. “Very well.” With a deep breath she set her sketchbook and punch aside and took his hand. David tucked it in the crook of his arm, quite pleased with himself, as he led her to the dancing. This year it was taking place, beneath stars and lanterns since nobody had been able to banish the stench from the castle. David had half a mind to ask Brighid for a magical concoction since, despite Chetwey’s best arguments, she had not left.

  David grinned. As soon as they were near, the country dance came to an end and the orchestra struck up a waltz. He led Miss Southward to the center of the floor; he bowed and she curtseyed. Then he took her hand in his and pulled her slightly closer than was Society approved. But, as this was Quent’s masquerade, and the purpose was to have fun, David was quite certain there were many activities going on of which Society would not approve. Dancing too close to Miss Southward was the least of those infractions.

  It was just as he suspected, she danced beautifully, her steps matching his, as if they’d done this a hundred times. They fit and would fit in all manners of enjoyment. David learned long ago that if a woman could not match him in a waltz, she didn’t match him in any other enjoyable pursuits either. Anna Southward was perfection. From the golden blond hair, to the red slippers upon her feet, and everywhere in between. They moved and swayed as one, and he wanted her. There was no doubt. He just wasn’t certain she wanted him.

  “About viewing people simply as subjects to be studied,” he began, though unsure how to proceed.

  She blinked her green eyes up at him. “Yes.”

  “People aren’t leaves.”

  Anna smiled. “Of course not, Mr. Thorn.”

  “Some may not appreciate being viewed as no more than a specimen.”

  The smile slipped and her eyes grew round. For the first time, her steps faltered and he nearly stepped on her delicate foot. Blast!

  “I’ve insulted you.” Tears began to fill her eyes. “Please forgive me.” With that, she pulled out of his hold and turned to run.

  “Anna,” he called. But she didn’t even turn around as she darted through the dancers and toward the castle.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered to himself and then took off after her.

  Anna could barely see where she was going through the tears filling her eyes. She’d been such a fool. To think, she thought she’d made everything better by assuring him that she was not a forward, wanton girl, but simply an artist, in the hopes that he would like her again. Or at least not be offended. And, she thought it had gone well when he asked her to dance.

  Such a lovely dance. Never had she had a partner so strong and powerful on the floor. It was so easy to follow his lead, with his hand pressed to the small of her back, nearly burning her skin from the heat of his touch. And, the way her hand tingled from where their palms clasped together. The night was rather cool, but she was deliciously warm with Mr. Thorn. He’d left her breathless, but that had nothing to do with the waltz.

  It was a dance all girls dream of. The most handsome gentleman at the ball, choosing her, then masterfully leading her down one end of the floor and back. And then he ruined it all.

  No, she had ruined it by pointing out he was nothing more than a thing to be studied. Wasn’t that better than her first impression, which bordered on loose morals? Instead of helping the matter, she thoroughly managed to ruin everything. Again!

  To think she thought he asked her to dance because he wished to. Perhaps even liked her or enjoyed her company. No, it was to chastise her for her words.

  Oh, she just wanted to go home, but she couldn’t without Lila or Tilly, and she had no idea where they were.

  She’d simply get her things and wait by the gate for them, as they had planned, so that they could sneak back into the vicarage together.

  Anna glanced over her shoulder as she reached her sketchpad. She’d heard Mr. Thorn’s please for her to stop, but she ignored it, but now he was nearly to h
er. She couldn’t face him. Not again. With any luck, and hoped she could forget his existence altogether. She stopped only long enough to get her sketchpad, but that was all he needed to gain on her.

  “Anna,” he breathed out. “We must talk.”

  He’d never called her by her given name before, and hearing it on his lips made her long for more. Oh, how she wished she could undo all the wrong things she’d said since he’d returned to Ravenglass. “I think you and I have said quite enough, Mr. Thorn.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “I don’t believe we’ve said nearly enough.”

  She raised her chin and straightened her spine. “I will have you know, sir, that I’ve received quite enough lectures on behavior and speech from my uncle than most would hear in a lifetime, and I don’t need to hear the same from you.”

