Page 65 of Reflections of Silence

“You look beautiful, madame.” Minette opened the door, ushering me through, still refusing to call me by my preferred name.

“As do you,” I smiled. Minette’s tiny curls framed her head with a blonde halo. I stepped into the hall and ran into Sebastian’s chest. “Do you have to be so close?” I grumbled, rubbing my forehead as I looked up at him.

My mouth dried as I stared at the imposing figure who reminded me of the mysterious man I had encountered on my first day in his home before I knew his name. Sebastian’s face was half-covered by a black, velvet mask, and he was dressed head to toe in black: breeches, stockings, and boots, with a short, evening cape that swirled about his shoulders as he stepped back from him.

In short, he looked like something out of a dream.

His gaze caught mine, blotting out the rest of the world.

In my periphery, Minette edged away, her feet pattering on the thick carpet as she made her escape along the hall while I froze in place, as unable to move as I had been that first day.

Sebastian brushed my chin with the lightest touch.

My bedroom. Now.

I gave a half-laugh, hiccupping. Sebastian slid a glass of champagne into my hand, the bubbles going straight to my head. I shook it; I needed to be in control of my thoughts tonight.

Do you?

“You are the highest form of temptation,” I murmured, sipping the delicate bubbles. Memories of France rushed over me, my home, my mother before I lost her. I shook the images away. No distractions were allowed tonight; none at all. We had to focus on our task.

Tilting my head back to offer some snarky remark about places and times, I made the mistake of losing myself in my husband’s fathomless gaze.

You’re not objecting, wife.

“Not tonight.”

Sebastian's hand slid around my waist, pressing against the small of my back as he drew me impossibly close. My throat closed on a breath until his strange presence enveloped me.

“Shall we?” he asked, his eyes dark beneath his mask as he surveyed me. His sinful smile promised tantalizing fantasies that crossed my mind in a montage of debauchery.

A shiver raced over my skin. He could pull off any of those acts; I knew that from first-hand experience. I nodded, unable to answer him.

Matching his steps as we moved through the hall together, I tried to concentrate on tonight’s performance, running a list through my head of everything important, already acknowledging it was too late as the guests had started to arrive.

The silence of the upper floor clashed with a murmur from below that grew in volume with every step.

We reached the top of the stairs to find a steady line of people entering the ballroom from the foyer door. Chatter filled the lower levels of the house. I inhaled slowly, subduing the desire to race back to my room and close the door. Lock it, maybe. I sipped my champagne then on impulse drained the glass, leaving it on a side table.

Guests in costumes and finery mingled around columns dressed in Sebastian’s colors. New Orleans rose to the moment for our masquerade ball.

Combined with the sense of impending disaster that encompassed me, it was all a little too overwhelming. I flapped about for Sebastian’s hand with an edge of desperation, needing to anchor to something solid. He held out his arm, and I clung to it.

Breathe, Gella. It will be over soon. You don’t have to do anything.

But you…will.

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced my feet forward. The illusion of solitude fell away, the crowd rushing back with a roar that drew an ache from the back of my head. I rubbed it, something niggling there.

“Easy for you to say, when you’ve had a target from an ancient hedge witch painted on your behind,” I muttered.

But it’s such a lovely behind, wife. I enjoy using it for my own pleasure.

I flushed.

Sebastian laughed as we reached the bottom of the stairs. Heads turned in our direction, searching for the source and settled on us. I refused to shrink beneath all those pairs of eyes, though I desperately wanted to return to my bed—or his—and never emerge again.

At least, until they all left.

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