The Good Sister: Part One (17 page)

With an outstretched arm, which I took, Alec escorted me into the parlor. The parlor was another grand open room with cozy sitting areas. A bar had been nestled beside a raging open hearth fireplace that was constructed of rock. More candelabras holding flickering candles were placed at each side. The room wasn’t lit by overhead light. Only the raging fire, along with a multitude of candelabras, strategically placed around the room, provided the ambiance of muted light. It was the kind of light that inspired secrets, and held on to them.

I journeyed around the parlor, noticing the curtains upon the many windows were thick velvet in a deep purple. All of which were drawn, closing out the night. The walls were paneled in what I assumed to be mahogany, and the floor was dark planked wood as well.

I heard the British man. I stopped, and glanced around until I found him. I focused my attention on him, his voice. He had a soothing voice.
Strange to notice.
Why did this man draw my attention?

“My dearest, Jacqueline. As always you are a true vision,” he said. He lifted her hand and kissed her inner wrist. “But you must know I am completely enamored by the vision in white you presented to us this evening.”

“I was convinced you would be,” Jacqueline replied.

“I must know more of her, my dearest.”

“As in all things, my lord. It will be up to her. She and only she will reveal her secrets.”

My lord?

“Then introductions are in order I should think,” he returned.

Jacqueline smiled as though somehow victorious before she bowed her head toward the gentleman. “Very well. I do believe you would be beneficial in her tutelage, so I shall introduce you.”

Jacqueline and the man approached. Once he was close enough, I gasped. I saw his eyes, the detail of them. His eyes were the color of ice, and surrounded the dark black liquid pools of his pupils. This white ice filled color around his irises, gradating into darker shades of blue, something close to the color of a summer’s day. But this was not all. They were ringed on the outer edge of his irises with poignant silver. His eyes, both tempting and haunting, seemed to pass imperceptibly from one shade or degree of intensity to another. With complete astonishment, I saw that at times, his eyes were indeed completely white.

Were they the eyes of an angel or of a devil?

“I am sorry, my dove. Did I startle you?” he asked.

I stared into his eyes, lost within the intensity and strange coloration. His eyes caught a flicker of the candlelight. They transformed into a storm of blue then silver. I could not remove my eyes from his riveting gaze. I’d never seen anything like his eyes. They called to me, excited me, scared me, and intrigued me.

“You are frightened of my eyes.” It was not a question.

I bowed my head in acknowledgement.

“Do not be frightened, my dove. I promise you I am not a devil.”

I looked up, shocked in his word choice. I’d been thinking his eyes were either that of an angel or a devil.

“I see you do not believe me,” he taunted with a crooked grin. “I shall have to work hard at convincing you I am not as evil as my eyes may appear.”

Jacqueline interrupted. “My petit, allow me to introduce you. This is Lord Archer.”

He held out his hand. I allowed Jacqueline to place my hand into his. Lord Archer grasped my hand softly then lifted my hand to his lips. He brushed his lips in a gentle caress across the back of my hand before placing a kiss there. The frisson of heat and energy that passed between us was tangible. It sounds impossible, but I swore my hand sizzled. Lord Archer closed his eyes for a moment, before he gazed up into my masked face.

“I am pleased to meet you, my dove,” he replied. He kept my hand secured in his for a ceaseless moment then let it go as if it pained him to release it.

“Alec,” Jacqueline said, “shall we leave these two to become acquainted?”

My stomach flipped. I saw Reid out of the corner of my eye, but was it Reid or Lord Archer who was making my stomach dip and flutter? I was not at all sure.

“My sweet beauty,” Alec said. “You are in good hands with Lord Archer.”

I smiled at Alec, turned my gaze toward Reid momentarily then over to Lord Archer. Alec and Jacqueline left.

“Would you afford me the honor, my dove?” Lord Archer asked as he held out his arm in invitation.

I bowed my head, took his arm, and walked with him. Lord Archer was tall, well over six feet tall, I presumed. Reid was six-two and Lord Archer seemed taller. He was lean with wide shoulders, and was wearing an extraordinary blackish-blue suit. The color of his suit bounced somewhere between the two colors within the candlelight. I was unsure of the maker of the suit, but it was clear what he was wearing was very expensive, as well as tailored to fit him exactly.

As we walked, I studied him. Curious. Lord Archer was beyond handsome. This might possibly be due to the fact he was assured, regal. Something about that regal air fit him, suited him, as if he could be no other than an aristocrat.

“I thought you would like some privacy,” he commented, while escorting me down the long hallway. He stopped outside a smaller sitting room of sorts.

He obviously knew his way around the chateau. He was also completely at ease, confidently bold however not pushy yet strangely captivating
.
I nodded my response to his privacy comment. Understanding this to be my acknowledgement, Lord Archer proceeded. In fact, his confidence added to his appeal. Yes, I was quite sure of this.

Once we were inside of the small parlor, he closed the door. A shudder rolled over me. I tried to control it. Lord Archer probably felt my body shake, but perhaps he would think I was cold, having caught a draft. He need not know it was him who made me shudder, but oddly not in fear.

“Shall we?” he offered, holding out his hand toward an antique loveseat. It sat in front of the marble fireplace.

I took a seat. He made sure I was seated before he sat beside me. I traced my hand over the gilt carved edge of the loveseat. The carved spindle was of a ram’s head.

I shivered again as I returned my gaze to Lord Archer.

“I assure you, my dove, you are safe,” he replied, looking into my eyes.

His eyes are hypnotizing.

I pulled away from Lord Archer’s power packed stare to glance around the small room. We were the only two people present. I turned, looked at the door. It was shut. I adjusted myself upon the loveseat and focused my attention back to Lord Archer’s face. In a moment of sheer beauty the flicker of the fire rolled shadows and light off the cut of his cheekbones. The darkened ash color of his thick lashes splayed long lines of shadow across the hollow of his eyes.

