Page 27 of The Heiress in Disguise
For a moment, his eyes locked with hers, and Angelique felt as if her blood had turned to fire. She couldn’t have looked away from him even if she had wanted to.
But what was he doing staring atherlike that? None of the guests had looked her way so far. She had counted on the fact that they wouldn’t, for what could they possibly want to see up here?
Even if they did happen to glance up, their gazes shouldn’t have lingered. She was only a servant—a complete unknown. She should have faded into the scenery. There was nothing about her that should stand out to this gentleman, or to any other guest.
And yet, he was staring at her as if he had expected to see her here—and she was staring back, utterly captivated by him.
A hand grabbed her shoulder. Jane pulled her back, away from the balcony. “Are you mad?” she hissed. “Anyone could see you, leaning out there like that! Anyone could look up at any time. Have you forgotten about caution entirely?”
She had, of course, and that fact alone was enough to startle her. “I’d better go,” she said quickly, and hurried away toward the servants’ quarters.
But once she was downstairs, she didn’t go to the kitchen. Instead, she lingered in the narrow passage that would lead her there, leaning against the wall and trying to catch her breath. What a dire mistake that had been! If one of her family had decided to look up—if they had seen that gentleman staring and had wondered what he was looking at—things would have ended very badly for Angelique, and she knew it.
So why couldn’t she seem to regret what she had done? She knew that she should feel ashamed of having lingered on the balcony, that she should be reprimanding herself for having done it—but it didn’t even feel like a mistake. She was happy she’d done what she had. She thought again about the gentleman’s dark eyes and felt a shiver of pleasure.
She closed her own eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
“Are you all right, Angelique?”
Her eyes flew open, and she turned toward the voice.
There he stood—in the servants’ corridor, where no guest ought to be. He was staring at her again, and she felt both exposed and excited.
“You shouldn’t be here, my lord,” she managed.
And then, with a shock, she realized what he had said to her.
“What did you call me?” she whispered, wondering if she could possibly have misheard him.
“I called you Angelique,” he said.
“You’re mistaken, my lord,” she stammered. “My name is Ella.”
“I know who you are,” the gentleman said, his eyes fixed steadily upon her. “You don’t have to lie to me, Angelique.”
“I—I’m not lying.”
“It’s all right,” the gentleman said. “I know it’s really you. I know you’ve been compelled to use a name that isn’t your own. But you don’t have to pretend here—now, with me. You can tell the truth, and I promise you that nothing bad will happen.”
Angelique opened her mouth, unsure of what she meant to do. Was she really considering telling him this thing that she hadn’t said aloud to anyone in years? She didn’t even know this man. How could she possibly be honest with him about her identity, the one thing she had always been warned on pain of punishment to keep a secret?
But as strange as it was, shewantedto tell him. Something about the way he was looking at her made her want to open up to him and be honest with him.
“I—” she began, still unsure of what she was going to do.
But she heard the sound of footsteps and voices approaching. Her eyes went wide. “You have to go!” she hissed. “You can’t be seen back here! It will be trouble for us both if you are!”
The gentleman hesitated for a moment, but perhaps he understood the wisdom in her words. He gave her a quick nod. “Very well,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you later, then, Angelique.”
The sound of her name on his lips was thrilling in a way she didn’t know how to explain—but there was no time to think about it. She hurried away to the kitchen, where at least it would be safe for her to be discovered, if anyone came looking.
Her heart pounded as she scrubbed her hands and tied on an apron, readying herself to help with the food preparations. What did this mean? Who was that mysterious gentleman, and how could he possibly have known her true identity?
He looked too young to have known her parents well—he seemed closer to her own age. And she was sure she had nevermet him before. There didn’t seem to be any good explanation for it, and Angelique didn’t know what to think.
The only thing she knew for sure was that if her aunt and uncle were to discover what had happened, she would be in severe trouble. They would assume it was her fault somehow, that she had allowed the secret to slip. As if on cue, she felt the phantom sting of the lash on the backs of her legs again. She didn’t believe they would strike her now that she was grown, and she’d meant what she had said to Jane—if they tried it, she would walk away.
Still, she feared trouble. Perhaps it would be best if she simply avoided that gentleman for the rest of the evening. It shouldn’t be hard to do since she wasn’t permitted to go among the guests anyway.
