AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Time would tell, would it not?” He spread his hands. “Besides, I wanted to keep the hope of your eventual return.”
Romulus’ side-smile made an appearance. “Thank you, I suppose.”
“In a blink you were back anyway, and it died a swift death.”
“It sure did.” Between his military missions and the one he imposed on himself of finding his mother’s murderer, no wonder confusion arouse. And he reappeared when more than a year and a half had elapsed. He supposed Annabel would have buried him well and truly by then.
“Why this sudden curiosity, Fabien?” His brother’s inquisitive stance did not surprise Romulus. He used to be a little absent minded, but not naïve in the least.
“I did not hear of it then, having had a brief leave. I learned of it these past weeks though.” The memories of Annabel surfaced at that moment. He did not want to admit to himself he missed her. Admission or not, the fact was he did. A bloody lot!
“Unsurprising, as you became rather recluse after the war.” He retrieved his glass from the side table.
Recluse? Yes, perhaps he did. He did not mention her to anyone before departing to the continent and even less when she married. He went away to lick his wounds and get on with his life in any manner he could.
“I have got tickets for the Opera. Would you care to accompany me?” He finished his brandy in one big gulp.
Emma, his wife, already initiated confinement and would not be able to attend.
“Why not?” Romulus answered. He made no plans for the evening one way or the other.
* * *
Though Annabel did not have the liberty to use the Winchester family box, she did not mind sitting in the audience, together with the bourgeois. She would enjoy the evening all the same.
In a deep Boudreaux evening dress, jewels and midnight ringlets piled elaborately on the top of her head, she glided among the throngs, glad that she decided to come. She already met friends and acquaintances.
“This is incontestably a small world, Lady Winchester.” A bone-melting voice came from behind her.
She closed her eyes tight for a second in an attempt to placate the heat mixed with the sulphurous fury streaming in her veins. Her fan closing, she turned slowly. “Lord Blackthorne.” She curtsied with a dazzling–and false–smile. “What a surprise.” Sulphur seeped in her tone.
The blasted man took her gloved hand in his and bowed his tall frame, attention glued on her. That sulphur transformed in something too molten for comfort. Turning to a man with lighter shades of hair and eyes, “Please, allow me to present my brother, Didier Burroughs.”
An easy smile stretched the man’s lips. “Enchanted, my lady.” He also bowed over her hand.
Annabel took an immediate liking to the younger man. They exchanged pleasantries and in less than five minutes, he had her smothering a laugh at one of his carefree jokes.
Romulus looked none too happy with their immediate friendliness.
“Where did you meet this delightful lady, Fabien?”
“Her carriage had an unfortunate… disrepair near Blackthorne Castle.”
One that unfolded in heated days and nights. Which she did not want to remember. At all.
She cast him a sword-sharp glance in the hopes to puncture that sardonic stance of his.
But it became less sharp when she took in his broad frame on impeccable black suit and white shirt made of layers ready to be peeled. The unbidden thought irritated her even more.
“You do not say!” Didier continued heedless of their tension. “Did you not run from that old frigid pile of rocks?”
She smiled saccharine. “It took a couple of tries, I daresay.” Romulus’ lopsided smirk died suddenly. “But I succeeded at last.”
“Smart girl.” He offered her his arm. “Do you have a box, my lady?”
“I will sit in the audience.” She took his arm, not so taut as his brother’s.
“Then you must come sit in our box.” He demanded.
