The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest (25 page)

20

J
ORGEN COULD NOT
take his eyes off Odette. The mask somehow made her even more mysterious . . . and desirable. The white feathers were oddly appropriate, hovering around her perfect face. The memory of her pressing her cheek against his chest after he had taken her and Kathryn out of The Red House was never far from his thoughts tonight.

She turned her back on the scene below the balcony and faced him. “I know your parents died in the Great Pestilence, just as mine did. But how long did you live on the streets before you went to live with the forester and his wife?”

The question jarred him from his pleasant ruminations. He ran his hand through the back of his hair and cleared his throat. “It must have been about a year, or a little less.”

When he didn’t say anything else, Odette’s hand moved down his arm, and she slipped her hand inside his. His heart beat like a thundering of horses’ hooves as she gently squeezed.

“What happened when you were on the streets? Where did you live?” she whispered.

He had to swallow before he could answer. “My sister was much younger than me. I had to take care of her. We slept in people’s courtyards and gardens behind their houses when the weather
was good. When it was cold or rainy, we slept in the wealthier people’s stables. After Helena died, my father, the gamekeeper, found me one day, sick and lying in a little shelter I had made in the woods.” He didn’t like thinking about that time, how helpless he had felt. He had never told anyone any of this except his adoptive parents. But somehow it felt good to tell her.

Odette took his other hand in hers, and now she was holding both of his hands. After a short pause, she said, “When my father and mother died, the neighbors took me in. I was only five, but they made me empty chamber pots and scrub floors. They only fed me twice a day, and they gave me only pea pottage and black bread.”

Odette stared down at their joined hands while she talked. “I sometimes went through people’s garbage. Once I stole a meat pie from a nearby house. I shared it with another orphan I knew. And I sometimes asked other neighbors for food. The way they looked at me made me feel lowly and despised.”

He hated that she had felt those feelings, and yet it bonded them together. She understood what he had been through because she had experienced the same things. For the first time in his life, he could see that the pain he felt could have a purpose.

Already very near to him, she moved a bit closer. He disengaged his hand and touched her face. Her skin was like silk, and he let his fingers glide along her jawline. Her lips parted, and he noticed the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed more rapidly. His own breath felt shallow and raspy. He leaned down. Before he could let his reason take over, he pressed his lips against hers.

A tiny sound escaped her throat, and his mind seemed to leave him entirely. He cupped her cheek in his hand and pulled her mouth full against his.

Even though her hands slipped around his neck, she had not
responded to his kiss. He pulled back. The sight of her closed eyelids and parted lips was too much for his weak restraint, and he kissed her again.

She put her hands on both sides of his face and started to kiss him back. He let urgency overtake him. Was this happening? If not, it was the best dream he’d ever had. So sweet . . . so sweet.

Wait. What would she think of him? He had no right to kiss her.

He pulled away. She laid her head against his shoulder.
Dear, sweet saints
. If the feathers in her mask and headdress hadn’t been tickling his cheek, it would have been a perfect moment.

“Odette. I have been looking for you.”

She stepped away from him, pressing her hands against her face.

He turned to see Rutger standing at the other end of the balcony, and Jorgen blinked to clear his thoughts. Would her uncle be furious? He had every right to be.

“Jorgen. Odette. The ball is inside.”

“Yes, of course, Herr Menkels,” Jorgen said.

“Odette, I have some people I want you to meet.”

But instead of going with her uncle, she took hold of Jorgen’s arm. “We are coming.”

She held on with both hands, and Rutger waited for them to catch up. “I want you to meet the Duchess of Peisterberg,” he said to Odette, not including Jorgen, “and Lady Augenhalt, as well as Lady Keiperdorf.”

Jorgen might not be able to speak to her again the rest of the night, now that Rutger was taking her over.

Instead of responding to Rutger’s conversation, she looked up at Jorgen, her eyes startlingly blue and luminous, as if there were tears in them.
O Father God, have I made her cry?

But perhaps he was imagining it, for when Rutger was not
looking, she pressed her cheek against his arm before moving away and joining Rutger. As they passed from the gallery into the ballroom, she looked back at him, her eyes wide and a tender smile on her perfect lips.

Jorgen stopped in the doorway and whispered, “How can I ever win her? What must I do? What must I do to ever be worthy of her?”

Odette felt as if she were floating. She could still feel Jorgen’s lips on hers, could still see the vulnerability in his eyes. He had been reluctant to speak of his past, but his trust had touched her heart. And he understood. He had the same painful memories of childhood that she had. And unlike the children she taught, he had been saved by the gamekeeper and his wife, just as she had been saved by Rutger. And now, in just the same way as she felt driven to save the orphaned and poor children from going hungry, he felt driven to save others, like Kathryn, from the cruelties of oppression.

