William’s gaze bounced between Callie and Aunt Olivia. “You’re attending Queen Victoria’s coronation?” he asked, and instantly had to suppress the urge to smack his own head at the stupidity of the question. Of course the duke and duchess and their family would be invited to the auspicious royal event. He swallowed the humorless sound that rose in his throat. With all the lighthearted banter this evening, he’d momentarily forgotten the massive social gulf that yawned between him and Callie, an abyss that could never be bridged.
Nothing like a casual mention of attending Queen Victoria’s coronation to slap him back to reality.
“We’re all attending,” Callie said. Was that a note of embarrassment he detected in her voice? Surely not. Surely she looked forward to the event.
“Apparently my invitation went astray,” he deadpanned.
Aunt Olivia chuckled. “It will be a most regal occasion to be sure, but all that pomp and circumstance—it does tire one so. Then the birthday festivities… ” she shot a beaming smile at Callie. “And soon after that, I suspect, will come an engagement announcement.”
Silence fell. William noted Callie’s sudden stiffness. Twin flags of color bloomed on her cheeks, and she stared at her dessert plate, empty except for a few tiny crumbs. A sick foreboding gripped William. Warning bells jangled in his head, and icy dread slithered down his spine.
“Engagement announcement?” he asked, wading into the silence that felt heavy and awkward. “Who is getting engaged?” Bloody hell, please don’t say Callie. Please don’t say—
“Why, our own dear Callie,” Aunt Olivia chirped, her face wreathed in a bright smile. “Did she not tell you?”
For several seconds, the entire room seemed to dim before William’s eyes, engulfing him in darkness. Then his heart gave a painful lurch, one that continued to throb even as the rest of his body turned numb.
He blinked to clear his vision. His gaze fastened on Callie. The color staining her cheeks only moments ago had intensified to scarlet. She was staring at her aunt, who appeared not to notice.
“No, she didn’t tell me,” he said, somehow forcing the words past the hard lump constricting his throat
“Because I’m not engaged,” Callie said in a rush. “Nothing’s been decided.”
“Oh, but it’s only a matter of time,” Aunt Olivia said with a negligent wave of her hand. “After all, you’re not getting any younger, my dear. ‘Tis high time you settled yourself and started a family.” She leaned toward William as if imparting a secret. “Callie, of course, has many admirers, but there’s one particular gentleman she favors. And ‘tis obvious to anyone who sees them together that he favors her as well.”
“Aunt Olivia, please… ” Callie gave a nervous-sounding laugh. She turned to William. Their gazes met. For the space of one painful heartbeat, he allowed himself to look into her blue-green depths. Then he quickly averted his eyes so she wouldn’t see the raw pain he knew he couldn’t disguise.
It required every ounce of fortitude he possessed to utter the words he’d selfishly hoped he’d never have to say to her. “My best wishes to you and the fortunate gentleman.”
“You will, of course, come to the wedding,” continued Aunt Olivia, clearly—and thankfully—oblivious to the devastation he could practically feel oozing from his skin. “It wouldn’t be the same without the presence of Callie’s dearest friend.”
Escape. Christ Jesus, he had to escape. Now. Now. Before he humiliated himself. They’d know something was amiss, but he didn’t care. He had to get away. He quickly pushed back his chair and stood. Muttered the first words that came into his numb brain. Something about needing to rise extra early to pack a shipment. The excuse sounded lame, the words rushed and hoarse, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Except getting the hell out. He mumbled a hasty thank you for the meal and strode from the dining room as quickly as his unsteady legs could propel him.
“Good heavens, I hope the dear boy isn’t unwell,” Aunt Olivia’s booming declaration followed him into the corridor. “He looked positively peaked.”
“Aunt Olivia,” came Callie’s raised voice, “why did you—?”
He exited the cottage, closing the door behind him, cutting off her words.
He briefly squeezed his eyes shut against the suffocating anguish. Damn it, he’d known this day would come. Had known it would hurt. But the reality of it… actually hearing that another man loved her, that she cared for him in return, that an engagement was imminent… bloody hell, the pain simply stole his breath. How was it possible to feel so gutted and empty, yet hurt so badly?
He didn’t know. He only knew that this ache in his heart would worsen until it peaked on the day she married.
And then it would live with him for the rest of his life.
CHAPTER FOUR
The full moon cast a silvery glow on the path that wound through the gardens behind Albright Cottage. Not that Callie required any light. She could have navigated the acres of beloved trails with her eyes closed, using only her memory and sense of smell to guide her past the abundance of roses, lilacs, and the dozens of other plants and bushes that had flourished first under her mother’s loving hand, then Hayley’s, and now Pamela’s.
The garden normally filled her with a sense of peace, especially on nights like this, when a cool, flower-scented breeze caressed her skin and the calming silence was broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl. But no peace infused her now. Tonight, only self-reproach and despair filled her.
She’d completely failed in her mission to share a kiss with William, a bitter disappointment, especially since the evening had started with such promise. All during dinner, as they’d reminisced and laughed and caught up with each other’s lives, she’d secretly counted the moments until the meal would end, when she could put her plan into action. First a casual suggestion to stroll in the gardens, one she knew Aunt Olivia would beg off from as she disliked walking in the dark. Then subtly steering them toward the path leading to the lake, where they were assured complete privacy.
