whenever she liked. Then he had looked up to see her frown, her face flushed and her green eyes sparkling as if with temper.
You think it too frivolous, Miss Reed?
Strawberries are very nice. Jennet reached for his hand, and boldly twined her fingers through his. What I want most is you, Mr. Gerard.
That shameless confession had proved his undoing. He had pulled her into his arms and kissed her, and the taste of her lips had made him even wilder. She had not protested or struggled; she returned his passion with an equal measure of her own, just as she had under the kissing bough at Christmas. If the baroness had not walked down from the lodge to join them a few moments later, Greystone would have surely taken her right there in the flower-speckled grass, under the bright July sun. He remembered how his mother had laughed as they quickly ended the heated embrace.
That can wait until the two of you are wed, my lad.
He forced his attention back to the other guests, all of whom he easily identified despite their masks. He saw childhood friends now grown into adults, many paired off as couples. They seemed to him so blissfully unaware of anything beyond their modest scope. Greystone also realized that life had gone on in Renwick without him, which gave him a curiously empty feeling. None of Pickering’s guests would ever know what William Gerard had become, or why, and that was as it should be. Still, for a moment he wished he could truly unmask himself in every sense of the word. It would horrify them to know the truth, but it would change their perception of the woman he had so ruthlessly abandoned.
She would be congratulated instead of pitied.
Prudence Hardiwick arrived with a large group of her giggling friends, all of whom had dressed as various members of royalty. After helping themselves to the wine most of them hurried off to the ballroom, obviously eager to dance. Prudence stayed behind to approach Jennet.
“Are you telling fortunes tonight?” she asked. “If you are you should have a crystal ball, you know. It is just the thing now.”
Jennet shuffled the deck effortlessly as she looked up at Prudence. “I find the cards a more reliable source. Would you care for a reading?”
Greystone felt amused as he watched Prudence sit down and his former betrothed select cards at random and lay them out on the table. Jennet had some skill in cartomancy; she had demonstrated it to him and his parents on more than one occasion. Yet the lady’s real gift came from her keen observations of others.
“Six of spades,” Jennet said to Prudence, tapping the first card she put down between them. “This means that you long for an alteration in your situation.”
That provoked a giggle. “Oh, yes, ever since my last season in London.”
Jennet nodded and placed another card on the table. “The jack of clubs. You have a young admirer who has taken an interest in your future.”
“That would be Peter Mason, poor dear. He is so awfully amusing, and only four years younger than me.” Prudence sighed. “I wish we could spend more time together, but since his sister has been widowed … ” She shook her head.
“This is the card of jealousy,” Jennet said as she put a five of hearts next to the jack. “Someone resents this change in your life.”
“Not Mama, certainly,” Prudence said, and then her expression shifted into a scowl. “Peter’s sister has been unbearably proper since our introduction. She will not permit us to sit together alone whenever I call. She even told him he could not come to the ball with me.”
“Two of clubs.” Jennet watched the other woman’s face. “Your future happiness depends on how you deal with the obstacle that comes between you and your heart’s desire.”
Prudence frowned. “I cannot remove his sister.”
“The card does not represent a person, but a problem.” Picking up the cards, Jennet returned them to the deck. “Something you enjoy indulging in now should be made absent from your situation.”
The other woman drew back. “Surely not attending balls and assemblies. I should die of dreariness.” She thought for a moment. “There is ever so much talk about me.”
“Is this talk kind?” Jennet asked, and then when Prudence grimaced she said, “Then you have named your obstacle.”
“I must go and speak with Morwena. She is the worst gossip, and always telling tales about me,” the Hardiwick girl said, and hurried off.
Greystone