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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, May 2011
eISBN : 978-1-101-53108-2
Copyright © Katherine Smith, 2011 All rights reserved
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The inside of the ballroom was oppressively hot and Victoria Manwell idly fanned herself, stifled by the crowd and heat. “I think I’ll go outside and get some fresh air,” she said, nodding toward the tall French doors open to the terrace and the promise of a cooler, cleaner breeze that did not reek of perfume, sweat, and stale champagne. “I thought I saw Stephen step out a second ago. Perhaps I’ll join him.”
Her aunt merely nodded, half-absorbed in listening to a bit of scintillating gossip, her plump figure firmly planted in a chair. “Don’t catch your death, dear. It’s quite chilly outside.”
The death of me, Victoria thought darkly as she attempted to edge through melee of swirling bodies with polite determination, will be to have to stay inside for another minute . Gaining the exit, she stepped out onto the flagstone terrace and inhaled a great lungful of clean air, feeling vastly relieved. The truth was, she detested parties such as these, much preferring working in her garden or curling up in bed with a good book.
Where is Stephen? she wondered, casting a look around. Other than a couple close together, whispering and leaning against the balustrade, there was no one in sight. Odd, as she’d been sure she’d seen him, dressed as always in his very severe evening clothes, easing out the very same doors just moments before.
The crisp cool evening wind wafted over her bare shoulders above the low neckline of her fashionable gown, the sensation delightful. She descended the wide steps and chose the path to her left, leaving the sounds of merriment behind. Flowers were dying in homage to the encroaching threat of winter, the roses drooping and beginning to scatter thick petals across the stones that paved the way. A familiar scent wafted upward and Victoria ran her fingers over
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