Page 35 of Once Bitten, Twice Mine

“I’m sorry, cara,” Valeria sighed. “You shouldn’t listen to most of what I say. I’ve always talked far too much.”

“That’s certainly something that hasn’t changed.” Caroline looked up with a small smile in an attempt to let her know there were no hard feelings. “You’ve changed, but the one thing that has remained the same is that you are just as dangerous as ever.”

The corners of Valeria’s mouth twitched. “You thought I was dangerous?”

“Do you remember when you took me to the grotto on the coast? You jumped from the top of the cliff without a second thought, without even a glance below to make sure you didn’t hit any of the numerous rocks at the bottom.”

“I’d been there enough times I knew generally where not to jump.”

“But I didn’t when I followed you over. I jumped in after you without another thought.”

Falling through the air had been exhilarating, but when she broke through the surface, the waves pushed her into a rock, scraping up her back. It was only then she realized exactly how dangerous what they did was. She was angry with Valeria for leading her into such danger, but more furious with herself for leaping before thinking. She had been about to tell Valeria off for being so reckless when that wild, dangerous woman grabbed her and kissed her. She tasted like salt water, freedom, and the sweetest realization of all of her dreams.

Nothing had ever been so dangerous to Caroline before or since.

* * *

“I don’t know what to do with you.”

Valeria sat at the foot of her bed. They weren’t touching, but were so close she felt the heat of her all the same.

“Why not?”

“I like you far more than I ever thought I would.”

Caroline’s eyes opened, and she was both disappointed and relieved to find herself alone. At least this dream had been chaste. It was a comfort she hadn’t dreamed of molten chocolate eyes looking down at her with such desire that it burned. Dreams like that were a complication.

Edgar’s unopened letter propped against her water glass on the nightstand mocked her. Her hand hovered over the scarlet seal many times, but she didn’t have the strength to break it.

While her fiancé had been away working to secure their future, she had been home with Valeria having urges, and she felt guilty. If she were to think of anyone’s eyes—or lips—it should be Edgar’s, but those thoughts left her as uninspired as always each time she forced herself to think of them. She grabbed the letter from her nightstand and ripped it open before she lost her nerve.

He wrote to her that The Count—no other name was given, just The Count—was quite accommodating. That he wanted for nothing as he worked for him. He told her to keep planning the wedding, and they would wed upon his return. He urged her not to worry after him and that she would be in his thoughts and dreams. It was so unlike Edgar; he was typically quite sensible. His handwriting was loopy and unkempt as opposed to his typical tidy script.

Though he told her not to worry, that made her worry. Edgar was sensible. Occasionally he would share a stilted romantic verse with her, but he never spoke to her about his thoughts, let alone his dreams. Instead he would always tell her in nauseating detail what he was up to. He never betrayed details about his clients, but he would discuss the tedious paperwork or reading until his eyes hurt.

She wondered if Edgar’s dreams about her were anything like her dreams about Valeria.

Caroline sat at her desk to craft a response. Part of her wanted to ask him what was wrong with him. Not only how he could have spent so long without writing to her, but why his letter was nonsensical. She wanted to know her sensible fiancé was all right.

Instead, her own sense prevailed where Edgar’s had failed. She asked him about his journey and how he was settling in. She told him how good it was that he had a client willing to take such good care of him. It was polite and succinct, but she did say that she eagerly awaited his return.

The one thing she didn’t mention was Valeria. He didn’t ask after her well-being, and she wasn’t going to bring it up. An update on her health would be appropriate, but she wasn’t sure if she could mention her in a way that didn’t betray her true feelings.

“Good morning, Miss.”

“Good morning, Lucy. How are you today?”

“Just fine, but Mrs. Thomas is in quite the state. She woke up to bloody footprints tracked all over the downstairs.”

“What?” Caroline whipped around in her chair to face her lady’s maid. “Where did the footsteps lead to?”

“That’s the strangest thing. The footsteps are in the ballroom and went around the conservatory, library, and kitchen, but don’t appear to go anywhere. It looked like they were in an unbroken loop.” Lucy shivered. “It’s entirely too terrifying, in my opinion.”

“It is rather frightening.” Caroline’s heart pounded, and she squeezed her fists in an attempt to control her breathing. “Are the footprints still there?”

“No, Mrs. Thomas cleaned them, but she huffed about it the entire time. She gave nearly everyone quite the tongue-lashing. I only escaped unscathed because I don’t have any duties downstairs.”

“I’m glad you were able to escape her ire at the very least,” Caroline said as she got up so Lucy could dress her for the day. “Did Mrs. Thomas find the culprit?”