Nadine was watching him with an anxious expression. His jaw tightened at the thought of her wandering. There was no telling what would happen if he let her continue alone through the darkened halls. “Come with me,” he said decisively.
“Where are we going?”
“The kitchen.”
If it got back to his family—his father especially—that he’d slipped away with a girl, there would be questions. Recriminations. But he could deal with all of that later. He was enjoying her company. She was like a little spark of flame caught within the gloom of this house, and he wanted to cup his hand around her, to enjoy that flickering warmth without seeing it extinguished like a candle.
She followed him gamely enough, looking at the wallpaper, the family portraits. Her eyes lingered especially on the various paintings and photographs. Cal braced himself for questions that didn’t come. There were thoughts whirring inside that pretty head of hers but she seemed disinclined to share them. What did she make of them all? An eccentric old family, hopelessly married to the old ways? Or did she suspect something far more sinister?
The kitchen was filled with roses, which bloomed on every available surface. Cal shoved some aside with a frown before throwing open the window a crack to ease some of the cloying sweetness. Strains of music floated in, peppered with the chatter of nearby guests.
“We don’t usually eat in here,” Cal said. “Except during mornings.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re not a vegan, are you?”
“Uh, no.” She sat down at the kitchen table at a slight angle, facing him. “Just my sister. She’s vegan. For me, single ingredients are best. Cheese, fruit, unseasoned meat. I’m allergic to corn and it’s, um, well, in everything.”
“Pity you’re not the one marrying into the family.” The words slid out of his mouth with alarming ease and he saw herstiffen in the corner of his eye. “Ben’s going to want to take her hunting at some point.”
“Noelle doesn’t hunt. She doesn’t even hike. She SoulCycles.”
Cal breathed out a laugh. “Hasn’t she heard that old saying—hunt or be hunted?”
“I think it’s kill or be killed,” she said innocently. “And no, that is so not her wheelhouse.”
“Well, in this house, it will be. There’s even a hunting festival in town. You just missed it—it’s called The Running of the Deer. For generations, my family has been importing deer and letting them loose in the woods every summer. For a whole day, people come from all over to hunt what they can carry. The town flourishes with venison for months.”
“Why?”
“Why not? Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god.”
She made a face, giving a brief flash of the rebellion he’d glimpsed from her on his mother’s tour when she’d sparred playfully with her sister. “Is that from the bible?”
“No. It’s Greek. How do you like the prosciutto? We make it ourselves on the estate.”
“Really? You do?”
“Yes, in the cellar. It’s just below here. That’s why this room is so cold, as you’ve probably noticed.” She had stopped eating, leaning over to watch him talk. It gave him a rather tantalizing view of what was underneath her dress. Had she been angling to get him alone, in her strange, shy way? “Would you like to see it? It’s rather fascinating. There’s an old furnace down there, too. Victorian. Made of solid iron.”
“N-no, thank you. I think I’ll pass.” She nudged her plate away. “It was nice of you to offer.”
You’d think me far less nice if you heard what else I have to offer you.
The music outside was drowned out by a loud, raucous cheer, fueled by alcohol and boredom. Cal glanced at the paned window and saw that the ceremony had already concluded. The bride and groom were officially married and greeting guests before setting off for their honeymoon.
“What a shame,” he said out loud. “You’ve missed the bouquet toss.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Mm, but how will you know if you’ll be next?”
Her gaze had been wandering again, distracted, but at his words she looked up quickly. A small noise escaped her lips when she realized how close he was.
Kiss me, he thought, wild and desperate.Kiss me while you still taste of wine and freedom.
She pushed back from the table, and from him, stumbling to her feet. “W-what?”
