Free A Fresh Perspective, A Regency Romance by Elisabeth Fairchild Page B

could she not be like other women and fall under Giovanni’s spell? Her thoughts, to the contrary, were on Reed, who had no sooner met Laura Frost than he disappeared with her. That he should do so left her feeling hurt and angry though she had no real claim to either pain or fury.
    She smiled at Giovanni. He took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips. “Do not, I beg of you,” she said, “tell me that you are in love with me, or some such nonsense. You will find yourself much lowered in my estimation if you do.”
    The smallest frown troubled his noble brow. “ Carra , why should you not believe that I care for you?”
    She could not help but smile. His was a pleasant, even an exquisite face despite the hint of petulance about the corners of his full-lipped mouth. He had the look of a beautiful child, too long coddled.
    “We have not known one another long enough for any declarations of that nature, surely.”
    His gaze passed slowly over the planes of her face, as intimate as a touch, in an examination so comprehensive Megan blushed. “So like,” he said. “So very like. Your features. . .” He ran the tip of his finger along the curve of one burning cheek. “The promise of your sweetness, have long haunted my dreams.”
    “Pretty words, Giovanni, but forgive me if I do not believe you.”
    “You do not believe me? I begin to believe you do not like me.” He pouted.
    “To the contrary. I do like you, but love is not so trivial an emotion that I will admit its presence where it has not had time to grow, much less flourish.”
    His expression changed. For an instant his true feelings evidenced themselves. She puzzled him, she saw. Perhaps it was curiosity drew him to her. She had wondered all along why he would abandon the attractions of Miss Frost’s cool beauty to evidence interest in her. His attentions had been undeniably keen from the moment he had set eyes on her.
    “You do not know love.” His words were a challenge. He softened them with the intimacy of a gesture, in which he reached up to smooth a stray curl away from her eyes.
    “You are wrong about that,” she said softly, gaze drawn to the party of three that staggered toward them--Miss Frost supported between her brother and Reed.
    “Ah! You are in love with him, no?” There was a hint of contempt in his voice.
    “Yes,” Megan admitted, looking away from the trio.
    “And yet, he does not return your affections. He would not allow Miss Frost to lean on him so heavily if it were so.”
    She laughed, the sound harsh. “He does love me. As a brother loves a sister.” She had never admitted as much to herself, much less confided the truth in someone else. How odd that she should pour out her feelings to Giovanni Giamarco, of all people. “It is all the love he has to offer, I think.”
    “The man is a buffone ,” Giovanni whispered. “Has he no idea as to the depths of your feelings?
    “No.” Tears welling in her eyes as she stared into the surprisingly sympathetic depths of Giovanni’s. “He is completely blind to it. Has been for years.”
    “Ah, carra! Non piangere .” He wiped away the tear that spilled to her cheek very gently with the ball of his thumb. “Unrequited love. A tragedy of feeling, my dear. I do understand. Shall we make him geloso , how do you say, jealous? If there are feelings buried within him for you, there is no greater, surer prod than jealousy.”
    She blinked away the threat of another tear, straightened her shoulders and forced a smile. “No. You are very kind to offer, but I will not stoop to lies and fabrication in order to win him, if he is not to be won. I have come on this trip, in fact, with every intention of severing myself from this tragedy of feeling.”
    “Bravo!” Giovanni’s smile was contagious. She did not even bother to contradict him when he crowed happily, “There is hope for the rest of us in such a severing.”
     

Chapter Nine
     
    V ery chummy they were, Megan and the too