by Marina Myles
“Your great-aunt?” Elisabeth asked dubiously.
“Yes.”
“I thought I’d met all of your relatives.”
“Ah, well . . . she lives far away,” he replied.
“Does your aunt have Gypsy blood, too?” Elisabeth whispered.
“No. She’s from my mother’s side—the Hungarian side.”
For a moment, Elisabeth’s face lit up. “Ah, yes. The Hungarian side is where you get your blond good looks.” She brushed the tip of his nose playfully.
Giselle felt nauseous. As she watched Elisabeth bat her eyelashes coyly, it appeared Lucian’s fiancée could change moods and personality at whim. Was the girl putting on an act?
Elisabeth said under her breath, “You know I’m no snob, but I’m glad your great-aunt isn’t a Gypsy. We wouldn’t want tongues wagging during our engagement party.”
Ignoring the comment, Lucian gave Giselle a nod. “Well, Auntie Nina, you are probably exhausted from your trip. And we need to get you into some warm clothes.”
“Yes,” Elisabeth cried. “I shall make sure you are attended to. Come with me, you old dear.” She extended her hand forward.
Giselle accepted it but secretly wanted to yank the girl’s arm off.
Elisabeth helped her off the divan. “It seems you got a nasty bruise on your temple when you fell, Auntie. Do we need to call a doctor for you?”
Giselle shook her head.
“Very well.” Elisabeth paused as they walked to the door. “Why on earth were you hiding behind the curtains?”
Lucian cleared his throat. “She’s mute, but I can answer for her. Aunt Nina loves to play jokes on people, don’t you, Auntie?”
Giselle forced a smile. Inside, of course, she was screaming. Play jokes? She only wished Lucian’s engagement were a prank.
When the trio emerged from the library, they were greeted by low murmurs and curious stares. Lucian stood by Giselle and motioned to his sour-faced housekeeper to take her by the arm. Giselle backed away. Lucian, who seemed puzzled that she refused to go upstairs, tried to get the housekeeper to escort her again. When Giselle continued to stand her ground, he left her, a pained look on his face, in order to join his fiancée for a waltz.
The musicians burst into Giselle’s favorite melody and her eyes locked on the couple. As Lucian swept Elisabeth into his arms, it was obvious that they made an attractive pair. Whirling gracefully around the dance floor, the two moved in perfect synchronization—and when Lucian placed a firm hand on the small of his fiancée’s back and pulled her tightly to him, Giselle’s heart plummeted. Dancing had been her and Lucian’s favorite thing to do. They’d never danced in public, of course, but they would giggle and pretend to be at a ball or a lavish party in the dim light of the sorcery shop—all the while reveling in one another’s embrace.
Elisabeth’s sapphire gown glittered under the gas lamps and her hair caught warm beams of candlelight. Lucian whispered something in the girl’s ear. She looked beautiful and when she dropped her head back in gleeful laughter, Giselle’s stomach roiled.
The more Giselle observed Lucian and Elisabeth, the more the scene sent the irony of her circumstances circling through her mind in time with the music. Elisabeth Dalinsky, who knew nothing of the extraordinary person Lucian used to be, was intruding on Giselle’s dream.
No, Giselle corrected herself. Elisabeth Dalinsky has completely taken my place.
After what felt like an eternity, Lucian and Elisabeth stopped dancing. Breathless, Elisabeth accepted a fan from a friend and said to Lucian, “It’s time, darling.”
“Time?” Lucian questioned.
“Time to make the announcement, silly.”
“Oh, yes.” His lips quirked a partial smile. Still, he hesitated.
“Go on,” she urged in a sugary tone.
Lucian cleared his throat and put a hand up to silence the guests. “Ladies and gentlemen. Please gather around.”
The crowd milled into an attentive herd.
“Thank you for being here,” Lucian said. “It so happens I have a very special announcement.” Gazing into Elisabeth’s eyes, he took her hand. “After courting this lovely woman for some time, I have finally come to my senses.”
The guests chuckled.
