Page 37 of A Flaming Lady's Secret Valentine
She pushed open the French doors at the back of the ballroom. They slammed shut behind them, but thebangwas not heard over the quartet. There was no one to hear them anyway. The Valentine’s Day revellers had their backs turned to watch the waltzing.
Without stopping for breath, she rushed forward on the terrace, reaching up to swipe the mask over Raphael’s head. It came away without resistance. He held up his hands in defeat.
“I knew it!” Cecilia cried, stepping back. Her back connected painfully with the fence behind her. “Mr Travers, why have you come dressed like Edward? Where is my brother?”
“You are upset, I understand—”
“I am not upset, I am…” She struggled to find the right word. “Surprised and angry.”And delighted to see you despite everything else.
“It was not right to dupe you. Please, let me explain.”
Raphael seemed genuinely surprised when she nodded.
“All right, but not here. It is Valentine’s Day. I expect this terrace to be coloured red with scandal by the time the waltz is finished.”
Picking up her skirts, she gestured for Raphael to follow her onto the lawn. She trailed the path that wound around the green to the statue garden, her slippers clicking against the flagstones. She had not ventured this far into their London garden since she and her brothers had come of age.
Dipping beneath an ivy-covered archway, she paused before a tiered stone fountain. A cupid crowned the highest tier, shooting its arrows into the night’s sky. The water had frosted over, and Cecilia realised how cold she was. Muslin and chiffon did little to protect against inclement weather.
“As fine a place as any to die,” Raphael murmured behind her. She turned on her heel. He was staring at the stars, his eyes glittering with their majesty.
“You are a curious character, Mr Travers,” Cecilia declared. “I did not bring you here for violent delight.” He arched a brow, and she cursed herself. “Murderous delight,” she amended. “Now, tell me why you saw fit to don my brother’s guise.”
Raphael circled her, sitting down on the fountain’s edge. He explained how Edward has tasked him with attending the ball in his stead, how he had delivered his attire a few hours ago and had made off afterwards for White’s.
“It is all so strange. What precisely did he task you with doing?” Cecilia asked, having listened intently. “How did he expect you to speak with our mother, withyourvoice, and deceive her?”
“Lord Edward asked that I make an appearance, nothing more.”
“Nothing more?”
“Something more.” He pinched the fabric of his trousers. “He asked that I keep an eye on you, for your own sake.”
Cecilia started. She trusted Edward to provide a sage word or two. She trusted him to be sardonic and truthful. But Edward had never gone to any lengths to protect her, least of all from herself.
“What does he think I have done that warrants a constant chaperone?” Her arms prickled over with gooseflesh. “Did he mention you? Us? No, he cannot suspect a thing. He would not have sentyouto mind me if he did.”
“Could be that he worries Radcliff is not as innocent as he seems.”
Cecilia sucked in her cheeks and nodded. Gravel crunched underfoot as she took another step towards Raphael. He was devilishly handsome in her brother’s garments. The emerald green of Edward’s jacket revealed the gold in his skin. It was vaguely Arthurian in style, and she pictured Raphael as a knight in her mind’s eye, come to save her from the dragon that was Radcliff.
“If Edward was worried for me, he should have come himself.”
“I agree.”
“You only say that so I will not be cross with you.”
Raphael smiled. “I have done what I needed to do. Poorly, but still. I should go.”
Cecilia cleared the way for him to leave, but he did not stir. A fox howled in the distance, and she looked towards its cry. When she turned back, Raphael was standing in front of her.
He towered over her, lithe and graceful, his shoulders arcing always a little forward. He cupped the back of her head while his other hand moved for her mask. He removed it gently, as though to make sure he did not hurt her.As if you could, Raphael.
The cool air bit into the skin of her naked face.
“I should go, aye… But I need to see you,” he explained, throwing her mask to the ground.
Her body coiled tightly as he regarded her,savouredher. His fingers laced through the hair at the nape of her neck, angling her head up. Every touch incited madness. She was powerless to stop it. His knuckle grazed against her jaw.
