Passion - By Lauren Kate Page 0,39

angel that he was, would have been able to see Bill.

What would Miss Biscoe's father say if he saw his daughter down here, up to her elbows in grease? Roland smiled. It's a fine prank to pull on him.

Roland, it is not a--

What are you hiding from up there, anyhow? Roland jerked his head toward the garden.

A tinny rumbling in the pantry at Luce's feet revealed where Bill had gone. He seemed to be sending her some kind of signal, only she had no idea what it was. Bill probably wanted her to keep her mouth shut, but what was he going to do, come out and stop her? A sheen of sweat was visible on Roland's brow. Are we alone, Lucinda?

Absolutely.

He cocked his head at her and waited. I don't feel that we are.

The only other presence in the room was Bill. How could Roland sense him when Arriane had not?

Look, I'm really not the girl you think I am, Luce said again. I am a Lucinda, but I--I'm here from the future--it's hard to explain, actually. She took a deep breath. I was born in Thunderbolt, Georgia ... in 1992.

"Oh." Roland swallowed. Well, well. He closed his eyes and started speaking very slowly: And the stars in the sky fell to the earth, like figs blown off a tree in a gale ...

The words were cryptic, but Roland recited them soulfully, almost like he was quoting a favorite line from an old blues song. The kind of song she'd heard him sing at a karaoke party back at Sword & Cross. In that moment, he seemed like the Roland she knew back home, as if he'd slipped out of this Victorian character for a little while.

Only, there was something else about his words. Luce recognized them from somewhere. What is that? What does that mean? she asked.

The cupboard rattled again. More loudly this time.

Nothing. Roland's eyes opened and he was back to his Victorian self. His hands were tough and callused and his biceps were larger than she was used to seeing them. His clothes were soaked with sweat against his dark skin. He looked tired. A heavy sadness fell over Luce.

You're a servant here? she asked. The others--Arriane--they get to run around and ... But you have to work, don't you? Just because you're--

Black? Roland said, holding her gaze until she looked away, uncomfortable. Don't worry about me, Lucinda. I've suffered worse than mortal folly. Besides, I'll have my day.

It gets better, she said, feeling that any reassurance she gave him would be trite and insubstantial, wondering if what she said was really true. People can be awful.

Well. We can't worry about them too much, can we? Roland smiled. What brought you back here, anyway, Lucinda? Does Daniel know? Does Cam?

Cam's here, too? Luce shouldn't have been surprised, but she was.

If my timing's right, he's probably just rolled into town.

Luce couldn't worry about that now. Daniel doesn't know, not yet, she admitted. But I need to find him, and Lucinda, too. I have to know--

Look, Roland said, backing away from Luce, his hands raised, almost as if she were radioactive. You didn't see me here today. We didn't have this talk. But you can't just go up to Daniel--

I know, she said. He'll freak out.

Freak out?' Roland tried out the strange-sounding phrase, almost making Luce laugh. If you mean he might fall in love with this you--he pointed at her--then yes. It's really quite dangerous. You're a tourist here.

Fine, then I'm a tourist. But I can at least talk to them.

No, you can't. You don't inhabit this life.

I don't want to inhabit anything. I just want to know why--

Your being here is dangerous--to you, to them, to everything. Do you understand?

Luce didn't understand. How could she be dangerous? I don't want to stay here, I just want to know why this keeps happening between me and Daniel--I mean, between this Lucinda and Daniel.

That's precisely what I mean. Roland dragged his hand down his face, gave her a hard look. Hear me: You can observe them from a distance. You can--I don't know--look through the windows. So long as you know nothing here is yours to take.

But why can't I just talk to them?

He went to the door and closed and bolted it. When he turned back, his face was serious. Listen, it is possible that you might do something that changes your past, something that ripples down through time and rewrites it so that you--future Lucinda--will be