Once the couple was out of sight, she twisted away from Locklynand snapped,“He’s gone, so you don’t have to act the jealous swain any longer.”
She intended to leave it at that, but when she would have moved to depart, he grabbed hold of her arm in a vice like grip. “Where are you heading off to in such a rush? I thought I might have a taste of what you willingly offered to Clare.I’ve certainly waited long enough.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, but the very idea of kissing Locklyn made her stomach churn. “I’m not in the mood,” she snapped.
His eyes flashed with annoyance. “That’s too bad.” He slammed his mouth down on hers and she nearly gagged when his tongue pushed into her mouth. She struggled, pushing againsthim,and finally freed herself.
“You will never do that again,” shesaid hotly,wiping her lips with the back of her hand.
He gave a smirk. “You’re almost more trouble than you’re worth,” he said in disgust. “I’m about ready to end this miserable charade.”
Fallon blinked, confused, but when she would have asked him what he meant, he turned and walked away.
Chapter Twelve
Dinnerwas an extravagant affair as countless, mouthwateringdishes were brought outand set before the guests.Fallon counted at least six courses, but it could have been sawdust for how much she enjoyed it.
If Locklyn’s presence beside her wasn’t enough to keep her on edge, Atticus and Josephine’s disturbing proximity from across the table wasworse. As much as Fallon tried to ignore them, she couldn’t stop her gaze from straying that direction. On occasion she would clash with that obsidian stare and quickly glance away, fearing that he could see the torment she was feeling inside. If eyes were the windows to the soul, no doubt her personal despair was reflected there.
Her fingers tightened around her wineglass. She had been deluding herself to imagine that Mr. Clare would ever look at her as more than someone to pass the time. She’d been naïve to believe in a fantasy that might include him. Naturally, Josephine was the right choice for a wife, for her lineage was impeccable, while Fallon herself had become a fallen woman who had given her innocence to a notorious bandit.
With a frustrated sigh,Fallonlaid down her knife and fork andgave up any further attempt attrying toconsumeher meal.
She wasn’t sure what made her glance down the crowded table. Perhaps it was because she could feel someone staring at her. She spiedamiddle-agedgentlemandressed to the nines withthick brown hairthatcomplemented his green eyes. At any other time, shewould have been embarrassed to be found observing him quite so openly,buthe had no such compunctions as his focus remained steadily on her.
Shefinally glancedaway,but continued to be unnerved by hisperusal.It was almost as if he had been trying to place her from somewhere, but she was quite sure they had never met before. Leaning over to Eliza,whohad a break in her conversation with a woman seated acrossthe table, Fallon asked, “Who is that man seated about halfway down?” Sheexplained his appearance without having to actually point directly at him.
Eliza’s gaze flickered that direction and after a moment, awareness dawned on her cousin’s face. “I want to say his name is Isaac Reading, one of the menBrendan’sfatherattended university with, but I can’t say for sure.” As an afterthought, she lifted a dainty brow. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Fallon waved a hand. She didn’t want her cousin to think there wasa reason to be concerned when Fallon was sure she was merely overreacting.
Eliza gaveher a look thatsaidshe wasn’t entirely convinced of her reply,soFallon was thankful whenherattention was captured by another guest and she couldn’t probe her further.
After dinner,Fallonreturned to the ballroom,whileher auntand Martinamoved off tospeak with somefellowmatrons,although Locklyn remained firmly at her side.However,before he could monopolize all of her time,the unnerving man from the tablewas suddenly standingbefore her.
He bowed low over her hand, although his emerald glance never wavered from her face. “I was hoping I might have the pleasure of the next set, Miss O’Malley. If yourdance card is not otherwise occupied, of course.”
Fallon eyed himwarily, wondering how he knew her name when they hadn’t even been properly introduced. Butthen,she supposed her owncuriosityhadwon out over the proprietieswhen she’d inquired after him. Thus,she offered him a tentative smile. “Not at all, Mr. Reading.I should be delighted to join you.”
His lips twitched inapparentamusement as he offered her his arm and they took to the floor among several other couples. “I see you didn’t waste any time in learningwho I was,” he murmured.
As a waltz began to play,they tooktheirpositions, but not too closethattheir proximityto one anothermight cause tongues to wag.As he began to twirl her about the floor, Fallon had to admit that he was a rather accomplished dancer, andup close, shedecidedthat he was quite a handsome man, thethreads of silver liningthemahoganyhair at his templesquite appealing. “I admit that I’m intrigued by you, Mr. Reading. The way you were staring at me during supper made me wonder ifI had done something terribly unforgiveable.”
“Not at all,” hereturned. “It’sjustthat you remindedme of someone that was very dear to me.” His gaze swept over her hair. “She had the same ebony hair that you do.”
“What was her name?”Fallon’s heart began to pound, although she wasn’t sure why, except that this man unsettled her, but not in the manner in which Atticus Clare did. That was something else entirely.
“Mary Reading.”
Fallon’s nerves eased somewhat as she shook her head. “I fear I don’t know anyone by that name.” She thought ofher mother’sportrait and what Atticus had said. “I’ve been told thatmy mother and I were very similar in appearance,buther name was Moira Burleigh.”
His smile held a touch of sadness. “I’ve heard that in this vast world everyone has a doppelgänger. Perhaps this is the case,for you are very much like Mary.Of course, she is gone now.”
Intrigued, Fallon tilted her head. “In Ireland, my grandmother used to say that spiritual twins were referred to as afetch, although sighting an apparition that resembles someone living is usually a bad omen, such as impending death.”
He gave a mock grimace. “That sounds rather grim.”
She laughed.“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable,” she returned sincerely.“I fear I’ve been told I’m too outspoken with my opinions.”
