Page 11 of Twice Upon a Midnight

Until it came crashing down when she whispered, “Spenser…”

The name she thought was as false as his mask. But he could never tell her his true identity. She would have laughed, and the sound would have simply killed him.

With his eyes screwed shut, he broke the embrace. He rested his forehead against hers while he caught back the breath she’d stolen, while he tamped down his attraction for her which had him wanting to do anything but stop kissing her.

“You need to go back inside now,” he said quietly. Andheneeded to find his way back to his normal life, one that didn’t include intelligent, beautiful women like Ella.

She stepped back. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m sure you’re being missed.”

At that dismissal, the wounded look on her face nearly undid him. “Do you regret spending time with me?”

“No.”God no.

“Kissing me, then?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then why—”

A loud boom reverberated through the park beyond the stone wall beside them, followed by a bright burst of red. Around them, the garden suddenly came to life with showers of sparks arching up in fountains of red and blue flames. Cheers went up from the guests who spilled out onto the terrace and down onto the lawn to watch the display.

“It’s midnight,” she explained, looking high into the sky as rockets roared overhead to strains of “Rule Britannia” played by the orchestra. Then she gave him a look somewhere between uncertainty and anticipation. “Time to remove your mask.”

Time to pay the piper…He drew a deep breath. “Ella, I need to ex—”

“There! There he is!”

The light of the bursting fireworks had lit the shadows around them and revealed them to the butler and a footman. The angry butler pointed at Spenser, and the footman charged toward him across the garden.

“My lord!” the butler shouted. “I must speak with you regarding your invitation!”

Spenser blew out a low curse. He gave her a last, longing look, then said sadly, “Goodbye, Ella.”

“Don’t go,” she protested, reaching for his arm. “You can—”

He placed a quick kiss to her lips, then turned and leapt over the wall into the park. He had to leave.Now.The last way he wanted her to remember him was as an uninvited trespasser being dragged out of the party. A fraud. A man led away in disgrace. Or worse—the unwanted stepson of the Duke of Pensworth.

As he dropped into the darkness beyond the garden wall, he caught a last glimpse of her bending down to pick up his dropped glove.

CHAPTER FIVE

“G

ood morning.” Ella smiled for her parents as she walked into the dining room the next day for breakfast, although there was barely any time left in the morning. She’d slept late, having too many nice dreams of the masked man in the garden to want to crawl out of bed any sooner than necessary.

Her father lifted his attention from his freshly ironed newspaper only long enough for her to place a kiss to his cheek, then buried himself behind its pages again.

“Did you sleep well?” Mama asked as she reached to refill her cup of chocolate from the ceramic pot. “Sweet dreams?”

“Yes.” Ella turned away toward the chaffing dishes on the sideboard to keep from blushing at the dreams that had invaded her sleep. She wouldn’t exactly call themsweet.

“It was a wonderful party,” Mama commented. When Papa said nothing, she prodded, “Wasn’t it, dear?”

“Hmm? What?” He glanced up from the paper and blinked. “Oh, yes. Quite.” Then he returned to reading.

Ella smiled to herself as she filled her plate. When Papa was deep in his morning papers, that was the only reply he ever gave—complete agreement with his wife. It was good to know that no matter where they lived, some things would never change.