Susan removes her trembling hand from her reddened cheek and turns to the closest neighbor. The young lady glances down, unfocusing her eyes as if she doesn’t register Susan’s presence. Susan appeals to the next person, then the next, and the next.
One by one, they each turn away.
Evangeline jerked her hand back to her side. Susan’s face fell.
“No more parties?” she asked dejectedly. “I told you Lioncroft was my last chance.”
“Inconclusive,” Evangeline said weakly. “Please tell me the horrific set-down you received from Francine Rutherford was in the past, not the future.”
“Was it at an opera house? Then, yes.” Susan turned and started across the grass. “That would be the start of the little gossip scandal I mentioned. I’d glimpsed her cavorting with someone other than her better half. And then I told people who it was.”
Evangeline ran to catch up. “Angels above, Susan. It looked like you ruined lives.”
“I know. I even managed to ruin my own.” She walked faster. “I don’t really wish to discuss the bad behavior in my past. I’m not like that any more. Shall we fly kites now?”
After a moment, Evangeline nodded and followed Susan to a patch of grass where a few kites remained unclaimed.
“You know,” Evangeline said as Susan picked a yellow one from the pile. “I imagine Mr. Lioncroft doesn’t enjoy the constant reminders of the bad behavior in his past, either.”
Susan whirled to face her. “I said Iknow. And you know what elseIdon’t enjoy? The constant reminders of how much better you think you are than everybody else, and how you always think you have the right answer and forever know to do the right thing. If you think you’d be the perfect wife for Lionkiller,you can have him. He’s heading right for us, anyway. And I’m bloody sure he’s not huntingme.”
“He doesn’t seeme,” Evangeline said, palms outstretched. “He just sees my Gift. Everybody does. As soon as they learn the truth, I cease being Evangeline and start being The Girl With The Visions. I will never get to be a normal person. You had it all, and you just—”
But Susan had already stalked off, kite in hand, without another word.
Chapter 29
“Why didn’t you sit with me?”
Damn. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say.
Miss Pemberton turned, slowly, slowly, until at last she stared up at him from under those dark curling lashes. It was all Gavin could do not to shake her, kiss her, then toss her over his shoulder, and escape into his house.
“That is,” he began, then stopped. There was really no way to unsay what he’d just said, so what use was artifice? “I saved the spot for you,” he admitted. “I had hoped for your company.”
A strange look flitted across her face. “Didn’t you enjoy Susan’s?”
“Whatisit, today?” Gavin demanded. “You ask about her, she asks about you—”
“Susan asked about me?”
The question was innocent enough, but something in Miss Pemberton’s expression was off.
“When I said I wouldn’t—oh, never mind.” Gavin knelt before the few remaining kites. “It’s not important.”
She knelt beside him. “About the portraiture, you mean?”
His jaw clenched. “Why did you ask me, if you already knew?”
“Why did you say painting was unimportant?” She slanted him a sideways look. “If you filled an entire mansion with canvases of your own creation, it’s clearly important.”
“Fine. I like landscapes. Pick up a kite.” Gavin rose to his feet.
“What?” She tilted her head toward him, still kneeling, her upturned face even with the buttons of his fall.
“Choose a kite, Miss Pemberton.” He swallowed. If she leaned forward any closer, her lips would graze his suddenly uncomfortable breeches. “Please.”
“Why?”
