Katherine’s breath caught, her eyes widening as he stopped just a hair’s breadth from her lips. His eyes held hers, and for one glorious moment, she forgot anything else existed in the world but her and him. Even with her spectacles gone, she saw his face clearly; neither the stripe of black cloth across his face nor the nighttime enveloping them could hide the warmth in his eyes, holding her gaze with such intensity.
Then his lips touched hers, and tingles ran down her spine as she stepped into his embrace. His arms came around her, and Katherine rested her hands on his chest, allowing only one final jolt of surprise to pass through her mind before she lost herself in the feel of his kiss.
Her mask, still in place, poked at her cheeks, but Katherine didn’t notice it as the embrace deepened, sweeping her into sensations she’d all but given up hope of feeling. Her heart felt so light that she might blow away, and tears pricked in her eyes. If not for the energy thrumming through her at his touch, her legs might just very well give out on her at the thought that Mr. Archer cared for her.
This was all she’d ever wanted. All she’d ever hoped. All hesitancy was gone. Though some quiet concern in the back of her mind wondered if she was doing it properly, Katherine reveled in the feel of him surrounding her, and the ardor leaching from his touch that couldn’t be feigned. And he felt it for her!
Her arms rose and drew around his neck, and she tried to convey all the things she’d never dared to say. How much he meant to her. How his friendship sustained her. How she valued the time they spent together.
Her Mr. Archer.
Footsteps against the pavers forced Katherine’s eyes open, and she drew back. Mr. Archer leaned in once more, but she pressed against his chest and listened.
“David?” called someone from the far side of the courtyard.
Katherine stiffened at the sound of his sister’s voice (though she couldn’t say which one it was), and though she tried to step away, Mr. Archer's gaze was fixed upon her as he leaned in. She opened her mouth to say something, but he captured her in another kiss, and Katherine’s muscles slackened once more as she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
It was a dangerous thing to do. She knew it. However, logic couldn’t penetrate her fogged mind—not when Mr. Archer was so enamored that he hadn’t noticed the interruption. Intoxicated with her! The thought that Katherine Leigh could catch any man’s eye seemed impossible, but for someone like David Archer to be so enchanted that he was deaf and blind to the world around him was too thrilling to allow something as silly as logic to ruin the moment.
*
David Archer was a fool. For all that they’d teased each other about his flirtatious past (harmless though it may have been), he couldn’t help the guilt twisting his heart as he reveled in his Mystery Lady’s kiss. Her comments and tentative movements made it clear she was unpracticed, and for all that the others had been diverting in their way, at this moment, he rather wished to erase that entire history.
But then he wouldn’t know just how special this embrace was.
The others had been merely touches of skin, but this felt as though she reached into his chest and plucked out his heart. The sensation was strange, and David didn’t know what to do with it, for just as he didn’t believe in soulmates, he detested the idea of love at first sight. It was lust masquerading as something more meaningful; one could not feel true affection without knowing a person.
Yet how else could he describe what bound them together? Did he love this Mystery Lady? A few hours of conversation and a couple of fevered kisses surely wasn’t enough to build a strong foundation for that sentiment, but neither could David dismiss this as mere affection.
Did she feel the same way? With no comparison, how could she recognize the remarkable connection they shared? Had David ever felt this electricity coursing along his nerves, he would never have made it to seven and twenty without marrying, and his heart pounded against his ribs, begging him to hold fast to her.
But then she was pushing him away again as she whispered, “Someone is coming.”
“Let them come,” he replied, leaning in once more.
The Mystery Lady pressed a hand to his chest and glanced over her shoulder at the intruder. David cursed the person to perdition, but that anger allowed his thoughts to clear enough to recognize the prudence of her action. Blast it all!
Yet still, he longed to cast it all aside and sweep her into his arms again. What did it matter if they were caught together? He didn’t plan on cutting ties with her any time soon. Or ever.
“Are you here?” called Irene from somewhere behind the shrubs. “Mama is not feeling well, and we need to leave.”
David rested his hands on the Mystery Lady’s hips, but she kept looking over her shoulder, and he was vaguely aware of his sister calling for him, drawing ever closer.
“Until tomorrow,” whispered the Mystery Lady, pressing a quick buss to his lips.
His foggy thoughts had him nodding, and David let her go as she slipped away and ducked behind the shrub at his back. Reality sent a jolt of realization that cleared his muddled mind, and David scoured the shadows.
“What do you mean?” he whispered into the night, turning on his heel to search the darkened garden for any sign of her. “Tomorrow? I—”
“There you are,” said Irene, swooping in and taking his arm. Pulling him back to the ball, she echoed her previous words. “Mama needs to leave.”
David wanted to call out to the garden and demand the lady’s name, but when he shook off his sister’s hold and looked behind the shrub he’d thought the lady was hiding behind, he found nothing.
His Mystery Lady was gone.
Chapter 8
On bad days, people called Katherine Leigh dour. On good ones, they said sensible, which sounded like an improvement, but not when that word was only tossed out like a crumb of kindness when one could think of nothing better. It was not the pinnacle to which people aspired. No, they preferred “attractive,” “intelligent,” “creative,” or any number of enviable traits.
