With One Look
sorry—"
    "You should, Victor." Sebastian smiled. "You once paid a fortune for her." "I believe I'd remember such a thing."
    "'Twas years ago, Monsieur," Mercedes explained. "As tonight, you doubled the last bid, but then left without seeing me." Her eyes lowered, her sincerity obvious. "It meant a lot to me and ... and I have thought often of your kindness since then."
    "While Victor might have forgotten," Sebastian said, "I could never forget such a beautiful young lady."
    Mercedes laughed lightly, met the blue eyes and felt an unexplainable flutter at Sebastian's open admiration. He was so handsome! With his blond curls and fine blue eyes, he looked like a perfect image of Adonis. "I'm flattered, Monsieur. Madame Charmane has asked me to extend the house hospitality to Monsieur Nolte's friend, to show her appreciation of his generosity tonight."
    Nolte, Nolte, Nolte, the name echoed through Jade's mind. Yes. She needed to find Father Nolte but he was away....
    "Ah," Sebastian inquired with a lift of brow, "just what does this hospitality include?" "Perhaps you Would care to visit the sunshine corner?"
    "The sunshine corner?" Sebastian repeated. His tone caused Victor to chuckle, roll his eyes. "That depends," Sebastian said. "Just who is the mistress of such a place?"
    "Yours truly." Mercedes curtsied, confused by her excitement. "It would be my pleasure to show you, Monsieur."
    "I will make certain of that!"
    Victor chuckled again, standing up as a man finally returned with Mary's cloak. "Sebastian, I do believe you have just met your match." Turning to Mercedes, he said, "Mercedes, you are a delight. No doubt, Sebastian will enjoy his visit to your, ah, 'sunshine corner.' "
    Mercedes thanked Victor again before she leaned over, whispering something in Jade's ear.
    Jade had spend the last minutes floating on a not unpleasant sea of warm sensations; she felt as if she could actually feel the blood moving lethargically through her limbs. The whispered words pulled her back. She nodded at Mercedes as she felt Victor's arm come around her. She did not want to move, or be changed, but she grasped that he was waiting for her to stand. She stood up, and only vaguely realized she had no sense of direction.
    Normally she spent many hours exploring a room's contours, her mathematical gift allowing her to remember the exact number of steps to the door or the dresser or a writing table, so as not to constantly depend on others. She had never been in this room. Her keen sense of direction was inhibited.
    Her legs felt unsteady....
    Then for some reason her disorientation brought a prick of amusement. She was so ridiculous! "Monsieur," she said, almost laughing, "I fear I—"
    Victor felt her falling weight and quickly bent over to catch her up in his arms. The long hair slid over his arm, falling in a thick mass halfway to the floor. He met the glassy, amused green eyes, only to realize the trick of it. Somehow she made a man imagine she was looking at him. "Just how bad off are we, Mary?"
    The question was asked as he carried her outside.
    The night air felt cool on her feverish skin, but she hardly noticed, taken by the compelling timbre of his voice. "I love your voice," she told him. "It is so rich and deep and kind...."
    She suddenly tried to think of the terrible things that had happened to her, the reasons she should be afraid, but it seemed so long ago, as if time itself had eroded its intensity. Like a distant memory. She could only think of him, the tall American, the man named Victor....
    Victor was smiling down at the lovely intoxicated creature. Seeing that his horse had yet to be brought up, he set her to her feet on the wide porch, careful to keep her close and hold her steady. He noticed the oddity of velvet slippers on her feet that matched the corset. She still seemed to stare up at him. She reached a hand up to touch the textured surface of his chin. "You are so tall," she said. "How tall?"
    "About six feet

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