Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets) (36 page)

My gaze swung to Sorin. He appeared completely normal at first glance. His mouth titled in a smile, his brow free of worry lines. I would have dismissed this woman as nothing to him, but then I noticed the set of his shoulders was tighter than usual. Actually, his entire stance was too rigid to be natural.

He still had feelings for her.

My heart plummeted.

“Will you introduce me to your friend?” Even her voice was attractive. Almost like crumpled velvet, it caressed the eardrum.

“Constance, this is Miss Cadrian Summerlynn. Cadrian, this is Lady Constance Patterson.” We made polite noises at each other. I noticed the edge of her skirt now overlapped Sorin’s shoe and her hand nudged at his side. Who moved toward the other first, or had it been completely unconscious?

“I understood your mother took in a ward. I never imagined she was fully grown.” Lady Constance laughed, but I saw the edge enter her blue eyes. The word
ward
conjured up all sorts of images, none of which were attractive. I was certain she used it deliberately.

“Miss Summerlynn is far too pretty to be deemed a ward.” To his credit, Sorin edged away from Lady Constance and nearer to me. Just as quickly, I stepped further away, earning a dark look from him.

“I see.” Lady Constance watched our byplay. “Tell me, Sorin, have you had a chance to speak with Micah about his upcoming exhibit at the Penthon? I know how you enjoy your art.”

I didn’t know Sorin liked art. It never came up in conversation. Probably because our conversations never went much beyond my father and all the secrets kept from me. I spared a thought for all I’d never know about Sorin.

I wondered what we’d be if we hadn’t met under such contentious circumstances. Would we have been friends? No, I decided, my gaze skimming his features and body, we wouldn’t have been friends. Especially since simply looking at him was enough to speed my heartbeat.

Had I really thought a red dress would right all that was wrong between us? The gulf between us was too much for mere fabric to bridge.

Around me, the conversation about Micah and the Penthon exhibit flowed. Apparently, Micah was a mutual friend they’d known forever. The constraint of their greeting had fallen away in the recitation of friends and events. They were now two old friends recounting familiar tales.

My eyes narrowed. All the shared memories contained much more than friendship. There was something between them still. I wasn’t certain what, but from the way Sorin smiled, he was far from immune to Lady Constance.

I scolded myself for being jealous. Sorin was not mine and hadn’t I decided barely two minutes ago that it was over between us? Whatever bound us together, I would break. Starting tonight.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to watch Sorin personally inventory each of Lady Constance’s attributes.

“I can see you have much to catch up on. I shall be in the ballroom.” The words were light and sounded completely normal.

Without looking from Lady Constance, Sorin waved a hand in acknowledgement. Lady Constance nodded, saying something about how nice it was to meet me. It was a lie I did not bother to repeat.

Freedom wasn’t nearly as sweet when one didn’t have to fight for it. My suddenly nerveless feet carried me into the glittering mass of people in the ballroom. Of course Sorin still loved Lady Constance. The woman was otherworldly gorgeous. The beauty of her face was such that I couldn’t remember the color of her dress.

This made leaving much easier. So why wasn’t I pleased?

I didn’t have long to mope because Rob found me almost immediately.

“Why so glum? You are at a party. Smile.” He poked me in the ribs. “Where’s Sorin?”

“With Lady Constance.” I couldn’t help the sneer on my face.

“Oh.” He paused. “That’s surprising. I thought he wouldn’t leave your side.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” I raised my head. I wasn’t going to allow Sorin to ruin my night. He hadn’t intentionally done anything. He simply loved another woman. No problem.

My heart cracked directly down the middle. I met Rob’s eyes, on the verge of tears.

Instantly understanding, he chucked me under the chin. “Come. We will dance and make my brother insanely jealous.”

“He’s not even here to see.”

“When people see the way we will dance, he will come.” With a devilish laugh, Rob swept me onto the floor.

I always enjoyed dancing with Rob. His lead confident and steady, the steps found my feet rather than me finding them. With one arm firmly wrapped around my waist, Rob pulled me close against him. The contact of his body against mine was pleasant, but contained none of the fire inherent in Sorin’s every touch.

I became aware we were being watched and whispered about. My presence in the receiving line had added fuel to the already incendiary gossip regarding my exact relationship with the two princes. Nobody knew who it was, but it was clear either Rob or Sorin was very seriously involved with me.

Just because I could, I skimmed my fingers into Rob’s black hair, playfully fluffing it. I leaned close, whispering, “This will certainly cause a stir.”

“And most likely result in my death.” He laughed.

“I won’t let him hurt you.” With an effort, I curved the corner of my mouth upward. “Besides, he is too busy making eyes at Lady Constance to care what I do.”

“No, he’s not, and he deeply cares.” Motioning with his head over my shoulder, Rob said, “See for yourself.”

As quickly as possible in the dance we performed, I caught a glimpse of Sorin standing in the doorway. Every inch of his posture screamed outrage.

Good. My lips curved in a smug smile. Let’s see how he liked being replaced. Deliberately, I rested my head against Rob’s jaw.

Seconds after the dance ended, Sorin reached us.

His gaze was crystal hard on us, his jaw tense. “Would you care to explain that?”

Defiant, I stared back at him. “That was a dance.”

“It was a spectacle.” His gaze shifted to Rob. “You know better.”

Rob frowned at his brother. “You have some explaining to do.” He straightened his shoulders and left the dance floor, neatly avoiding the clusters of people watching us.

I would have followed only Sorin grabbed my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Somewhere far from you.”

“That place does not exist.”