Perhaps having my face covered gave me a sense of boldness or maybe it was something within Lord Archer himself, but I wasn’t frightened.
How peculiar.
I wanted to speak with him, to know him.

“I am pleased to meet you, Lord Archer,” I said.

He smiled the kind of smile the sun itself would envy. It was warm, and broke through the intensity of his chiseled features. His silver eyes danced.

“You have a beautiful, melodic voice,” he replied. I bowed my head, tried to smile prettily. “Might you reveal more? By the accent in which you speak, you are American, correct?”

“Yes, my lord,” I replied. I used how Jacqueline spoke to him as my point of reference.

He reached out and placed the pad of his thumb to the corner of my mouth. I was unsure of what to do, but he obviously felt the need to touch me. “You need not call me my lord. My given name is Ashton.”

“You would like me to call you Ashton?”

“Yes, my dove.”

“Ashton,” I said. “I like your name.” I paused. “Please know I do not think of you as a devil. I could not speak freely when we met, but you need to know I—”

Ashton’s brow rose in what seemed pleasant surprise. “I am blessed then.”

“Blessed?”

“Yes, my dove. You looked at me as though I frightened you, as if you thought me to be some sort of devil. I am blessed you think not.”

“No, but in all honesty your eyes shock me. I have never seen such eyes before,” I admitted then wondered at my boldness.

“And may I say the same? I have never seen such eyes before. Your eyes, my dove, are infused with the color of emeralds,” he said before he removed his thumb from the corner of my mouth.

I felt the urge to look down, tuck my chin from his piercing gaze, but I did not. I held my gaze, clearly unwilling to look away from him. The color changed from white to blue. His pupils pulsed. I shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked. Without waiting for my response he gallantly removed his suit coat and placed it around my shoulders. His coat engulfed my small body.

It took everything within me to hold back from lifting his coat to my nose. He smelled of sweetness and spice. I wasn’t sure, but the sent was one of some sort of exotic mixture of cologne. It was musk, infused with a kick of hot spice along with sweetness found in caramel and ginger. Whatever it was smelled wonderful.

“Thank you,” I said.

His eyes seemed to touch me, even though nothing but his coat was touching me.
Maybe he was some sort of devil and his eyes were filled with mystic power?

“How old are you, my dove?” He hesitated then added, “If I may be so bold as to inquire?”

“I will be nineteen, next Friday.”

My answer pleased him. The corners of his mouth turned up. Ashton tilted his head.

“How old are you?” I asked then realized this was probably not a proper question to ask of him.

Ashton let out a low laugh. I’d amused him.

“I am twenty-seven, my dove. Do I appear ancient in your eyes?”

“No,” I said.

“Very good.”

Unable to stop myself, I watched as he moved his arm. Intrigued at how the material of his dark dress shirt tightened, then relaxed across his chest. In truth I had never noticed any other man in any other way besides Reid until him.

“Are you from England, my lord?”

“Yes, however I spend a great deal of my time in France.”

There was something about his voice separate from the British accent. He spoke with a cadence, a smoothness that lulled me into a sense of security. This was strange, unfamiliar territory for me. Lord Archer had the kind of voice that could entice me to wrap up into the cradle of his arms, place my head against his chest, and sleep without the appearance of bad dreams.

Maybe he was an angel after all?

I crossed my leg. With a quick glance down, I realized the side slit in my dress was showing more leg than I felt comfortable. I tried to pull the dress together.

“No,” Ashton said, stopping my hand with his, “you have no idea how spectacular you are. Please, do not become self-conscious.”

I stopped, and for some reason I could not comprehend, I gave him what he asked for. I allowed the dress to fall as it may, exposing my bare leg for his view. He moved his hand back. With his movement I noticed a ring on his pinky finger. It was gold encrusted with some sort of crest.

“Will you tell me your name?” he asked. “I promise it shall stay with me and no one else shall know of it.”

“Trinity,” I answered.

“Fitting.”

“Fitting?” I asked.

“You are the holy Trinity. You, my dove, are beauty, elegance, and grace,” he said as he brushed his fingers along the back of my hand in an erotic motion. “My dove, will you allow me to see you, your face?”

I had no idea why I was doing this, but I wanted him to see me. I didn’t want anything hidden between us, I wanted …
what?

“Yes,” I said.

Ashton reached out and untied the mask. Slowly, he revealed my face to him. The ribbon on the mask loosened. I closed my eyes and hoped he would not be disappointed in what he found beneath. I held my breath. The right side of the mask moved, lifted, but nothing about the removal was done in haste…

The moment the mask was gone, he reached out and touched my face, palming my cheek. He touched me like I was precious, fragile, as if I would shatter like glass. I opened my eyes to see Lord Archer’s white eyes as they shifted into molten silver.

“Trinity, my dove,” he whispered into my ear. The warmth of his breath gusted across my bare neck. “In all of my life I have never looked upon such flawless beauty. I assure you, if I were to die in this moment, I would know what heaven was by gazing upon your perfection.”

I never imagined such words being spoken of me, to me. I was drawn to him, his eyes, his voice, and his words. I gazed up. Ashton’s face, his mouth, lingered scant inches from my mouth. He stroked my cheek, plucking sensations I’d never known from my skin. His thumb moved to the swell of my lips, his body shifted in closer to me.

God,
I wanted to feel his mouth upon mine
.

The parlor room doors
rattled.
Someone was coming in. I pulled my body back, stiffly, then reached to tug the mask from Ashton’s hand. Without any hesitation, I placed it back to my face. I turned my back to the doors quickly, tying the silk string, securing the mask in place.