Free Moonlight Masquerade by Kasey Michaels Page B

hand around his arm as they climbed the slope
that led to what she assumed was a small rise overlooking the east
end of the grounds. It had been just at the crest of this small
knoll that she had first seen him standing alone, facing down the
elements. “I don’t believe I have ever been called dangerous
before. I think I rather like it.” She looked about as they walked
on and said, “Oh, it’s so beautiful here, isn’t it? So peaceful and
serene.”
    His look was considering. “Yes, you would
think that, wouldn’t you?” he said softly, slipping his arm free so
that he could take her hand in his. “Come with me, dangerous lady,
and I’ll show you real danger.” Tugging on her hand, he led her to
the top of the gentle slope, stopping just as they reached the edge
of a sheer cliff that fell away fifty feet or more to the flatter
land below.
    It had been so sudden. One moment they had
been safe, secure, strolling through a winter wonderland, and the
next moment they were poised on the edge of a precipice, in
imminent danger of falling to their deaths.
    Christine’s smile faded and she turned to
him, holding onto his arm with both hands as she buried her face
against his shoulder. “That’s not funny!” she declared, hating the
way her voice shook. He had looked so serene that night in the
garden, yet he had been deliberately flirting with death, even
courting it! Why? “I didn’t know this cliff was here.”
    “There are times life doesn’t afford us the
luxury, or the curse, of knowing what lies ahead.” Vincent stood
very still, feeling her tremble against him, hating himself for his
impulsive action.
    He knew how she felt. He hadn’t known his
own particular cliff had been there either, waiting for him to
stumble, not until he had been tumbling down it, turning over and
over until his life lay smashed and broken at the bottom. His life,
and Arabella’s life, and Fletcher’s life.
    “I’m sorry, Christine,” he said, meaning it.
“I think I was trying to teach you something in my own obscure,
twisted way. Come along now, we should return to the house before
we are missed.”
    “No, not yet, please. I want to stay here a
minute longer, and look.” Something inside Christine told her that
this was an important moment, important for Vincent as well as
herself.
    She stood firm, willing herself to peer
downward, past the edge of the cliff and at the land below. “I
don’t think I was as much frightened as I was surprised, Vincent.
And yes, I know that we are not privileged to know our fates in
time to avoid some heartache. But we wouldn’t really be living our
lives to the full if we knew everything, would we? We’d merely be
acting out a part where we knew all the lines, could anticipate all
the moves. I should think that would be very boring.”
    “Yet infinitely safer,” Vincent added,
slowly drawing her back, away from the edge. She was making him
decidedly nervous. “You are very young, Christine. An infant. You
really haven’t lived yet, you haven’t had time. Life is perfect for
you, perfect and beautiful. But nothing is so beautiful that it
cannot be destroyed, snatched away when you least suspect it. When
you get to London and are surrounded by handsome young men begging
for your hand, you will remember that, won’t you?”
    Christine was still holding tightly to his
arm. “London,” she muttered, her head down as she minded her steps.
“I had almost forgotten my debut. It’s Aunt Nellis’s idea, you
know. She has such high hopes for my future. I think she is living
her life over again through me, poor dear. She never married, you
know.”
    “Yes, I had gathered that,” Vincent said, so
that Christine couldn’t be sure just what he had understood about
her aunt, although she was fairly certain he could see through the
older woman as if she were a freshly scrubbed pane of glass.
    “We really can’t afford a Season,” Christine
blurted out, feeling she could tell him