Because We Belong (Because You Are Mine 3)

“Because after my mother died, after I found out about Trevor Gaines, I had never felt more dark standing next to your brilliance, never so hollow beside your fullness,” he said in a quiet, pressured voice. “My leaving had nothing to do with you, Francesca. Nothing. It was about me, trying to figure out who the hell I am. What the hell I am. I still don’t know . . . and I don’t deserve you until I do.”

“You’re Ian Noble, no different than you were before you found out about that foul man,” she grated out. Her eyes burned, but she didn’t want to blink lest she spill tears. “And that’s not an answer, what you just gave me.”

In the distance, she heard heels tapping on the Great Hall marble floor and a woman talking as though giving instructions.

“I’m sorry. It’s the only answer I have,” Ian said bleakly before he dropped his hands, grabbed his drink, and walked toward the fireplace. He set his glass on the mantel and faced the door just as Anne entered the room with a maid.

“Ian,” Anne said in surprise. “You’re down early.”

“We were confused about the time,” Ian said as Anne approached and he leaned down to kiss her cheek in greeting.

“We?” Anne asked, glancing around.

Francesca walked out of the shadows at the edge of the room. Anne’s eyes went wide in pleasant surprise as Francesca greeted her. She mentally damned the maid when she chose that moment to switch on a lamp. Anne’s animated expression fell when she noticed the strained quality of Francesca’s smile and her damp eyes.

* * *

Lisle Gravish was a nice-looking but fussy man of about thirty-five whose affected accent and pretentious jokes abraded Francesca’s already raw nerves. His wife, Amy, defied all English stereotypes with her perfect beauty queen smile, exotic, curling jet-black hair, and the curves of an Italian film goddess. It looked as if a display case from Cartier had exploded on her, she glistened so greatly with diamonds. She combined all this glamour and beauty with talent. Apparently she was a gifted opera singer. Francesca wondered irritably as she watched Amy flirt outrageously with Ian during dinner if she’d begun to sprout those amazing breasts while they’d still been in primary together. Ian didn’t necessarily reciprocate the flirtation, but he did occasionally smile. Ian’s full-out smiles were so rare, and so brilliant, that in Francesca’s opinion, they were the equivalent of another man’s hotly whispered indecent proposal.

Perhaps that extra dash of jealousy added to her already chaotic mix of emotions was what made her careless in her interactions with Gerard, who sat next to her during dinner. She hadn’t realized how distracted she’d been, failing to send up red flags as they talked quietly together. Things finally pierced her distraction when Gerard leaned close to her and spoke near her ear as they waited for the main course to be cleared.

“You have yet to wear the diamond choker I gave you.”

“That’s because I plan to return it. I told you it was too much,” she murmured softly, keeping her face forward because Gerard’s lips were barely an inch from the side of her head.

“Hold on to it for a bit. You might change your mind,” he said silkily, his breath causing her hair to stir and tickle her ear. “Not that I’m complaining about your not wearing jewelry tonight. A wise woman knows that no decoration is necessary to complement absolute perfection.”

She glanced across the table and saw Elise’s wide-eyed, comical stare. Given Elise’s amused look, she guessed Gerard was gazing down at her breasts. She grabbed her water glass, her jabbing elbow forcing Gerard to lean back in his chair. Elise suppressed a laugh and choked on her wine. Her suspicion about where Gerard had been gaping was confirmed when she noticed Ian’s stone-cold stare.

Gerard took her hand as they left the dining room.

“May I have a word in private?” he asked her. “It won’t take but a moment.” Perhaps he noticed her hesitancy. “It’s about Ian.”

She glanced behind them anxiously, but no one immediately followed them out of the dining room. Anne, James. and Lisle had already gone ahead, while the rest of them lingered in the dining room. They were momentarily alone in the Great Hall. She nodded once hesitantly and Gerard pulled her toward a private alcove that was situated behind the massive grand staircase.

“What is it?” she asked in a hushed tone, made uneasy by his secrecy given his earlier flirtation. Especially when he stood so close and leaned down over her. She realized he was striving to keep quiet, and resisted stepping back.

“Have you spoken with Ian yet? About where he’s been? About what he’s been doing? I was speaking to Anne and James, and they’re curious to know,” Gerard whispered.

“No,” she said, not thinking that Ian’s general reply of “France” counted as much of an answer at all. “But he’s given me the impression he’s going back there. He said he has unfinished business . . .” She faded off at the sound of a door opening and conversation echoing in the all. She heard heels tapping and recognized Lucien and Elise’s voices, then Amy Gravish’s laughter.

“The sitting room, correct, Ian?” Lucien asked.

“Yes,” came Ian’s deep, quiet voice.

“Unfinished business? Is he leaving soon?” Gerard asked once the sitting room door closed and the hall was quiet once again.

“I don’t know for sure,” she whispered. “You mean he hasn’t revealed any of this to you or his grandparents?”