One Moonlit Night (Moonlight Square: A Prequel Novella) by Gaelen Foley Page A

live under the same roof but…he would never love me. Not the way that I’d love him, with everything I’ve got.
    No, I couldn’t bear it.
    “So, there you are,” a droll voice said. “What is going on in here, dare I ask?”
    She opened her eyes and found Gable leaning in the doorway, looking debonair, and studying her in amusement.
    “Are we hiding?” he inquired.
    “No,” she said, though not too convincingly. “We’re just taking a break. And drinking.” She reached for the bottle and topped off her glass again. “Lots of drinking.”
    “Well, you shouldn’t drink alone. Can I join the party?”
    “Of course you may, dear fellow. But only if you don’t try to make me put my shoes back on.” She straightened both legs until her bare feet peeked out from underneath the hem of her gown. “See?”
    He flashed a roguish grin as he joined her in the narrow pantry. “Put those darling things away before I bite them.”
    “Ew! You’re mad.”
    “I mean it.”
    “I suppose you probably do, knowing you.” Laughing, she offered him the bottle. He grasped it by the neck and took a swig, then loosened his cravat. “Mmm, that’s good. What is it, a Riesling?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know, but I warn ye, it goes down easy,” she declared, slurring ever so slightly.
    He leaned against the cabinets in an idle pose and studied her in amusement. He smelled good, she thought as she inhaled the enticing scent of his cologne in the close confines of the pantry, then she let out a sigh and rubbed the back of her neck.
    “So what did you want, anyway? Did they need me for something again?” She paused and frowned. “Did my mother send you to find me?”
    “What, you think I’m a spy for the enemy? Now I’m offended.”
    She grinned at his jest. “Actually, I came to give you a round of applause for what you said to my father.” A look of rich satisfaction crept across his chiseled face as he set the bottle on the cabinet and began clapping slowly for her. “God, that was utterly delicious.”
    She let out a gleeful laugh and swung her feet. “Wasn’t it, though? You’re very welcome, my friend! Somebody had to stand up to him.”
    “Hear, hear. He didn’t know what hit him.”
    “Unfortunately, I don’t think I made a very good impression.” She giggled again, and Gable grinned.
    “Ah, don’t worry. He finds fault with everyone.”
    “I really don’t know what came over me. Must’ve been the wine talking.”
    “Well, I thought it was your finest moment—and you have a lot of those.” He toasted her with the bottle, and they both took another swallow, then lapsed into a brief, companionable silence.
    “So how are you?” he murmured, eyeing her shrewdly.
    “Worn out ,” she said. “I had no idea that getting a sister married off would be such a grueling ordeal. Do you realize I’ll still have to go through this four more times over the years? For Martha, Gwendolyn, Betsy, and Jane. All this effort for a mere few hours! Honestly, if it were me, I’d rather elope.”
    “Me too,” he agreed.
    “Not that it matters,” she reminded him with a pointed look.
    He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Well, congratulations anyway, love. You survived it.”
    “Thank you,” she replied, and took another swallow of wine.
    “Are you sure you’re all right?” he persisted in a diplomatic tone a few seconds later. “I saw you crying earlier today. I was worried. I hate it when you cry.”
    She looked at him in surprise. “Everybody cries at weddings. Don’t they?”
    He merely arched a brow, studying her.
    “I’m fine! Those were tears of happiness, I swear.”
    “Is that why you’re in here getting drunk?” he asked softly.
    “Oh, leave me alone,” she mumbled with a scowl. “I never said I was perfect.”
    “Imperfection is one of your dearest qualities. Talk to me,” he cajoled her.
    “What is there to say?” she burst out. “I’m already…overloaded! My heart hurts from