Page 29 of Twice Upon a Midnight

She paused for a beat, confused. Then she laughed. “There’s no music!”

“Oh yes, there is.” His heart overflowed with it.

Before she could protest again, he drew her into his arms and danced with her, scandalously close in the darkness to a tune of their own making. The skirt of her long coat swirled against his legs with every slow turn he led her through, and he could feel her soft warmth beneath his hand at the small of her back. But their steps grew slower and slower until they were barely moving at all, until their dance became nothing more than an excuse for him to hold her in his arms. Finally, they stopped altogether, and Ella nuzzled her cheek against his neck.

“I’ll never forget this night,” she whispered, her voice breathless.

Guilt pricked him. She would remember it for all the wrong reasons.

He released her from his arms, then sat on the blanket and tugged her hand gently to bring her down beside him. Without a word, he took the grape she’d dropped onto the blanket and brought it to her lips. She opened her mouth so he could place it on her tongue, and the sight of her sensuous lips nearly undid him.

When he went to feed her a second grape, she covered his hand with hers and searched his face. “Who are you? Tell me your name.”

“Spenser.” She’d get nothing more from him. Not until he was forced to.

She gave him a chastising scowl. “Yourrealname.”

“Spenser.” If he touched her at that moment, he would have been lost, so he stretched out on his side along the length of the blanket, strategically placing several plates of food between them. “I told you. My mother lovedThe Faerie Queene.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “I thought you were bamming me.”

“I know. I suppose I should apologize for misleading you, but I couldn’t resist.” He shrugged a shoulder. “You thought it made me poetic and romantic.”

“It did.”

He pulled the cork from the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. “And the reality?”

“Still poetic.” She accepted the wineglass from him. “And very romantic.”

“Not so much.” He hesitated. It was time to feel out the waters before plunging in completely up to his neck. “I also told you that you needed to stop looking for me because I couldn’t see you again. I meant that.”

“And yet, here you are.” She ran her fingertip around the rim of the glass and studied him in the moonlight. “I found you, and you’re very much seeing me.”

Damnation.This conversation wasn’t going at all as he’d planned. He warned gently. “I’m not the man you think I am.”

“And who do you thinkIthink you are?”

“A peer for one. But I’m not.” The wine was bitter on his tongue. “Your butler called me ‘my lord’ the night of your ball, but I’m not.” His chest tightened not from shame of who he was but guilt that he’d hidden the truth from her. “I’m not even a gentleman, certainly not one who’s part of your family’s social circle.”

“But you were at the party.”

“I wasn’t invited.”

She stiffened with confusion. “Then…who are you?”

A printer with stained hands and no prospects of ever becoming part of theton.A man who had to work hard for every scrap he’s ever possessed…But he couldn’t bring himself to reveal any of that. Carefully choosing his words, he told her instead, “An unwanted stepson of a peer who has to make his way through the world by working.”Worse—by working with his hands.He admitted with chagrin, “Who only managed to be at your party because I forged an invitation and pretended to be someone else on your guest list.”

Her eyes grew wide. “That’s why you weren’t any of the men who attended the ball with the initialsSandR. That’s why I couldn’t find you by tracking them all down.”

Thank God it wasn’t accusation he saw in her expression when the pieces finally came together for her. He couldn’t have borne it.

He frowned into his wineglass. “You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble.”

“But I wanted to see you again. I thought…”

He finished for her, “You thought you could be like Cinderella, except with a glove instead of a glass slipper.”

She said nothing for a moment, then her voice filled with embarrassment as she admitted, “Yes, I suppose I did.” She looked away into the darkness. “You must think me a goose.”