Kissing William.
And finally, finally knowing how it felt for her lips to touch those of the man she loved. Even if the moment ended in rejection, at least she’d have that one kiss. And if the moment didn’t end in rejection… if the kiss were to ignite William’s passions…
But then, to her utter horror, Aunt Olivia had brought up talk of an engagement. And in a blink, the laughter had died along with her plans. If she lived to be one hundred, she’d never forget William’s utterly blank expression after hearing that an engagement was imminent. During those few seconds when their gazes had locked, she’d searched his dark brown depths for some indication of his feelings but saw only emptiness. Then he’d turned away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her, flooding her with despair.
Clearly, he believed she’d been less than forthcoming with him. And she couldn’t blame him, as Aunt Olivia’s words had made it sound as if Callie were both all but betrothed and very much in love—details one would naturally share with one’s dearest friend. Details which, to be fair to Aunt Olivia, weren’t completely untrue, as an engagement was expected, and Callie was very much in love. But she wasn’t engaged, and it was William she loved, and it had sounded all wrong, and dear God, everything was just such a dreadful tangle.
And then before she could gather her scattered wits, he was gone.
A frustrated sound she couldn’t contain burst from between her lips, and she all but stomped her way down the gravel path leading to the lake, making her wish she’d taken the time to exchange the soft-bottomed satin slippers that matched her gown for sturdier footwear.
Yet what was a little discomfort at this point? Her one opportunity to kiss him was gone. There would be no other chance to get him alone. No other prospect for privacy. Aunt Olivia always rose with the dawn and would want an early breakfast, then an immediate departure for London, thus eliminating any chance for Callie to walk to the village to see William before they
left.
Which meant the carriage would simply have to detour to the antique shop on their way out of Halstead. Surely Aunt Olivia wouldn’t object to stopping to bid William farewell.
“And if she does, I’ll just claim I want to purchase the mirror pendant, that I wish to wear it to the coronation,” she muttered as she stomped along.
Yes, that’s what she’d do. And once inside the shop, she’d maneuver William into the privacy of the back room, even if it meant dragging him there by his cravat. Then, after making it clear she was not engaged, she’d commence with what she’d come to Halstead to do. She’d been thwarted tonight, but she would not be thwarted again. Tomorrow was her last chance. She intended to make the most of the opportunity. She would not—could not—fail again.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
When she arrived at the lake several minutes later, she headed toward the massive willow, inexorably drawn to the tree she’d seen in the mirror pendant. She spread the curtain of low-hanging, leafy branches, then stepped between them. With a whisper of sound, they slipped back into place behind her, enclosing her in a dark cocoon. Her feet sank into a soft blanket of grass and moss, releasing a hint of the earthy scent that always reminded her of her childhood home. Closing her eyes, she tipped back her head and breathed in a lungful of cool air.
She was about to pull in another deep breath when a twig snapped behind her. Her eyes flew open, and she quickly turned around. She gasped when the low-hanging branches she’d just walked through separated, then went utterly still.
William stood in the opening.
He appeared as startled as she. Her heart beat a frantic staccato—not only from her momentary fright but also from the sudden realization that tomorrow was no longer her last chance to get William alone. That luck or providence or divine intervention or whatever one wished to call it had gifted her with this unexpected opportunity.
And she intended to make the most of it.
With her gaze intent on his, she moved forward. One step. Then another. Less than arm’s length now separated them—a distance she’d soon erase.
“Hello, William.”
William gripped the slender willow branches he’d just separated in a stranglehold in a desperate effort both to regain his composure and to keep from reaching for Callie. To see if she were actually real or if the fierceness of his desire for her had somehow magically conjured her here.
Bathed in slivers of silvery moonlight spilling through the canopy of willow leaves, she looked like an ethereal dream. But he knew she was real. He could see her pulse throbbing at the delicate base of her throat. Hear her rapid, shallow breaths. Smell the faint scent of roses rising from her skin. It required several seconds for him to dredge up his voice, and even then, it sounded as if his throat were coated with sand.
“Callie. What are you doing here?”
“I was walking through the gardens and somehow found myself on the path to the lake. What are you doing here? I thought you planned to retire early.”
“I did. But I couldn’t sleep. I thought a walk might tire me, and… here I am.” He didn’t mention he’d been strongly drawn here, as if compelled by an invisible hand to the place he’d seen reflected in the mirror. Indeed, when he’d returned home, he spent a half hour turning the mirror pendant over in his hands, carefully examining each jewel, searching for a clue to explain what he’d seen. All to no avail.
Reasoning that perhaps he might see the odd reflection again if he were physically at the location, he’d tucked the piece in this pocket and struck out for the lake. Never once had he considered that Callie might be here as well.
But she was. Here. Alone. With him. With ribbons of moonlight caressing her ivory skin. Looking at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher other than to know it pumped fire through his veins and made his clothes feel several sizes too small.
