“Whatever for?”
Kitty gave her a brittle smile. “Some solitude. Some holy spirit. Whichever comes first.”
Cynthia laughed, but it rang false. “Funny. You’ve never struck me as the devout sort.”
“Perhaps I’ve had a revelation.” Kitty’s voice was smooth, but her fingers tightened around her parasol. “Stranger things have happened.”
“Kitty,” Cynthia said, voice sharp now. “We’re meant to walk together with the rest.”
Kitty stepped off the path. “You’ll forgive me.”
Cynthia’s expression flickered—confusion, irritation, something darker. But she didn’t follow.
Kitty’s boots clicked against the worn stones as she ascended the steps and pulled open the old wooden door. It groaned slightly, but the space inside swallowed the sound whole.
Cool shadows embraced her. The scent of dust and candle wax filled her lungs like balm. She stood for a moment, eyes adjusting, heart pounding.
A shadowed figure stood motionless in the gloom, barely more than a silhouette against the dim light. She blinked, her eyes struggling to adjust—until, slowly, the darkness peeled back to reveal him.
Her breath caught.
“You.”The word slipped out before she could stop it, sharp with disbelief.“What are you doing here?”
Fifteen
“Kitty? Why aren’t you with the rest of the group?”
Norman stood just inside the old church, framed by dusty light filtering through high stained glass.
His arms were loose at his sides, but his posture was alert—as if he’d caught her doing something she wasn’t meant to do. A furrow notched between his brows, then smoothed again too quickly for her to decipher.
“I might ask you the same thing,” she said, her voice trailing up in false brightness. “Why aren’tyouwith the rest of them?”
“I was…occupied.” His tone was mild, but his gaze sharpened as it met hers.
Her pulse gave an embarrassing jolt at her own question. Why should she care where he was either way?
She glanced away, feigning interest in a crumbling column. “Where are your occupations then? Or did you just happen to wander in here?”
Norman exhaled softly through his nose. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m not. I just find it amusing that I asked first and yet here I am being interrogated like I’m the one caught sneaking communion wine.”
He smiled at that. Not a full smile, but the ghost of it. The polite version. The one he usually reserved for everyone else.
Kitty didn’t like that smile.
“I did wander in,” he said after a moment, walking toward the front pews. “But only because it was part of my occupation. Now, why did you vanish from the group to come here?”
“I didn’t vanish,” she muttered, trailing behind him. “I just walked off. There’s a difference.”
He didn’t reply right away. He stood at the front of the church, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling as though it might offer some clarity.
Light caught in his hair, turning the edges gold. His profile was maddening—quietly perfect. A hint of a five o’clock shadow, the strong line of his jaw, the slight downturn of his mouth that always made him look mildly displeased, even when he wasn’t.
She hated how easily he could look like he belonged somewhere important—and how simply glancing at his silhouette did things to her she shouldn’t be thinking about, especially not in a church.
“I asked first,” she said again, though there was no point anymore.
