Once Upon a Temptingly Ruinous Kiss - Bree Wolf Page 0,108

when she looked at him now, she saw his eyes through the holes of a mask.

A black mask.

Her breathing quickened, and her heart beat in a painful way against her rib cage. She could not stop staring, her mouth slightly agape as shivers raced up and down her skin. A wave of nausea rolled over her, an echo of how she had felt that night a year ago.

The night that had changed everything.

A triumphant grin came to his face. “I was wondering when you would figure it out,” he remarked, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “I thought the night we shared was quite memorable. Apparently, it was not memorable enough for you.”

Leonora knew not what to say or ask. She could not imagine why he was saying these things, why he was here with her now, why he had courted her all these weeks. What did he want?

“Why?” It was no more than a weak sound, but it was all Leonora could manage in that moment.

Lord Gillingham drew himself up to his full height, towering over her, his gaze directed downward at her. “It was sheer happenstance that I recognized you at the masquerade,” he began, a narrative tone in his voice that made the present situation all the more unbelievable for Leonora. “It was your notebook that gave you away, my lady.” Again, that sickening grin stretched across his face. “I admit I was most intrigued, and so I followed you. I was surprised that you led me into that alcove but pleased as well.”

“I led—?” Leonora swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “I did not lead you anywhere. I simply…I was curious, and so I wandered around. I wasn’t even aware you were there.” It felt surreal to be speaking to the man who had attacked her that night, and Leonora once more tugged on her reins.

He would not release them though.

Lord Gillingham laughed. “That, my lady, I cannot believe. You appeared quite surefooted in the way you maneuvered your way through the crowd that night. I must say, I was surprised to find you there. I never would have picked you for the kind of woman to do something so utterly scandalous. Indeed, if anyone else aside from myself had discovered your identity, you would’ve been ruined.” He glanced past her shoulder. “As would your sisters.”

Leonora drew in a sharp breath. “What do you want? Why are you saying these things? It doesn’t make any sense. You berate me for doing something improper, and yet, only moments ago, you asked me to marry you.” She shook her head, staring at him as though he was a creature not of this world.

A slow grin came to his face, and he leaned closer. “I find you most intriguing, my lady. Yes, I do want to marry you because I believe we would suit each other well.” His brows rose in challenge.

Again, Leonora found herself staring at him, unable to believe that what she was hearing was the truth. Was he mad? Never would she consider marrying the man who had attacked her in such a manner. How could he believe she would be amenable? “Release my reins,” she demanded, once more giving them a sharp tug. “Now.”

The grin upon his face turned dark. “I suggest you consider your words carefully, my lady. Remember what is at stake here, what you have to lose.” Again, he glanced past her shoulder toward her sisters. “It is not only your life you’re throwing away. What if others, society at large, would hear of your nightly endeavors? Do you make it a habit of attending the Hamilton masquerade each year? At least twice, I have seen you there myself.” His brows rose in emphasis, telling her that only the night before he had been nearby. He had seen her.

Her and Drake.

A shiver danced down Leonora’s back as she wondered what exactly he had seen. Had her eyes fallen upon him as well, not knowing that it had been him?

“Who was that man with you last night?” Lord Gillingham demanded, a disapproving snarl tainting his voice. “Do you make it a habit of kissing strangers at a ball? Is that why you do not wish to marry? Because you prefer a life of loose morals and scandalous exploits?”

Leonora gritted her teeth, knowing that no matter what she said, it would not make a difference. One look into Lord Gillingham’s eyes told her that his words, his actions were not governed by