Blackmoore(50)

I chuckled, wiped my nose on my sleeve, and said, “That is more like it. No, thank you, Henry.”

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J u l i a n n e D o n a l D s o n He looked at me for a long moment before drawing a breath and saying, “Now for my payment.”

My heart thumped hard.

“Do you remember the day I gave you your heart’s desire?”

I shook my head. “You did not give her to me.”

“I still want to hear you call me that, by the way.”

I laughed softly. “Never.”

“Perhaps we should change the terms of our agreement. You share with me three secrets and you call me The Giver of My Heart’s Desire.”

Smiling, I shook my head. “It will never happen, Henry.”

I knew he was smiling too. He leaned on the stone wall, resting his elbows there and looking out across the trees. “The day I gave you your cat was the day you asked me not to call you Kitty.”

I nodded, solemn now.

“What happened that day?”

Taking a deep breath, I leaned on the wall next to him and let the realization of what he was asking sink into me. How did he know the questions that would pierce me so dearly? How did he guess what I most wanted to hide? I had to ask myself again whether this was worth the price.

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Chapter 19


three years BeFore


Eleanor stood beside me and pointed at the bonnet through the glass win-

dow of the shop. “That one. With the broad lace trim. In the middle.”

I inspected the bonnet in question from every available angle. “It is too dear. You would have to save up your pin money for months to afford it.”

“Mama will buy it for me.” She spoke with her characteristic, unfailing

confidence. I wondered if such assurance came from being the eldest or if it came from being Eleanor.

“She will not,” I said, but my voice carried a hint of doubt. Where

Eleanor and Mama were concerned, I had been surprised more than once.

Eleanor smiled as if she were a cat with a canary between her claws.

Leaning toward me, she lowered her voice and said, “She will when I tell her that Henry Delafield will not be able to keep his eyes off me when I wear that bonnet to the picnic next week.”

I scowled at her mention of Henry, a fierce, protective urge blazing to life within me. “Leave him be, Eleanor.”

Her smile stretched. “Do you think you’re the only one with eyes around

here?” She tilted her head to the side, studying me. “Or do you have eyes, little Kitty? Hm? Have you noticed how handsome he has grown?”

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J u l i a n n e D o n a l D s o n

My face burned. I pressed my lips together, refusing to answer her ques-

tion, because it did not deserve an answer. Just as she did not deserve Henry’s attention.

She laughed and, reaching out, pinched my cheek. “You are too serious for your own good.”

I pulled my head back and swatted her hand away. “You cannot have

Henry, Eleanor,” I said in a fierce whisper. “I will not allow you to make him into a plaything.”

Her smile fell, and her eyes grew hard, a challenging glint in them. “You will not allow me?”

I knew in that instant that I had made a terrible mistake. I tried to undo my error: I shrugged and said in a voice I forced to sound casual, “Or do play with him. Do whatever you like.”

Her smile curled back into place. “I plan to.” Her gaze shifted to some-

thing beyond my right shoulder. “Oh, look. There’s Mama now. I am going to ask her for the bonnet.” She waved, calling out “Mama,” but I did not look.

I stared at the cobblestone street and fought the resentment that threatened to consume me.

“What is it, Eleanor?” Mama was annoyed. It was apparent in her

voice. But before Eleanor could say more than, “Do you not think this bonnet will—” a new voice joined the conversation.

“Mrs. Worthington.” It was a man’s voice, and it was rich with secrets.

I looked up sharply and moved closer to Eleanor, who had pulled away

from Mama and shut her mouth quickly. He was tall and young and wore a

red officer’s coat. And Mama was looking at him in the same way she looked at the gentlemen who came to dinner.

“Who is he?” I whispered to Eleanor.

She lifted one shoulder and whispered back, “Her latest flirt. She hasn’t told me his name.”

The man did not look at either me or Eleanor. In fact, he appeared to

have eyes only for Mama as he stood close to her and smiled. “It has been too long since we last saw each other. How have you been?”

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I glanced around quickly to see if anyone else was watching them. Eleanor shifted so that between the two of us, Eleanor’s parasol, and the wall of the store, Mama could hardly be seen by any passerby. I waved my fan furiously and nodded, wearing a broad smile, pretending the man was addressing all of us.

Mama laughed and murmured something too quiet for me to hear. Then

the man said, loudly enough that my face burned, “You are much too coy, my kitten.”

I fanned all the harder and grinned like a fool, but inside I had to fight the urge to retch. Eleanor leaned closer to me and murmured, “He must be half her age.” I looked at her sharply, sure I must have imagined the admiration I heard in her voice. But, no—it gleamed in her eyes as well, and in that moment it became clear to me that Eleanor saw in this spectacle not something to be disgusted by but something to aspire to.