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“No fever either,” he whispered.
And if history repeats? If one kiss curses you both, same as before?
A chilling vision of a woman with wild eyes, screaming in his face, standing on the balcony of her bedchamber in the pouring rain came slamming into his head. It was enough to cool the warmth in his veins, his head pulling back.
“I do not know where my son and grandmother are,” he said, his heart still pounding. “I have a feeling they may have retreated inside. A jape.”
“Oh…” Her grip on his lapels slackened. “Well, that is not very sporting of them.”
Slowly, he pulled away, releasing her. “If you shout for them, they may come out.”
“I will try,” she replied, her hands falling from his chest.
Hastily, she folded her arms behind her back as if she could not trust them and twisted her body away from him. As he glanced at her, his arms felt suddenly empty, focusing on the nape of her neck and the burning sensation where she had touched him.
“William! Harriet!” she shouted. “You can come out now!”
“The game is over!” Anthony joined in.
A few moments later, the exterior door to the pond garden opened and in they breezed, wearing innocent expressions that fooled no one.
“You broke the rules,” Anthony said, frowning. “You were not supposed to hide outside the walls.”
Harriet blinked, her hand flying to her chest. “Goodness, were those the rules? I must have missed that part.”
A flicker of suspicion flamed in Anthony’s chest, wondering if his grandmother had arranged it so only Marina would be there for him to find. But, unlike the audition, he could not prove anything.
Do not meddle, Grandmother. He flashed her a warning look. Do not dare.
Indeed, he had already come far too close to breaking his own rules. He would not make that mistake again, no matter how hard the old woman tried to interfere.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
What is the matter with me?
Marina sat cross-legged in front of her mirror, searching her face, her skin, for any sign of a rash or obvious illness. She touched her brow to feel for a fever that was not there, and pressed a palm to her chest in case Anthony had been wrong about an arrhythmia.
All seemed normal, so why did she feel so strange? Why did her heart keep beating wildly whenever she thought of her husband? Why did her skin flush with heat at the thought of him holding her so close, leaning in as if he meant to whisper to her… or something more?
“How are you feeling?” Harriet’s voice interrupted her confusion.
Marina glanced at the older woman through the mirror’s reflection. “As I suspected, the fresh air was a tonic.” She smiled. “Although, all of that excitement has left me rather tired.”
“William is relieved that you are better,” Harriet said, walking closer. “Indeed, I believe we all are.”
Marina gave a small nod, uncertain of how she was meant to respond to that.
“Well… I shall leave you to rest.” Harriet reached down and patted Marina gently on the head. “I just wanted to make sure all was well, and that you had not overexerted yourself. It sounded like you and my grandson were having quite the chase, at the end of our game.”
Throat tightening, remembering how at ease she had felt when Anthony had caught her, Marina nodded again. “It was my own fault; I should have stayed in my hiding place.”
“Not at all, dear,” Harriet insisted, a thickness in her voice as she added, “It was good to hear him so joyful. Less serious.”
“Has he always been that way?”
The older woman hesitated, frowning. “Not by choice.”
“What do you mean?” Marina peered up at Harriet.