How many times had he dreamed of being alone with her like this? Too many to count. But bloody hell, it was a very, very bad idea. His damned hands were practically trembling with the need to touch her. And this clawing need to touch her… Jesus, it was going to kill him.
She moistened her lips, and he bit back a groan of pure want. God Almighty, this truly was going to kill him.
“I’m glad you’re here, William. I’d planned to stop by the shop in the morning on our way to London to speak with you, but I’m relieved it’s not necessary to wait that long. About what Aunt Olivia said regarding an engagement—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because there was nothing to tell.”
“You think getting engaged is nothing?”
“Of course not. But I am not engaged.”
“But you will be soon.”
“I… I know it is what Hayley wants for me. A husband. Children.”
The knot in his stomach tightened. “Is it what you want for yourself?”
Her bottom lip quivered then she nodded. “More than anything. But—”
“Then that’s what you should have.” God, that trembling lip smote him where he stood. She looked so damned sweet and beautiful and vulnerable looking at him with those huge eyes. Even as his better judgment screamed at him not to touch her, he reached out and brushed a single fingertip over the soft curve of her cheek. “You should have your heart’s desire.”
William’s finger slipped from her velvety skin, and it required all his strength to lower his hand to his side. Silence pulsed between them, one that to him felt thick with tension. And fraught with danger—of his losing the battle he fought with himself not to yank her into his arms.
He should leave. He knew it. But his heart wanted so badly to stay. To share these few private moments with her. Moments that would never come again. Tomorrow, she returned to London. To her Society world. And the lucky bastard who would marry her and give her heart’s desire.
So his feet remained in place as if nailed to the grass. Yet he couldn’t simply continue to gawk at her. In a desperate attempt to keep his hands off her and talk about anything other than her engagement, he said, “I brought the mirror pendant with me.”
She blinked then frowned. “You did? Why?”
“An experiment of sorts.” He slipped the piece from his pocket and peered at its glossy surface, turning his palm to catch threads of moonlight. “As odd as it sounds, I thought I saw something when we were in the shop, but it must have been my imagination, because I’ve not seen it again.”
“Was it this tree?” she asked.
William’s head snapped up from his study of the mirror. His gaze met hers. “Yes. How did you know?”
“I thought I saw something as well. An image. Of this tree.”
A tremor ran through William. By God, she’d seen it, too. “Why didn’t you say so at the shop?”
“I suppose for the same reason you didn’t—it sounds like something that would make one a candidate for Bedlam.”
“Did you see anything else besides this tree?”
She hesitated then nodded. “Yes. A couple. And a baby.”
William’s heart began to thud in hard, fast beats. “I saw the same thing, Callie. Only for an instant. I thought I’d imagined it, but if you saw it as well… Did you recognize the couple?”
Her gaze bore into his. “Yes. Didn’t you?”
His every instinct warned him he was about to dive into very treacherous waters. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to deny what he’d seen. “They looked like us.”
“Exactly like us.” Looking steadily into his eyes, she reached out and lightly clasped his hand that held the mirror pendant. “What do you think that means?”
Any reply he might have made evaporated at the sudden appearance of a soft glow. He pulled his gaze from Callie’s and watched in stunned fascination as the same shimmer he’d seen at the shop emanated from the mirror.
“Do… do you see that?” Callie whispered.
“Yes. Don’t move. We’re both holding it, and our hands are touching. Ju
st as we were in the shop. I didn’t see anything when only I touched it, nor did you—”
“But when we touch it together, this happens,” Callie whispered, finishing his thought.
Not daring to so much as breathe, William watched an image slowly come into focus. A man and a woman. Who were unmistakably he and Callie. But this time, rather than sitting beneath the willow, they stood. Locked in a passionate embrace. Kissing.
Heat scorched him, and with an oath, he snatched the mirror from her and stepped swiftly back. The image instantly disappeared.
But it didn’t matter. The sight was branded forever in his mind. He couldn’t explain it, didn’t know how it was possible, but it was if the mirror pendant could read his thoughts. Ferret out his most secret desires. And illuminate them for the object of those desires to see.
Bloody hell. His heart’s desire had been right there, glowing in his palm for Callie to see.
Mortification, along with something that felt very close to panic, had him stuffing the damned mirror back in his pocket. He didn’t want to see anything else. And he sure as hell didn’t want Callie seeing any more of his private wishes.
“William… did you see what I saw?”
He ordered himself not to look at her, but his eyes disobeyed the command. And found her regarding him with an expression filled with… Christ, he didn’t know what. Something that severely tested his already tenuous hold on his control.
He raked a less-than-steady hand through his hair. “I don’t know. What did you see?”
“Us. Standing beneath this tree. Kissing.” She stepped forward, erasing the distance he’d put between them. Reaching out, she settled her palms on his chest. “Is that what you saw?”
His command of English deserted him the instant she touched him. Beneath her hands, his heart thudded so hard he could hear the echo in his ears. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Could only stand there and absorb the warmth emanating from her palms.
She took another step forward. Mere inches separated them now. A breeze rustled through the leaves, blowing a silky tendril across her cheek. “Is that what you saw, William?” she repeated.
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