Alex met her eyes with a solemn stare. “I hereby vow I will protect you from any and all nonsense.”
She grinned in return. “I believe you.”
Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, the pair left the library and returned to the ballroom. He led her back to the dance floor, where they joined the throng moving in time to the music. Fern lost herself in easy conversation with Alex. She never found discourse pleasant, and yet with him the words came effortlessly. He spoke about being a student at Oxford, about his dreams of studying at the London School of Economics and earning a post with the government. She told him about playing piano, her favorite symphonies, and her discomfort around strangers.
“You seem perfectly calm with me.” He squeezed her hand playfully.
“You’re not a stranger,” she replied, then flinched.
“I just met you tonight,” he responded, his hand gently pulling her closer until they were nearly flush in their embrace.
Fern leaned forward. Despite the crush of people, she felt perfectly safe with Alex, as though he had wrapped a cocoon around her. They moved to the music in something resembling a waltz but was far too intimate to be classified as such. The world around them blurred and her eyelids drooped closed. She never wanted to leave his arms.
Alex pulled back from her and she became aware the music had stopped. “Are you all right?” he said, watching her dazed face with a slight frown.
She blinked at him as her lips quirked into a smile. Had she ever smiled so much before? “Yes, a bit overheated is all.”
He took her hand and led her off the dance floor. “Can I take you out on the terrace?”
The pair passed through open doors onto the wide terrace her mother had turned into an extension of her lavish gardens. Massive stone planters divided the space into smaller alcoves, and trellised hyacinth, honeysuckle, and rose bushes created the illusion of privacy. The night was unusually warm for April, and the air hung thick with the perfume of flowers and the crisp scent of grass.
What is happening to me?she thought as Alex slipped his hand into hers, leading her away from the crowds and behind a trellis of climbing clematis. Her heart pounded as her mother’s warnings about propriety rang in her ears. The danger, the threat of discovery sent an unexpected thrill through her, her thoughts scattering. She never wanted to disappoint her mother, but she never felt likethisbefore.
“You’re nervous,” Alex said, dropping her hand. “Is it something I’ve done?”
Her breath caught. “No, well, yes, but, in a good way.” Alex raised one eyebrow, a smile playing on his full lips. “We shouldn’t be here alone like this.”
His eyes widened, and he took a step back, turning back to the party. “I apologize, I thought, because you said you don’t like crowds, that it—”
Fern grabbed his hand and pulled him forward until he stood a few inches in front of her, so close she could see his chest rising and falling quickly under his jacket. She laced her fingers with his. “I don’t want to go back.”
He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet before looking into her eyes. “Now I know that I am being too forward, but I have to ask. May I kiss you?”
She couldn’t even speak. Fern had never kissed anyone. The mere concept of kissing turned Fern’s stomach. It had to be wet, slimy, and simply too uncomfortable for her taste.
But looking at Alex and the way he gazed at her, the excitement coursing through her veins, she was desperate to try, bobbing her head in the slightest nod of agreement. She felt the pressure of his lips, so feather-light she was unsure if he had actually touched her. She leaned into his touch further, keeping her fingers laced with his. Alex brought his free hand to cup her neck, grounding her as her heart threatened to burst from her chest. The pressure of his lips deepened against hers and she released a shaky sigh of pleasure. She was warm and cold ad sparkling, like electricity flowed through her. Fern never wanted it to end.
But all good things must end. She heard the tolling bells of the nearby chapel, followed by squeals of delight from inside the ballroom. It was midnight. Time to unmask.
Alex smiled against her lips. He pulled back and untied his mask, letting it drop from his face. One side of his mouth lifted nervously, as though waiting for her approval. She touched his cheek gently, stroking her fingers along his cheekbones. “You’re so beautiful,” she said, then winced at her admission.
He shook his head and chuckled bashfully. “Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He leaned in towards her again, his breath mingling with hers. His fingers pulled at the pink silk ribbon holding her mask in place as his lips danced against hers. He would pull back and see her, see the face he knew asFern, not Rose. She couldn’t bear seeing his face, knowing she had deceived him.
As he began to lift the mask from her face, Fern twisted away from him and darted out of their secluded hideaway. “Miss Rose, wait!” she heard him call, but she did not hesitate. She pushed her way past the laughing guests, desperate to reach the stairs and then her bedroom.
Fern wrenched her way past a group of her mother’s friends and collided with her sister. “Fern!” Rose’s brows raised as she assessed her twin.
“I need to get upstairs, now!” Fern gasped. Rose grabbed Fern’s hand and led her down the servants’ hallway, pulling her up the back stairs and into Rose’s bedroom. Fern collapsed on the bed, pulling her fingers through her hair, scattering pins as she pulled the locks in front of her face.
“My god, Fern,” Rose sat at her twin’s side and pulled her hands from her hair. “What happened?”
Fern’s stomach filled with lead. “Rose,” she whispered, tears beginning to fall. “I’ve done something terribly wrong.”
“She’s not here,” Henry said for what must have been the seventeenth time.
“She has to be here, she lives here!” Alex retorted as he raked his hand through his disheveled hair.
Henry sighed and put his hands on his hips. “She must have gone to bed as everyone else has. Like you should be. Come along, man, we need to leave before Roland gets himself into more trouble.” A game of piquet had ended poorly for their friend, and now he owed several lords more sizable sums than he could easily produce on his allowance. Despite the urgency, Alex was not budging.
