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“I wish you luck, then. Miss Caceres Galvan and I are going to take a walk around the palace grounds,” Cora said, taking Manuela by the hand. If the earl noticed anything about the gesture he did not say.
“He is an interesting one,” Manuela said as Cora led her away from the center of the room, “and he is very intrigued by Aurora, which of course drives her absolutely mad.”
“Does she not like the man? Is he bothering her?” She didn’t care what title he held: if he was making himself a nuisance, Cora would make short work of him.
“I think what’s bothering Aurora is that she likes Apollo too much,” Manuela answered coyly, still looking wistfully at the dancers.
Cora was out of practice in this, in being unable to solve a problem for someone she cared for. She didn’t like to see her loved ones unhappy, and to bring a lover into her world would mean being the cause of their constant disappointment.
“Come with me,” she said, putting future troubles out of her head for the moment, and pulling Manuela out of the door and toward the terrace. This would be a liability later, but she could not bear watching Manuela long for something as simple as dance and not give in to her.
“Are we about to engage in scandalous tribadist behavior?” She sounded absolutely thrilled at the prospect.
There was an endless list, it seemed, of things about Manuela Cora found beguiling, but the easy way in which she embraced any new adventure was by far her favorite.
“Just emulating the fine example Miss Bonaparte set out for us.”
“And here I thoughtIwas the bad influence on young society ladies.” Manuela laughed, a sultry, velvety thing that crawled through Cora’s marrow and swirled hot in her groin. She couldn’t help stopping to take a look at her, this chimera who made everything so confusing and good, so good.
“You are the most alluring thing in Paris,” she said, unable to contain herself, even as other guests milled around them.
“I beg to differ, Your Grace,” Manuela argued, hands clasped at her front, shoulders relaxed as she directed that glowing smile up to Cora. “It is me who is looking at the most striking woman in all of Paris, all of France.” A gloved finger softly grazed her own, and just that whisper of a touch sent off blaring trumpets inside her. Cora had never been looked at like this, with such adoration. “My woman, my lover. The one who makes me weak, whose eyes melt me in seconds. The one whose taste I carry on my tongue, on my hands. Corazón.” Manuela always said her name like a benediction. “Your name, and the part of me you own.” Anyone who passed them now, two feet apart, hands folded in front of them, would see two high-society ladies discussing the virtues of a bit of fresh air between waltzes. They’d never know that in that moment, with a few simple words, Cora’s soul had been claimed by the woman in front of her.
“If you are going to say things like that, we might have to go into the maze,” Cora said with a shake of her head. “Just to avoid my mauling you in front of half of the diplomatic corps.”
“Aren’t there people inside it?” Manuela asked, even as she followed Cora.
“Anyone currently in that maze is not in a position to divulge others’ secrets.”
Once they were far enough in not to be seen, Cora took Manuela into her arms. She’d never been one for ballroom dancing, finding it tiresome to let herself be led around by a man. But Manuela in her arms was entirely another matter. They swayed together, Manuela’s arms circled around Cora’s neck, while her own hands clasped at the small of her lover’s back.
“I never want this to end,” Manuela finally said, her eyes hidden from view. A pained sound escaped Cora. “You have given me memories to cherish for the rest of my life.” Manuela sounded resigned. Like a woman preparing herself for the gallows. Again Cora wished she could promise her forever right then, instead of emptymaybes.
“Why don’t I take you home, so I can ravish you properly.” Cora attempted and failed to sound anything but wrecked. Manuela looked up at her then, and her eyes were burning with that ever-present want. She could be burned in those honeyed depths. Even now when there was a brittleness to them, Cora could still feel the flames of desire moving through her.
“After the announcement,” Manuela asserted, and for a moment Cora couldn’t understand what she was saying, then laughed awkwardly, realizing she’d forgotten why she’d come to the embassy tonight.
“I was so entranced by you, princesa, the announcement flew out of my mind.”
Manuela smiled, but it was a wan thing. She wanted to tell her she loved her then. Voice the thing that had been growing wildly inside her.
“Let’s get it over with, then. I’ll have us in the carriage and home before you know it.” With that she tightened her hand on Manuela’s one last time before stepping out of the shadows.
The moment they stepped back in the room Cora spotted Aurora and Alfie, who were practically running in their direction, matching expressions of dismayed relief on their faces.
“Oh no,” Manuela moaned, alarm clean in her voice. When Cora turned to her, she noticed she wasn’t looking in Alfie and Aurora’s direction. Her attention was focused on something on the other side of the room. Whatever it was made her eyes widen in terror.
She knew who he was the moment she laid eyes on him.
“It’s my fiancé.”
Manuela sounds so odd, Cora thought as the reality of what was happening pelted her like hail. Her lover’s voice, which only minutes ago had been charged with emotion, had been burrowing straight into Cora’s soul, now sounded dead. Like there was nothing left inside her. Like every drop of life had been drained from her body.
“Manu, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Aurora gasped, winded, eyes darting back and forth between them and the man headed in their direction.
Manuela turned those pleading amber eyes on Cora as Felix Kingsley—who was comely enough if not particularly refined in his manner—approached them with an easy gait. Desperation took a hold of Cora like a fever.
Her breathing coming short, her body shaking as she forced herself to remain calm. She told herself again and again that she was in a room full of people who would love to see her make a spectacle of herself. But the urge to shield Manuela from Kingsley’s hands—by force if necessary—was overpowering. Recalling the way she’d humiliated herself with Sally made little difference.
