having an interest in me.”
A nerve ticked in his cheek, tugging at the edge of his mouth. He stared back at her in silence until he finally said, “You speak your mind with unvarnished honesty.”
“I do not lie.”
“And yet I would be a fool to believe you.”
“You seek proof. Validation.” Her mind raced. If the roles were reversed would she believe him? Probably not. She hadn’t even believed herself until her eyes had confirmed what her mind suspected. Think. There had to be something – a piece of information she couldn’t possibly know unless she was being honest. Her mind cleared and she suddenly remembered. “Katrina was holding a letter and…” Angelica paused, tried to focus. Her brow wrinkled. “There was a ring, I believe. A gold band with leaves clasping a bright green emerald. And a scar – tiny, but visible – right between her thumb and index finger.”
“How can you know this?” His hands clasped her shoulders, shaking her slightly. Wild eyes filled with confusion bored into hers. “How can you possibly know this?”
“Because I was there. Yesterday, before the attic, for just a brief moment I was transported. I do not know how, it still seems impossible, but I was her and I was freezing to death outside while clutching a letter.”
“What did it say?” The question was slowly exhaled.
“I…” Angelica shook her head, closed her eyes, thought back. The script was a blurry haze that slowly came back into focus. “I saw what happened.” She gulped down a lungful of air. “I saw what happened. Meet me at midnight by the entrance to the east wing if you want my help.” Somehow, her hand found his. “It was signed by a friend.”
“It isn’t possible.” But his tone was different than earlier and he did not pull away from her this time. “I burned that letter myself. You cannot have seen it.”
“I know. It defies explanation.”
He stared past the side of her face, his eyes fixed on some point far in the distance. “You said you saw her.” His eyes snapped back to hers. “Last night after the attic, you told me you saw her. My wife. I thought you meant the painting but...” Incredulity pulled at his eyebrows, drawing them together until a crease appeared between them. He shook his head. “That’s not what you were referring to. Is it?
A blossom of hope bloomed inside her. “She was standing roughly two yards behind you, her hand outstretched while clasping the letter.”
“What does she want?”
“I have no idea yet, but it stands to reason that she either wants to frighten me away or seek my help.”
Swallowing, he allowed his gaze to roam the room. “Is she here now?”
“I don’t believe so.”
He clenched his jaw and nodded. For the briefest moment his hand squeezed hers, then released it. He pinched the bridge of his nose then looked at her – really looked at her until she felt her cheeks flame. Dressed in only her nightgown and reminded of all it revealed, her inhibitions returned in full force.
“You ought to get back into bed, my lady.”
Angelica scrambled back to the safety of her blankets and hastily flung them over herself. My lady. The way he’d said it… Her heart raced in response to what it implied. Once she was comfortably settled, he returned to the chair by her side and sat.
“I hope you can forgive my initial reaction to what you have told me. Instinct commanded me to treat it as a deception.” He bowed his head, allowing his black locks to fall forward over his brow. “Thank you for making me listen – for standing up to me and what you believe in. You’re brave, Angelica. Most women in your position would have run screaming from this house by now.”
“Don’t think I didn’t consider it,” she muttered with a wry twist of her lips.
He started to smile, but seemed to remember something that stopped it from fully forming. “Then why have you stayed?”
Angelica glanced across at the flowers. “Because I’m starting to think this might be where I belong.”
His eyes darkened in contrast to the gentle caress of his fingers as they tugged a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “God, I want to kiss you right now.”
Her lips parted with surprise. “Moments ago you wanted to toss me out.”
“Can you honestly blame me?”
She thought about that. Seriously. Her lips quirked. “No. I don’t suppose I can.”
Warmth, the kind that brought to mind cozy evenings spent in