“It’s my privilege to announce that I’ve asked Elisabeth Dalinsky to be my wife.”
A round of congratulatory clapping rang out while Lucian pulled a glittering diamond ring from his pocket. He slipped the ring on Elisabeth’s finger and she blushed.
Giselle’s pulse dropped to a slow thud. As if she were caught behind a thick glass wall, she watched guest after guest give Lucian hearty pats on the back and offer nods of approval from behind their fans.
While she made her way to the staircase, she tried desperately to disguise her emotions.
“I am so glad my great-aunt Nina is here for this happy occasion.” Lucian’s voice rose above the excitement.
Giselle turned and stared into the ballroom . . . into Lucian’s sparkling eyes. The room went silent. Mortification spread through her like a relentless virus. Without acknowledging his comment or the guest’s stares, she climbed the staircase.
Her tears erupted just as she encountered the housekeeper.
“I understand you are Mr. Ivanu’s relative,” the reed-thin woman said.
Giselle wiped at her face and nodded.
“How long will you be staying here?”
Giselle was tempted to flee the house, but because she had nowhere else to go, she shrugged.
The housekeeper let out an irritated sigh. “Well, I’m Mrs. Micalotri. Please follow me.”
The woman led Giselle to a posh guest room. Giselle entered it and when she studied its fine furnishings, she spotted a nightshirt lying across a Queen Anne’s chair.
“I hope this garment will suffice,” Mrs. Micalotri said stiffly. “With the party in progress, I haven’t the time to search for a better one.”
How can anyone be so cruel to an elderly person? Giselle clutched her cane and resisted the urge to strike the bitter woman. Little does she know who I am on the inside . . . .
“If you’re hungry, I can have a plate sent up,” Mrs. Micalotri suggested.
Giselle’s stomach gurgled at the mention of food. But the housekeeper’s half-hearted offer prompted her to shake her head.
“Very well,” the woman said curtly before uttering a “Good night.”
Giselle listened to the door click shut. She’d never felt more alone than she did at that moment. It made sense that Lucian couldn’t tell people the truth about her, but his lies had brought her humiliation to a head.
As Giselle trudged slowly to the window, her world crashed around her in heart-wrenching blows. She pushed aside the damask curtains and gazed at the carriages lining the street. Lucian’s newfound acquaintances had come out in droves to hear his happy news—and she could hear their gay laughter floating up from downstairs.
Lucian has a new life, new friends, and a new love.
Shivering from the draft that filtered through the window, Giselle wrapped her arms around her shoulders. How could Lucian have gone through with his engagement announcement after I appeared?
He’d obviously moved on—and while she didn’t expect him to adore an old woman the way he was enamored with the dewy-faced Elisabeth, she wondered if he really cared for the girl.
She changed into the nightgown as her body shook with uncontrolled tears. Lucian refused to help her, but he’d made his decision without knowing of Giselle’s daunting timeline. Ileana claimed that if she ever escaped her grasp, her aging would accelerate at an alarming rate.
I will die of heart failure—just as an old woman typically passes on.
Giselle feared that the end was quickly approaching.
CHAPTER FOUR
In the middle of the party—just as Lucian was about to pop a piece of lemon cake into his mouth, in fact—Taur asked him for a word. Lucian reluctantly agreed. Unstea
dy on his feet from all the liquor he’d been consuming, he moved to the library with his manservant right behind him.
Taur shut the door, his face a mixture of anger and concern. “I listened outside earlier, sir. When you were speaking with the old woman.”
“Damned inappropriate thing to do,” Lucian said as he poured himself another brandy. Was it number five or number six? He’d lost count.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot believe you refused to help her. She’s Giselle Swenov. Your lost love!”
Lucian gulped the brandy down and shrugged. “Didn’t you encourage me to get over her?”
Taur came closer. “That was before we knew what happened to her. I assumed she was gone forever.”
“So did I,” Lucian said with a deep scowl. “Her sudden appearance is making things damned complicated for me.”
“Sir. Now that Giselle is here, she needs your help.”
