Under the Rose - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,63

better.

I knew exactly what to write back.

We’ll have the letters within the hour.

28

Sam

When I walked into the dining room, every single person swiveled around to stare.

It would have felt threatening if the atmosphere hadn’t turned jovial while I’d been upstairs. More drinks had been served, and a few people had clustered off, laughing in corners and admiring the historical details in the room. Even Ward was joking around with Cora, who waved me over excitedly.

“We’re about to do the final piece of The Empty House dinner,” Ward said. “I knew you two wouldn’t want to miss it. And Birdie is all right?”

“We’ve had a lot of calls from customers regarding the shipment that was delayed at the airport,” I said, holding my hands out apologetically. “It’s been a real headache. Birdie was responding to two extremely irate customers.”

“Such a shame,” Cora said. “I can’t imagine you leave many customers unhappy with all the good that you do.”

“Our customer’s happiness is always our first priority.”

“Excuse me one second,” Ward said. He went striding toward Thomas—Cora looked extremely concerned before schooling her features into a demure smile.

“You didn’t share my letters with Birdie, did you?” she asked. “All that talk about passion and thrill-seeking she was going on about. It made me worried.”

“No, of course not,” I said. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Having you as a confidante has been lovely. Although I wished I’d known that you look like, well, this,” she said, running her nail up the side of my jacket.

I coughed into my fist but stood still. “How did you think I looked?”

She tipped her head to the sprightly man in his eighties a few feet away. “Like that.”

“I just look like me.”

“I’ll say.” Cora sipped her martini with cool elegance. “Thomas wouldn’t even be bothered except that both men won’t stop sending letters to the house. He doesn’t mind what affairs I indulge in, in my own time, but he feels like I’m ‘boasting about.’” Another eye roll. “Of course, this is part of what he sees as his curse.”

I watched Thomas and Ward from over her shoulder. Ward was telling some story in his booming voice about sheep herding. A ploy to make Thomas feel comfortable? Or did he honestly not suspect it was the Alexanders who’d stolen his valuable first edition?

“I guess that’ll serve me right for carrying on with two men at the same time. Two men with a flair for the dramatic and a love of the written word,” Cora mused.

I coughed into my fist again, concealing my surprise. “A lesson for next time, I suppose.”

She tapped her nail on her glass. “May I ask a personal question?”

“Of course.”

“Did you love that woman you wrote that letter to?”

“Love?” I repeated because Freya was walking back into the room and I had to remind myself to breathe.

In the flickering candlelight, in this lavish room, Freya was more beautiful than any antique. She held my gaze for a lasting moment, framed by the doorway, and I knew she was recalling our kiss.

That kiss. Was kissing Freya what living life uninhibited felt like? If life wasn’t crushing anxiety and exhausting dread and forcing down any inclination toward joy…then did life feel like Freya’s lips? Could life feel like something you wanted to take more of? To savor and indulge?

For the very first time, I’d acted on hungry impulse. I hadn’t weighed the consequences beforehand, hadn’t suppressed my feelings for duty or honor. In fact, what I’d done in that bathroom was dangerous, reckless and stupid.

The ends of Freya’s soft lips quirked up.

It was fucking worth it.

“It was years ago,” I said to Cora. “I don’t even remember what I wrote.”

Yes, you do.

“How very cute,” Cora said.

“Come now, friends,” Ward suddenly boomed, looking ruddy-faced from liquor. “The hour grows late, and we have one last tradition to perform before tomorrow’s delights. Birdie and Julian, I trust that your masks are probably still stuck in the Phoenix airport?”

Freya was back by my side. I swore I could feel her body heat.

“They are,” she said. “If anyone has masks we could borrow, Julian and I would appreciate it.”

“I’m sure Thomas and Cora can oblige this request,” Ward said.

“I always bring extras,” Cora promised. “I can’t ever decide. You’re welcome to take your pick.”

A slight wind had picked up outside, rustling the branches against the window. The room felt darker, quieter—fraught. The fireplace and the candles and everyone’s black-tie dress made the room feel released from time. I eyed the secret