He shakes his head. “Not at all. I want to hear more about you and Bea.”
I let out a short laugh I lean back into the wall. “I’m not sure I believe that.”
“You should,” he replies. I can tell that he means what he says, and I don’t know how to respond to it. A few seconds pass until he speaks again. “May I ask you something?”
“Are you looking for more rabbit tips? Because if you are, you’ve come to the right place.”
Another smile. Another warm feeling in my stomach. And other places. “Not at the moment,” he tells me, taking a breath before he goes on. “Yesterday, when I came upon you in the hall... when we stood, you told me your name was Lily. Why was that?”
Shit.
I immediately tense up. The collar of my dress feels itchy. When I first spoke to Simon in the hall yesterday, I thought I was in the midst of an involuntary cosplay session. I wasn’t careful with my words, and now I have to clean up my verbal mess.
“It’s an old nickname,” I say, probably too quickly. “I love lilies, so that’s what some people called me. When I hit my head, it must have brought the memory back.”
My heart freezes. It’s a desperate explanation, but hopefully it’s believable. A faint smile pulls at Simon’s lips as the glint in his eyes tells me that he knows I’m leaving something out. I’m almost expecting him to confront me about it, but all he says is “It’s a pretty name.”
I can barely hide my sigh of relief. Simon watches me, his eyes still searching. I want to know what he sees.
“What are you thinking?” I ask him.
His gaze eases as he pivots slightly, opening my view up to the rest of the party. “I’m thinking that you’re very different from who I thought you were.”
My breath catches at his words. I shouldn’t be happy. If I’m different, then I’m not doing a good enough job at being Catherine. But I also can’t fight the satisfaction I feel at his potentially seeing or sensing me and not her. At least a little bit.
“You’re different, too,” I say, attempting to cover my tracks. “I’m actually glad you brought it up because now I don’t have to feel bad when I tell you that you also seem extremely different.”
Simon smiles as he takes another drink. “Am I? In what way?”
“I think it’s the hair. Your hair is much browner today, and it has a shine to it. It’s very healthy, though. Good for you.”
He quietly chuckles at my obvious lie. “A sweet face and a jesting wit. The first, you’re famous for. The second is a surprise.”
His assertion matches what Bartholomew and William implied, that people see Catherine’s beauty before all else—if they even see anything else at all.
“Maybe I always had a jesting wit but chose to keep it a secret.” My tone is teasing but also defensive.
“It would seem so,” Simon answers. Then he drops his voice a little. “Is this our first secret, then?”
For some reason, my eyes shift to his hand where he’s holding his cup. It’s calloused, probably from all the training he mentioned, but still inviting. Like it’s equally capable of eliciting good screams and bad screams. Bad ones for his competitors. Good ones for... not me. definitely not me.
“I guess it is,” I tell him. I turn my eyes up and promptly deem his hands a visual no-fly zone.
His shoulders tilt back toward me, subtly turning enough that I can feel how close we are, and I lean into the sensation. “Should we keep another?” he asks.
My own hand fidgets along the material of my dress as my brain buzzes in uncertain anticipation. I’m about to answer when Bessie suddenly arrives beside me, clearing her throat with the subtlety of someone who is violently choking to death, prompting Simon and I to break apart to a more formal distance.
“Am I interrupting?” she says once she’s simmered down.
I twist my body to face her, turning Simon’s and my quiet exchange into a group circle. “You’re not interrupting at all. Simon, have you met Bessie?”
“I have,” he says with a courteous bow. “It’s a pleasure to see you this evening.”
Bessie curtsies and glances between us with a coy glint in her eyes. “I didn’t realize you two were so closely acquainted.”
Really, Bessie?
“We’re not closely acquainted,” I clarify. “He just helped me yesterday when I fainted in the hall.”
