Page 18 of If the Slipper Fits
He closed his eyes and replayed the last few moments.
Her lower lip. She drew that plump, rosy flesh between her straight white teeth and heknewshe lied.
But how did he know that tell in particular? Blast it all, why couldn’t he recall the chit?
“What are you doing?”
He arched one brow, but kept his eyelids shut. “Thinking.”
She made a nondescript sound of annoyance and must’ve shifted because there was that scent again, invading his senses and dulling his brain.
He cracked open one eye. “Distracting me with your lovely perfume again. Clever. I’ll never smell it and not think of you.”
She laughed softly and lowered her gaze. “You certainly will not.”
“You sound very sure of that.”
She gave a graceful one-shoulder shrug. “It’s my own recipe. It’s never exactly the same twice.”
A fragmented rush of fuzzy memories flooded his brain. She’d had an obsession with someone’s oils and herbs. Her mother’s? Her father’s?
Her mother’s. Definitely.
And her father…He’d been a doctor, hadn’t he?
Of course. He saw her as she’d been. Shorter by a mile. Dark blonde hair, curlier then, and going lighter by the end of summer. Same heart shaped face, smiling, bossing, teasing. The “as my father always says”sayings, that, yes, now he understood had caused that momentary brain fog outside the dining hall. And finally, the lip-chew for the tell.
Exaltation soared through him. He'd known her a lifetime ago, in Derby, by God. Damn he wished Zeke was here to confirm his suspicion.
But assuming it was she--oneMiss Gloriana Masters.Yes, thatwas her name—why not admit the truth?
“You look very strange.” She drew out the words, eyeing him with wary suspicion.
He crossed his arms over his chest and the lump in his coat reminded him of her pocketed slipper. He ought to give it back.
“As it happens, I spent a fair amount of time in Durham.” A blatant lie, but mark him, he’d trip her up. So much more fun than confronting her outright. “What’s the name of this tiny village from which you hale?”
Anna’s eyes widened in alarm, and Caden nearly snorted. He couldn’t wait to hear what she’d come up with next. A small town in Durham, indeed.
“I did not mean to say I was born there. I merely worked there for a prolonged time.”
“Did you?”
“Er, hadn’t you better return to the dining hall? For my reputation’s sake?” she squeaked.
He grinned and rocked back on his heels.
“Quite right. I should put in an appearance, if only to apologize for my tardiness. Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow and we can resume this little chat—assuming your headache resolves.”
She lifted a hand to her temple. “When one of these comes on, they tend to last for days.”
He nodded, his face a mask of grave understanding. “I see. How-ever does Lady Wentworth manage with you out of commission so often?”
Her hand fell to her side and irritation flashed in her amber eyes. “I never said it happened often.”
He shrugged. “Right. Only that it debilitates you for days on end.”
Her lips firmed and she glanced pointedly behind her into the dark antechamber. “If there is nothing else, sir?”
