Page 21 of Songs and Spun Gold
“I know you’re from a small village near the border,” he said softly, bringing his earnest brown eyes back to her face. “I know you love the theater almost as much as I do.”
“That might be a bit—”
He reached up and brushed one of her curls away from herface, effectively cutting her off when her breath hitched at the tender gesture. He was a stranger; what was he thinking? Although she wasn’t thinking anything when his fingers skimmed her temple. “I know you’re full of fire, but you’re easily flustered. And you’re kind.”
Katy felt her cheeks heating again as she tried to lean away without looking like she was trying to escape. “I’m not—what—how could you possibly—”
“You braved the depths of the theater to thank an actor, defied his assumption that you were scared, and showed concern for him.” One corner of his lips tugged up. “Then blushed because he was barefoot.”
Desperate to change the subject, she latched onto the first thing he’d said. “It wasn’t to thank you,” she said, looking away.
“Then why?” he pressed.
She met his eyes briefly, hoping he couldn’t see the devastation there. “You reminded me of someone. It was a long shot.”
“Who?”
“Someone…someone I knew a long time ago.” Sighing, she pulled her hand free and started walking toward the stairs again, fingering her bracelet.
She needed to remember who he was. Or rather, who he wasn’t.
Gunther created an echo in her memory, but he wasn’t…him.
Striding firmly ahead, Katy fought to push the memories aside. It was over. He was never coming back. And shewould notlet the tears burning in the corners of her eyes show in front of Gunther, because no matter how much her heart whispered that he was an old friend, her head knew better.
Even if he was an old friend, it wouldn’t matter. His clothes clearly spoke to his economic status, if not his social one. No man of his position wanted the daughter of a drunkenvillage miller. The hazy friend in her memories hadn’t. And neither would Gunther.
She needed to find Angelika and go home.
“Katrin, I’m sorry I’m not him,” he said from behind her. “And I’m guessing you don’t make it to Himmelsburg very often.”
“No,” she whispered. Not that it would matter if she did.
His long legs quickly overtook her. Cutting ahead, he forced her to stop as he turned to face her, blocking the way.
“So it’s only this once.” She cocked her head at him, wondering where he was going with this. “One evening where you can pretend that I’m the fool who walked away, and then you can turn the tables and leave me in your dust.”
He was determined, she would give him that. At least while he thought she might be someone worth his while. “And who would I be?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at him. It couldn’t hurt to play along. “Or am I the only one pretending? Surely there’s someone you’d like to dream up.”
People always told her that she carried her heart in her eyes. At that moment, she felt as if she could see Gunther’s pouring out through his as he gazed at her. “The girl who made the village wonderful,” he breathed.
Her mouth dropped open, shocked at this admission. “There was a girl?” And he hadn’t gone back?
“That’s who you are, aren’t you?” he said lightly, the intensity disappearing in a mischievous grin. The speed at which he changed gave her emotional whiplash. “I imagine if I were to visit your village, I would find that all of the young ladies paled in comparison to your glowing smile.”
Hewasalways acting, wasn’t he? She smiled at him, but she could feel that it was strained. “If that were true, I wouldn’t be free to walk with you, would I?”
“So does that mean you will?” His face was teasing as he caught one of her hands and brought it to his lips. “If nothing else, to thank a poor, lonely actor for enchanting you with his song?”
Once again, even knowing she was seeing only one of many layers, she felt laughter bubble up in her chest. “I don’t think you’re a ‘poor’ anything,” she replied with a pointed look at his clothing. Interestingly, the twinkle in his eye grew brighter at this observation. “And I’m not sure if I can trust an actor I just met. You might pretend to be sweet and gentlemanly, then drag me into an alley and murder me.”
“Wha—me?” he exclaimed, gesturing to himself with his free hand and assuming a shocked and offended – but clearly put-on – expression. “You thinkIwould do such a thing?”
“Exactly.” She patted the hand that still held hers and laughed. It felt good to laugh freely with him. “But I think I’ll risk it.”
She knew half of what he said – or at least how he said it – was artificial. He might be a scoundrel. Yet even with all the layers she’d seen, she didn’t think so.
Maybe she was only seeing what she wanted to see. Tracing the outline of someone else around him and indulging in wishful thinking. Maybe she couldn’t help the lure of pretending for a single evening that she hadhimone more time. And not as a mere friend, but as a would-be suitor.
