Free Ours Is Just a Little Sorrow by Gwen Hayes Page B

twirled me
through the other dancers. I wasn't as self-conscious this time, as my outfit made me fit in much better, just as Minerva had said it would.
    Gideon hadn't said anything to me yet, so I tried to break the ice and loosen the mask of irritation he wore. "I want to apologize again, for the
whyrlygig. I don't know what came over me to think I should just take it. I wasn't feeling quite myself, I suppose."
    His face softened and he pulled me closer. "If you must know, I was never really angry. Mostly just intrigued. You continue to surprise me. I expected that
I'd have to devise a fiendish scheme to get you back here, and you trot off and come on your own."
    "I shouldn't have."
    "It wasn't safe. I'd prefer that you allow me to escort you on your nightly rambles." He shushed me as I tried to argue. "I'm not trying to inhibit you. I
can stay out of the way, if you like. I just don't want you to be hurt. Until they find whomever…I'm sorry. I don't want to ruin your outing with
that kind of talk."
    A coldness leeched into my bones. "You're right. It was foolish of me to go alone. Until they catch the killer, I'll only go out if you accompany me."
    It didn't escape either of us that I hadn't suggested that I not go out.
    "Thank you for the books, though I'm not sure why you chose the ones you did."
    "Really?" he asked, spinning me in an impromptu break of the waltz pattern. It was so like him to spin me out of control during something I knew by heart,
and yet, it was fun to give up what I expected and see where he would take me.
    "Well, if you must know, I prefer scandalous novels to history."
    "I'll keep that in mind. Most women would prefer flowers and fripperies, but I knew better. I'd get nowhere appealing to your vanity, so I aimed for your
intelligence. Books for
my
Violet. Give the reading a try, though, sprite. I think you'll like it. They're from my personal collection."
    They were books he'd read. That he'd shared them with me felt more personal than if he'd given me a lacey undergarment. I'd go over them more carefully
now, searching for clues about what made Gideon's clock tick. How many people even suspected that he read, much less what he read about?
    "It's like I can see the cogs and wheels of your brain spinning. What has you so rapt all of the sudden, Vi?"
    "I'm wondering if those books are an answer to a riddle."
    "What kind of riddle?"
    "One that explains you, sir."
    Another spin. "I'm not really that complicated."
    "Oh, but you are."
    "I think you are the more interesting of the two of us. For instance, you pretend that you believe what society tells me about you, and yet nothing could
be further from the truth."
    "What exactly does society tell you about me, Gideon?"
    He waltzed me out a side door into a dank, musty corridor. We stopped moving when he pushed my back to the wall and left not an inch between our bodies.
"Society tells me that you are meek and malleable. That your sex needs to be quiet and biddable and that your station in life must keep you invisible. That
I am somehow a better person than you because I can open jars and was born rich."
    He pressed against me harder and my senses heightened unbearably. His body so firm against my wielding softness. Every place we touched set off sparks,
kindling a dangerous fire. His gaze traveled to my displayed cleavage and back to my lips, where it lingered, before meeting my own again.
    "But we both know none of that is true. You're worth one hundred of me on my best day." He ground the words out in a voice so deep, I felt the baritone of
it in my fluttering stomach. "You pretend to go along with a society that tells me you're somehow less because you were born female, but deep down, you
know it's not true. Why is it that you think it's better to go along with them when they seek to control and subdue you?"
    I couldn't think of anything but the way he could control and subdue me using his voice and the press of his body. He stared at my lips again,