Not allowing the wine to breathe, Jasmine drank straight from the bottle. She grimaced at the dry, pungent taste. For being such a prized bottle of wine, it tasted no different from the other wines she had sampled. But as a numb, light feeling came over her, she realized it was certainlystronger.
She moved back to the table and sat on the tabletop. Feet dangling, she flicked off her slippers. They fell to the ground with a quietplop, and then another. The humidity made her clothing stick to her skin. One after the other, she removed her gloves, stockings, and tiara, setting them on a chair. Lifting her feet, she stretched her legs and toes in the air.
She took another generous swig of wine.Ooh,she should have kept her mouth shut! Laughed out of her own dining room—and her mother wanted her to dance in the ballroom.
What for?
To be polite? To be respectful?
No one afforded her the same luxury.
The sound of approaching footsteps rose from the other side of the door.That didn’t take long.Jasmine set her shoulders and steeled herself for the incoming argument. The door creaked open, and a shadowed figure stepped into the room.
“I’m here for privacy, Mother.”
“You’ve certainly come to the right place for it.” A chuckle sounded, and Matthew said, “This is perfect.”
He closed the door behind him with a resoundingclick. He stepped into the dim candlelight and walked to her. Towering over her, hishead almost touched the ceiling.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“You always come here when you’re upset. I wanted to—” He stepped back and looked at her. His eyes widened, and his voice cracked. “Where are your shoes? Yourstockings—blazes, Jasmine! You’re scarcely dressed!”
“I wasn’t expecting company.” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t feel like wearing them. It’s muggy in here. If you don’t like it, you can leave.”
Matthew pursed his lips, thinking it over. He hummed. “You know, I believe you’re right. Itismuggy in here.”
He removed his gloves and began unbuttoning his coat.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked. “Why are you taking off your clothes?”
“I’m getting comfortable.” He shrugged out of his coat, folded it over a chair, then rolled his sleeves.
Trying hard not to focus on his arms—and suddenly feelingquitethirsty—Jasmine took a long drink of wine. “Did my mother send you?”
“No, I came on my own.”
“Well I’m sure she’ll be along any minute.” Jasmine sighed. “She can never let mebe.”
Matthew sat down on the table next to her. “In that case, I better make the most of this time. We need totalk, Jasmine.”
The heat of his body warmed the air between them. He motioned to the bottle. She handed it to him, and he took a large swallow.
“Allow me to apologize.”
“For what this time? You’ve humiliated me in every public setting we’ve been in. Dancing with me twice. What you said in the park. And tonight?” Sounding weak, she whispered, “I thought we were friends.”
“Wearefriends.” Matthew’s voice sounded as broken as hers. “Orat least, I’d like to be. More than anything, I want to make things right between us. I’m not purposefully humiliating you.” He grumbled, “This is all going so wrong. I wasn’t expecting you to come back.”
“Yes, you’ve made that clear.”
“No, listen to me—”
“No, you listen tome, Matthew.” Her voice rose with each word. “I left for Spain becauseyoutold me to leave. And you didn’t evenwriteto me! I poured my heart into the letters I sent to you, and all I got was silence.”
“Pushing you away is the biggest mistake of mylife.” Matthew’s eyes blazed into hers. “If I knew it would have made a difference, I would have written every day. I started letters so many times, but what was I to say?” He scoffed. “Another rainy day in London. Working hard at the factory?”
“Anything. I waited,” Jasmine whispered. “Did you even read my letters?”