  His eyes widened. “You think I wish to lecture you?” Thorn pushed his fingers through his dark hair and laughed. “Hardly that, my dear.”

  Anna narrowed her eyes on him. What was he about? Perhaps he didn’t understand the word because that was exactly what he was beginning to do as they waltzed.

  “Please, allow me to explain.” He offered his arm once again.

  Anna hesitated. A part of her wished to know what he had to say, hoping that what was between them could be resolved. A little spark of hope ignited and grew. She so enjoyed Mr. Thorn’s company. Even simply gazing upon him. He made her think about things no young miss should consider, such as what it would be like to kiss him, or have his arms about her, holding her close. She’d never wondered that about anyone before in her life, but she’d done much thinking about it over the past year. Yet, since he’d returned, she’d pushed him further away every time she opened her mouth,

  But what if he was going to lecture her, even if he didn’t realize that was what he was doing? A set down would certainly destroy her. Did she risk her heart further by going with him?

  “Please,” he nearly begged.

  Anna blew out a sigh. “Very well.” Placing her hand in the crook of his arm, Anna allowed Mr. Thorn to lead her further from the guests, behind shadows and greenery where they would not be seen.

  Perhaps this wasn’t a wise decision. A miss could be ruined if caught like this and her uncle would punish her for a year. But, Uncle was sound asleep. Of that she was confident.

  “Let’s begin again, shall we?”

  Anna blinked up at him. “Again?”

  “Yes.” He smiled, revealing straight white teeth. His warm brown eyes had a devilish glint that nearly warmed her to her toes.

  “Last year at this time I sat for a beautiful fairy. I’d hoped to engage her in a dance once she was finished sketching. But, to my dismay, she disappeared.”

  Why was he telling her this? They both knew what happened last year.

  “I’ve spent the past year thinking about that fairy, hoping she would return so that I could learn her identity.” He placed his hands on her hips, drawing Anna close. “I’ve been waiting a year for that dance.”

  Her heart hitched. He’d been thinking about her all year, just like she’d been thinking of him?

  He leaned back and his eyes narrowed. “By chance did Brighid know that you sketched me last year?”

  What did Brighid have to do with anything? “She knew I asked a gentleman to sit and that I enjoyed sketching his portrait.”

  “How many other gentlemen sat for you last year?”

  “None,” Anna answered. “I had planned on sketching only the guests and costumes until I saw you.”

  A slow smile came to his lips. “Me?”

  “Yes. I just knew I had to sketch you.” Her face was burning and her stomach churned. Would the truth send him running?

  He chuckled. “I’ve asked Brighid for nearly a year for your identity and she pretended not to know.”

  “You asked about me? What did she tell you?”

  “That if you wished your identity known, then you would not have run off.”

  “That was not the case at all,” Anna rushed to assure him.

  “I know that now.” He laughed. “I think she finally took pity on me when she told me where you’d be the other morning.”

  Her face heated again. The day she’d muddled everything. “She never told me who it was that I had sketched. I simply assumed she didn’t know.”

  “Oh, she knew, of that I don’t doubt.”

  “Then why didn’t she say anything to me?” She’d need to ask her friend the first chance she’d got. Oh, she would have loved to have had a name to go with the man who had captured her heart a year ago.

  “I’ve thought about it at length, and I do believe it is due to my reputation.”

  He seemed to be the perfect gentleman, though she did have a few wicked thoughts about him. None she would share, of course.

  “Quent, Garrick and I, have a certain reputation for thumbing our noses at society and having fun at their expense. I assure you that I’ve never ruined an innocent, but that’s about the only line we’ve never stepped across.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You’re a rake?”

  Mr. Thorn laughed, but he didn’t deny it either.

  She’d heard about their kind, not that she’d met one. They sounded terribly exciting, especially since her uncle disapproved of their behavior with every part of his being.

  “Yet, you seemed offended when I spoke of sculpting. I didn’t think rakes could be offended.”