“I know, but she looks a bit different than she used to.” The fiery alcohol made Lucian’s tongue trip. “And—dash it all—I was a pathetic warlock. I don’t think I can help her.”
“It’s worth a try,” Taur said.
“This is none of your business, Taur!”
The valet lowered his tone. “In the past, I saw the love between you and Giselle. It was the kind of love that could last forever.”
“This is no fairy tale.” Lucian shot the valet a look of contempt. “I buried the ring with my uncle. I cannot just power my way into his mausoleum and say ‘Excuse me. I need that signet band after all.’ ”
“I knew Gregori Ivanu,” Taur said, his expression softening. “He would have wanted you to be happy—and he would have wanted you to use your powers again.”
Lucian hesitated. I hadn’t thought of that. Drawing in a breath, he envisioned his uncle’s face the day he had passed on the ring. “Consider this a gift, my nephew,” he’d said. “You must use it well and guard it with your life.”
Lucian’s own father had died when he was very young, and Gregori had stepped into the paternal role without batting an eyelash. It was something Lucian would always be grateful for. He had felt extremely lost when Gregori passed on.
Taur’s face grew grave. “Your uncle entrusted you with that ring, and you’ve turned your back on his faith in you.”
“Well, Gregori never turned anyone into a bird,” Lucian retorted.
Taur took the brandy snifter from Lucian’s hand and set it on the desk. “Miss Giselle has nowhere else to turn, sir. She distanced herself from her family when she agreed to marry you. And the enchantress she fears may find and punish her at any moment.”
Lucian glowered.
“You must stop this,” Taur instructed.
“Stop Giselle’s pain?”
“No. Pardon me for saying so, sir, but stop acting like a self-absorbed ass.”
Bollocks! Taur was an insolent, clumsy man, but by God, he was right. I’m being a cold-hearted bastard. What’s more, Giselle hadn’t asked him to give up his new life. She simply needed his help.
Lucian closed his eyes for a moment, picturing her face the way it used to be. Luminous ivory skin, fans of thick eyelashes, high pink cheeks, and those rare eyes—astonishing eyes that captivated audiences and completely mesmerized him.
In the moment, the lively music seeping through the walls faded away and Lucian was transported back to the one evening he had made love to Giselle. He’d laid her on the floor of the sorcery shop, under the gentle glow of moonlight. She had looked up at him, as flushed and vibrant as a blooming rose. Then she’d curled her lips around his ear and—.
Taur’s grunt snapped Lucian out of the memory. Feeling his resolve harden, he slammed his fist on the desktop. “Very well. You’ve convinced me, Taur. I’ll offer my help to Giselle first thing in the morning.”
The house seemed eerily quiet after the party guests departed. Elisabeth gave her attendant permission to go to the kitchen to have some cake and champagne—and now that she was alone with Lucian, she snuggled against his shoulder.
“The silence is nice,” she said as they sat on the library divan.
“It is,” Lucian agreed.
She slid her hand up his chest and held on to his lapel. As she leaned toward him, a hint of her lily-white breasts rose above the neckline of her dress. Lucian eyed her full décol-letage but turned away seconds later, uninterested.
She drew back. “The party went smashingly.”
“Do you think so?” he asked.
“All except for the clumsy arrival of your great-aunt.” She giggled.
Although a cheery fire crackled and sputtered in the hearth, Lucian’s foul mood wasn’t lightened by its ambiance. “My aunt isn’t clumsy.” He growled. “She fell and hit her head. For Christ’s sake, she’s almost ninety years old!”
“I’m sorry,” Elisabeth murmured.
Rising, Lucian stalked to the hearth and leaned one hand on the mantel.
Elisabeth smoothed her dress and placed her hands primly in her lap. “I have a feeling you aren’t telling me the truth about your great-aunt Nina,” she said. “You know you can confide in me.”
“I don’t consider it any of your business,” he said. Why was she prying? Was this the way their marriage would go? Her questioning everything—and him pacifying her? If that were the case, he wasn’t going to like it one bit.
