A Secret Love (Cynster 5)

With a disapproving humph, Nellie left.

Alathea cradled the posy in her hands, and let all that it meant wash through her. Then she heard Mary's and Alice's voices; blinking, sniffing, she gently laid the posy back in the box and set it to one side of the table. In a daze, she finished her toilette, clasping her mother's pearls about her throat, placing the matching drops in her ears, lavishly dabbing on the countess's perfume.

"Allie? Are you ready?"

"Yes. I'm coming!" Her wits whirling, she rose. Her gaze on the posy, cradled in its delicate box, she breathed in, exhaled, then picked up her reticule and turned.

"Hurry! The coach is here!"

"I'm coming." Reaching the threshold, Alathea lingered. Her hand on the door, she looked back at the delicate box he'd used to send her his heart.

Her gaze lifted to the mirror beyond, to her own reflection.

A moment later, she blinked. Leaving the door, she re-crossed the room.

Halting before the dressing table, she picked up his note. She reread his message, then looked again at her reflection.

Her lips twisted, lifted. Tucking the note into her jewelry box, she raised her hands to her cap.

It took a moment to ease out the pins. Alathea ignored the chorus of calls wafting along the corridor. This time, her family could wait.

Laying aside the cap, she quickly unwound the posy. She wrapped the ribbon around the tight bun on the top of her head and tied it in a simple knot, the trailing ends interleaving with the surrounding curls. Fingers shaking, she separated three luscious blooms from the arrangement. By the time she'd threaded the stems into her thick hair and secured them with pins, she was smiling, her heart soaring, her face mirroring her joy.

Nellie rushed in, vase in hand, and abruptly halted. "Oh, my! Well, now! That's better!"

"Put the others in water. I have to rush." Whirling, Alathea squeezed Nellie's arm, then, breathless, ran to the door.

Brows high, Nellie watched her go, then, a broad smile wreathing her face, she bustled to the dressing table. She placed the two remaining blooms in the vase, then carefully carried it to the table beside the bed. Nellie wiped her hands and returned to the dressing table to tidy Alathea's combs and brush. She was about to turn away when the folded note poking out from Alathea's jewelry box caught her eye.

Nellie cast a glance at the door, then lifted the lid of the jewelry box and took out the note. She unfolded it, read it, then refolded it and replaced it. And chuckled delightedly. "You'll do, my lad. You'll do."

Gabriel saw his flowers in Alathea's hair the instant she appeared in the archway giving onto Lady Marlborough's ballroom. The sight transfixed him; joy, relief, and something far more primal locked his lungs. Pausing with her family at the top of the stairs, Alathea looked down, over the ballroom, but didn't immediately see him. His gaze didn't leave her as she slowly descended the broad sweep, one hand lightly skimming the balustrade as she searched the throng.

Then she saw him.

He drew breath and started toward her. His eyes didn't leave her face as he closed the distance between them; he had no recollection of those he passed as he cleaved through the crowd. He reached the newel post before her.

She descended the last steps, her gaze locked with his, pausing on the very last, higher than he, then she stepped down to the floor and angled her head so he could study the blooms.

"I couldn't carry them-you do understand?"

Triumph washed through him, a rolling wave that nearly brought him to his knees. "Your alternative is inspired." He took her hand; uncaring of any who might be watching, he carried it to his lips. His eyes held hers. "My lady."

Some magical force held them trapped, hazel drowning in hazel, so close they could sense each breath the other took, each beat of the other's heart. Neither could manage a smile.

"And about time, too, but do get a move on! There's a seat on a chaise over there I want to snare."

Alathea jumped and whirled. Gabriel looked up, into Lady Osbaldestone's black eyes. She grinned evilly and poked his arm. "Don't let me stop you in your rush into parson's mousetrap, but do get out of my way!"

They did; Lady Osbaldestone pushed past them and stumped into the throng. Gabriel turned as Alathea took his arm.

"We'd better do as she says."

Placing his hand over hers, he guided her into the already dense crowd.

"We were late," Alathea murmured. "Only by a few minutes, but it put us so far back in the queue of carriages…"

"I was beginning to wonder if something had happened…"