I stared up into his face, thinking I’d never seen him so furious. His eyes were twin slits of blue, his mouth a pale red slash with white lines radiating from the corners. A part of me thrilled at having angered him, proving he was not immune to me no matter how wrapped up in Lady Constance he was, but the other part looked for the first opportunity to escape. I valued my life.

“There are other ways to gain my attention.” His smile was cold. “Making a spectacle of yourself dancing with my brother was not the smartest choice.” The orchestra began a new song with a loud cymbal crash, probably to distract everyone from the argument near the periphery of the dance floor.

“I don’t want your attention.” That was the only rejoinder I could think of because he was already drawing me into his arms, and, like a fool, I went.

Normally, Sorin was gentle whenever he touched me. Even when we kissed, his touch was firm but never left marks. From the grip his fingers had on my arms, I knew it would bruise. Each of his movements was stiff, as though he were so furious he could barely bend his limbs.

Not that that affected my reaction to his touch. When his hand claimed the base of my spine, I felt each separate indention of his fingers. There was no space for breath between our bodies as the strains of a waltz wrapped around us.

He guided me through the fluid steps. I felt each flex of his thighs, each intake of breath, and each time his fingers dug a little deeper than necessary into my skin. My head titled forward, pulled by the tantalizing scent of his skin.

I licked my lips. “Sorin,”

“Words will not save you.” He exhaled harshly as my fingers claimed the area above his heart. His rapidly pounding heart.

I thought briefly of arguing, but decided against it. We were so rarely in harmony. Locked in wordless communication, we danced. Around us, I caught flashes of brightly colored dresses, and the darker hues of the men. The murmur of conversation mingled with the music, creating a steady hum.

Unlike the hundreds of other dances in my life, this was different. We moved with a fluidity that spoke of two bodies so completely familiar that no movement was unexpected. When he moved left, my weight had already shifted. When his right foot lifted in preparation for a complicated step, my left foot was poised to follow.

The music ended. We stopped. I lifted my suddenly heavy head to look into his eyes. His were cloudy, a mix of so many emotions I could not begin to identify them all. Gentle now, Sorin carefully put me from him and left the room.

My astonishment was mirrored on the faces of those around me. They’d gathered to applaud our seamless dance, and now weren’t quite certain what to do. I wasn’t either, but I couldn’t very well stand in the middle of the dance floor for the rest of my life.

A man suddenly broke through the crowd. I recognized him as Lord Colin Liberty.

“Excellent. You have saved me the trouble of seeking you out for our dance, Miss Summerlynn.” Vaguely, I became aware the orchestra had begun a new song. I took Liberty’s hands and we began dancing.

It took two circuits of the dance floor to arrange my thoughts. Liberty recognized the instant I regained control of myself. “Have you come to explain your comment about my pendant?”

“Not exactly. I have come to invite you to our island for a long overdue chat.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. “You’re a Tallon.”

“Guilty.” He smiled, a strangely engaging smile for such an aloof man. “I am acquainted with your father.”

“Then you know what he was working on when he was killed!” My fingers clutched at his shoulder and not entirely due to the turn we whisked through. “Tell me.”

“If you want to know, you must come to the island.”

“I have heard that before.” Now that I knew the location indicated by the map, I had no need to go to the island. If all the secrets were in one place, if my father’s work was related, it would be among them.

A faint smile touched his lips. “You know.” It wasn’t a question.

I nodded. Liberty waited until we completed the rather complicated rowing motion the dance required to say, “Have you told anyone?”

“Sorin,” his name escaped on a whisper.

“Ah. I wondered at the little scene earlier.” His brows lowered. “It is important you leave. There are those who want what’s secret to remain hidden as badly as those who would reveal everything.”

It was my turn to frown. “Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t.” He shrugged, which was difficult when dancing. “But I am more trustworthy than the Norths.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Ask Prince Sorin where your father is.”

“My father is dead.”

“Is that what he told you?” Liberty shook his head. I heard the closing strains of the dance. “I hope you are not always so gullible.” With a final flourish, we parted, Lord Liberty to his next partner, and me to mine. I wished confusion was as easily left behind.

“Miss Summerlynn, a letter for you.” An exquisite silver tray was placed level with my eyes so I would see the crisp white letter on it. I wasn’t offended as my position made it rather difficult to receive a letter. Currently, I perched in the window seat of the back drawing room, idly watching the wind stir the leaves.

I’d picked this place for the unlikelihood of being disturbed. Obviously I was wrong in thinking anything in the palace went unnoticed.

“Thank you, Cedric.” I smiled. Inwardly, I wished he’d take himself off. My solitude had been disrupted and I didn’t like it.

Not that I’d really accomplished anything. I just stared. Thoughts of Sorin, Lord Liberty, secrets and this entire mess floated around my brain. I liked to imagine them ramming each other out of the way in a fight for my undivided attention. So far, there was no clear winner.

Cedric quietly left the room and I looked down at the familiar looking letter in my hand. There was something about the paper, the cream color, the smooth texture beneath my fingers, which reminded me of something…

Slitting the seal, I flipped the letter over to examine the bottom right corner. The Summerlynn crest stared back at me.

I dropped the letter into my lap. This letter was written on my father’s personal stationary.

Forcing my heart to slow down, I told myself simply because a letter showed up on familiar stationary did not mean my father lived. There was any number of explanations as to why a letter on my father’s stationary came to be in my possession. Anyone could have borrowed a piece of stationary or stolen the stack from my father’s study. Our house had most likely been ransacked by an angry mob, though I couldn’t imagine paper being high on their list of valuables.

Fingers trembling, I turned the letter over. The handwriting was easily recognizable.