  “Shocked, hardly offended.” His brown eyes darkened. “I wasn’t quite sure what to make of you, Anna.”

  The way he whispered her name warmed her to the core. “That is why I felt the need to explain, so you weren’t offended. I needed you to understand that my desire for a model was purely for the sake of art, not anything scandalous.”

  “Yes, I recall your reasoning quite well,” he ground out. “Which was offensive.”

  Anna blinked up at him. How could it possibly be? If he believed her wanting to view his beautiful body was in artistic interest, he would not think of her as a miss with low morals. “I don’t understand.”

  Mr. Thorn pulled her close. “I am a gentleman, Anna.”

  “Yes, I know.” He was standing so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. Her pulse was pounding and her heart racing, waiting to see what he would do next.

  “Correction. I am a man.”

  Obviously, but she didn’t say anything.

  “And, when a man is in pursuit of a woman, he does not like to be thought of as merely a specimen.”

  Did he say pursuit? He was in pursuit of her? Giddiness spread through her entire being.

  Before she could say anything further, or even think, Mr. Thorn pulled her close and lowered his head to hers. When his strong lips touched hers, Anna went limp. Goodness, he was more powerful than any magic contained in the castle. Her head swam and dizziness engulfed her. She had to clutch onto his shoulders to keep from falling, which she wouldn’t have done anyway as he was holding her so tightly against him.

  A moment later he pulled back and looked down at her. “Do you understand now?”

  Anna bit her lower lip. She wasn’t sure she understood anything.

  Mr. Thorn groaned and took her lips again, this time deepening their kiss and tasting her as she tried to mimic his actions. Her first kiss and it had come from a rake by the name of David Thorn.

  Her bodice grew tight and she became overheated but she wasn’t about to break this embrace or allow his lips to leave hers. Anna threaded her fingers into his soft hair in order to keep him close. So many sensations rioted through her that she couldn’t tell where one started and another ended. She felt alive for the first time in a very long time, and David Thorn had certainly just ruined her for any other gentleman of her acquaintance. She just prayed he didn’t up and disappear for another year. She wouldn’t be able to take it this time.

  He slowly drew back and looked down at her, and Anna let her hand slip to his shoulders again. “So tha
t we understand one another. First, you intrigue me like no other woman I’ve ever met.”

  Anna didn’t even try to keep the smile from her face.

  “I’m not offended that you wish to have a model to sculpt, but I’d be quite distressed if you asked someone other than myself.”

  Heat infused her cheeks. At the moment, the last thing she was thinking about was sculpting David, though if he were missing a few items of clothing, she would not object.

  Oh, she was very wicked indeed.

  “Nor will you look upon me as simply a specimen for your work.”

  “I don’t believe that would be possible now.”

  “Good.” He grinned. “I’m glad we understand one another.”

  Anna was not certain she did understand. There were no promises for tomorrow, unless she asked him to model, but nothing beyond that. Yet, as he was lowering his mouth to hers again, she could find no objection in him doing so.

  Quent truly should have had a better plan than just racing to the vicarage atop Falacer in the dead of night, ready to swear his undying devotion to Lila Southward. For one thing, he had no idea which window was hers, and therefore he had no idea which window he should ping pebbles at or stand beneath.

  But even with no plan, he had to come, he had to see her. Once he realized that he was quite in love with her, and wanted to spend his life with her, he didn’t want to wait a second longer to tell her. And he desperately hoped that she felt the same for him. He didn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t.

  He suspected she cared for him. There had always been something between them, even that first day along the road to Ravenglass when he’d carried her back to the vicarage in his arms. He’d felt it then and he was certain she had too. If he hadn’t been so afraid of losing his freedom, he’d have clearly seen what had been right in front of him the entire time – the most wonderful girl he’d ever known, ever met, ever spotted from afar. All that nonsense about his angel had just been…Well, it was a way to distract himself, a way to cling to his freedom without him thinking about it. If he was trying desperately to find some mysterious girl, then he wouldn’t have time to even think about Lila or what her presence did to him.