Lucian spun around. Moving back to the divan, he crossed his arms and took a wide stance. Opening his mouth to speak, he took in her beauty—from her creamy skin that glowed in the firelight, to her glossy lips that caught the light the same way. Then he cringed inside. She was exquisite but, confound it, he didn’t love her. “I suppose I have been keeping something from you,” he began.
Elisabeth perked up. She patted the cushion next to her. Lucian knelt before her instead of sitting.
“I prefer to look you in the eye when I say this. The truth is: I was engaged in the past. To a woman named Giselle Swenov.”
The color in Elisabeth’s cheeks drained. “The famous opera star?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?” she asked faintly.
“Giselle stood me up on our wedding day.”
“That’s terrible!” She paused. “I don’t understand. Why would she do such a thing?”
Lucian frowned. “I discovered the reason tonight and. by God, her leaving me at the altar wasn’t something she chose.”
“If you’re aware of this—” Elisabeth raised an eyebrow “then you must know where she is.”
“I do.”
“Did your great-aunt Nina tell you?”
“You could say that.”
Guilt washed over Lucian. He reached for her hand. “You are a wonderful girl. A girl any man would be proud to call his wife.”
“Yes?” Hope shimmered in her eyes.
“Alas, I’ve decided to postpone our wedding.”
She blinked back tears. “We just got engaged, Lucian. How could you do this to me?”
“I’m sorry. I feel like a fiend for possibly breaking your heart. Even though I am risking that, I must ask you to wait for me.”
She squeezed his hand. Nodding forlornly, she started to remove her engagement ring. He stopped her with a shake of his head.
“Please keep it,” he said as kindly as he could. “I just need more time to think.”
Tears edged over her cheeks. “You have broken my heart tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Elisabeth,” he repeated. He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Unfortunately, it’s late and I’m exhausted. If you’d like, you may stay here tonight with your attendant. I know you have a long drive home.”
“Yes, I’d like that. Thank you,” she said.
As they made their way out of the room, she put a hand on his arm. “Are you conflicted because you haven’t gotten over Giselle Swenov?”
“No,” Lucian replied with a flare of his nostrils. “It’s because I am the only person who can help her.”
The nex
t morning, dawn’s light peeked through the curtains Giselle had drawn before falling asleep. She peeled her eyes open to the sight of Lucian’s face hovering over hers. The pity in his stare heated her face.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he murmured. “I was just . . . remembering.”
She grabbed a piece of paper from her bedside table drawer and wrote, Remembering what? My beauty?
He nodded sheepishly.
Well, you don’t have to feel sorry for me. I, too, want to be the woman I was. I came to ask you for help. Now I’ll leave you and Elisabeth to live your lives.
At that, Lucian slid off the bed and took a turn around the room. He was wearing a finely cut charcoal jacket, matching vest, and a thin necktie wrapped around a wing-tip collar. His clothing was of the latest fashion and he wore it extremely well.
As Giselle watched him move, her hands began to quiver. She made herself avert her eyes.
“I’m sorry you had to hear my engagement announcement last night,” he said.
Giselle shrugged. As she inched her body higher against the headboard, every muscle in her body ached. She scribbled, Your pacing is making me dizzy, Lucian. Come sit beside me.
When she held up the paper for him to see, he exhaled and did as she asked.
What is really bothering you? she wrote. Then she gave him a rueful smile.
He took in a breath. “Hearing what happened to you turned my world upside down, Giselle. I’m damned worried now. I want to concentrate on changing you back.”
Did Taur persuade you to come to my aid? she wrote.
A blush spread over his honey-colored skin. “Yes, damn it.”
Relief that Lucian was going to help rifled through her as she set the pen down and touched his arm. Suddenly, she remembered seeing her smooth hand on the same spot. They had been a fervent couple then. Consumed by her passion, Giselle had willingly surrendered her virginity to him. It was their secret to keep—and she cherished the memory of the night they spent alone in the back of the sorcery shop.
Snapping back to reality, she grasped the pen again and wrote, I don’t know Elisabeth, but I suspect she isn’t putting her true face forward.