Her heart swelled with an emotion she had never felt before. Did she dare call it love? For the second time tonight, she suspected her heart had ignored all her warnings that falling in love with the forester was imprudent and impossible.
Oh, dear heaven, what am I to do now?

Her hand came up and touched her lips. Would the memory of his kiss fade? Would she forget the feelings he had created inside her?
Let it never be
. She wanted to remember them forever.

Rutger had led her to a handsome woman and her equally handsome daughter. Odette blinked, trying to concentrate on what Rutger was saying. He had just presented her to them, and they were staring at her. She quickly sank into a curtsy.

She had to stop thinking about Jorgen and his kiss, at least while Rutger was having her meet all these distinguished people. Her thoughts were in a fog, but she managed to mumble appropriate responses to what they were saying to her, if their languid smiles were any indication.

Rutger took her to meet several more people, and to speak to prominent people she had met before, like Mathis Papendorp’s father and mother. Several of them commented on how beautiful her mask and dress were, and she was grateful to Rutger for them. She could remember as a child wearing old, stained, and ill-fitting clothing, of people wrinkling their noses at her or otherwise making her feel like an outcast.

An earl’s son asked her to dance. She almost felt as if she were being disloyal to Jorgen as she joined the young man on the floor. She tried to behave in her most elegant manner, but her heart was not in the dance, and she found herself looking around for Jorgen.

When it was over, Rutger appeared by her side. “Let me take you to get something to drink. You must be thirsty.”

“I am thirsty, thank you.” She followed Rutger to the opposite end of the room where a table was spread with food and drink.

“Try this, my dear. I think it will revive you.” Rutger placed a goblet in her hand.

“What is it?”

“Fruit compote, I think.”

It was the same red color as the drink Odette liked so much, made from the juice of boiled cherries and other fruit. As she swallowed, she took a second gulp into her mouth, then choked. The liquid burned her throat like a fire. She coughed and sputtered, trying not to spew the drink out of her mouth, with no choice but to swallow the second gulp.

“Ugh! What is that?”

“Is it not fruit compote?”

“No, indeed. I believe it is some kind of strong spirits.”

“Oh dear. Is there some water?” Rutger addressed the servants waiting on the table.

A servant handed her another goblet. Odette took a sip. Tasting water, she drank several large gulps. The cool water took a bit of the sting out of her throat.

Already a warmth was spreading over her forehead. She drank some more water, hoping it would make her feel better. She had never drunk anything stronger than watered wine.

“I hope no one can smell that on my breath.”

“I would not worry,” Rutger said. “Perhaps you would like to lie down for a bit.”

“No, I am well. I just need to eat something and then I shall feel better.” She chose a gooseberry tart and took a bite, hoping it would take the taste of the strong drink out of her mouth, and the smell as well.

“Very well, but I think you should at least sit for a few moments.” Rutger placed his hand under her elbow, so she let him steer her through the doorway and into a small chamber with cushioned benches.

A lady was lying down on one of the couches while a servant fanned her face. Odette sat on another one.

“Go on and lie down,” Rutger said. “I shall come and make sure you are well in a few moments. And why don’t you take off your mask so you won’t get too warm.”

Since she wanted to do as he asked and had no desire to meet any more of the aristocratic people he had been introducing her to, she pulled off the mask, lay down, and closed her eyes.

After a few moments of taking deep breaths and feeling the air on her unmasked face, she sat up. She didn’t want to ruin the feathers in her hair.

She took another bite of her gooseberry tart, which she still held in her hand. The tart was rich with cream and was the best she had ever tasted. Unfortunately, Rutger had placed her goblet of water on the table out in the ballroom, but she managed to swallow the rest of the tart.

She began to feel restless. Perhaps she should go back into the ballroom. But when she looked around for her mask, she didn’t see it. Where had she placed it? Had she not put it on the floor beside her? She must have, but it was not there. She bent and looked under the bench she had been lying on, but it was not there either.

Now what was she to do? She would look strange without her mask, since all the other women were wearing theirs. After looking all around the room, she still did not see it. How strange. She had no wish to stay in this room all night, and since she was feeling better, she determined to go and find Rutger and ask him if he knew what had happened to her mask.

Jorgen talked with various men as he waited for Rutger to tire of introducing Odette to everyone at the ball. When she began dancing with a young man, he tried not to feel jealous or wonder if she found him handsome or interesting. Her uncle probably wanted her to dance with someone—anyone—besides Jorgen.

After dancing with the man, Odette joined Rutger and walked over to the table set up at the end of the room with drinks and food.

“Jorgen, are you enjoying yourself?” The margrave stood beside him, leaning on his cane.