one that was true: she was looking for Cav.
She found him after what felt like forever and recognized him instantly despite the fact that this was a masquerade. Good Lord, but he did look handsome. Everything he wore was fitted perfectly against that body she now knew as intimately as she knew his smile or his laugh. Buff trousers, shiny boots, a fine waistcoat threaded with gold and blue that somehow matched her own dress and hair perfectly. Like they’d planned it when of course they hadn’t.
He glanced toward her as the crowd ebbed and flowed around them, and then he was moving toward her. Her heart leapt as she watched him weave in and out, but always driven to her. She wanted him so desperately in that moment. And she wanted so desperately to keep the feelings in her chest limited to mere desire.
“Would you care to dance, my lady?” he asked as he reached her. He held out a hand and she shivered. He wasn’t wearing gloves, flouting propriety as he sometimes did.
She took his hand, her stomach fluttering at the warmth of him even through her own gloves. He guided her to the dancefloor and they fell into the turns of the waltz as the orchestra began.
He smiled at her. “And how is your evening so far, my lady?”
She wrinkled her brow. Did he not recognize her? Had he just come across the room and picked her without purpose? She was just another lady in the crowd who caught his rakish attention?
“Cav, you…you know who I am, don’t you?” she asked.
His fingers tightened against her hip slightly, possessive, hungry, awakening a fire in her that she just couldn’t seem to extinguish now. “Of course. Do you really think I wouldn’t know you no matter what?”
“A masquerade is meant to trick the eye,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.
He shook his head slowly. “Emily, I would know you in the dark of a moonless night. I would know you from a far distance without aid of a spyglass. I would know you in any costume, in any era.”
“H-how?” she whispered. She shouldn’t ask the question. The answer was too dangerous and she knew it. But she couldn’t help herself.
I couldn’t help myself. After the last eleven days, she really ought to needlepoint that onto a handkerchief and carry it with her as a cautionary tale.
“I know you from the way you catch your breath or say my name or turn your head. I know you.”
His lips were curved in the little smile that was natural to him, but his dark blue eyes held hers without wavering and there was an intensity there that burned down deep into her soul. Made the rest of the room fade away, and suddenly it was as if they were back upstairs in his room, in his bed, all alone except for the walls she put between them in an attempt to not let this go too far.
But she could see now that it was too late. It was too far already. It had been too far from the first moment he kissed her.
She was shaking, but he kept her upright, just as he had for so long and through so much. She clung to him even though he was the storm that was lashing against her boat.
The music was fading now. A few more turns were all she had to stay on her feet. His smile fell away as he searched her face, and she knew he would see through her because he always did. Always had. Always would.
“Emily,” he said softly.
She shook her head as the music ended at last. She executed a polite curtsey so prying eyes wouldn’t see anything untoward.
“Please don’t,” she whispered as she pulled away from him.
He didn’t repeat her name—for that she was happy. Not only would it draw that unwanted attention, but right now she felt like a string was connecting them and if he said her name she wasn’t sure what would happen. Would it snap and separate them forever? Would she trip over it, wreaking havoc in her wake?
She didn’t want to know. Not now. Not yet. Now when her entire life seemed to be slowly turning upside down and she just wanted to find a way to stay upright for a little longer.
She did it by pretending everything was fine as she made her way out of the ballroom. She waved to friends and spoke to servants and hoped she