Brenda Joyce - [Francesca Cahil 02] Read Free Page B

Burton to be dead at the time; they had both been grief-stricken, frightened, and exhausted. Bragg also had been drinking.
    Still, he had kissed her in a way that no gentleman would ever kiss a respectable lady, he had kissed her and touched her and held her, and she had done all of those things to him as well. Had he forgotten?
    Had the kiss meant anything at all?
    “You are in love with Bragg!” Evan cried.
    Francesca was saved from answering him by the lions.
    Ladies screamed. A few gentlemen cried out. White laughed and with a megaphone began to greet his guests as men in tights and gypsy shirts entered the dance floor using whips to urge four lions on ahead of them. A woman in garters, black hose, a few inches of skirt, and a corset appeared, holding a large hoop. As she was mostly naked, a few gasps sounded. A lion jumped through her hoop.
    “I have promised you all an evening of entertainment,” White was saying. “And by God, you shall have it!”
    The lions were circling the perimeter of the stage at a faster pace, urged on by the four men; one by one, taking turns, each lion jumped through the woman’s hoop. The guests began to applaud. Francesca hugged herself.
    She was crushed. This would not do. They were only friends, after all.
    God damn it.
    “You are upset. Has he led you on?” Evan demanded. “That is who you were with the other night!”
    Only a few days ago, when she had been out extremely late, Evan had found her out. He had not been certain whether to believe her or not when she had told him the truth—that she was working on the Burton Abduction. Francesca faced him angrily. “I am not upset. And no one has led me on. And don’t you dare breathe a word of this to anyone!”
    “Breathe a word of what?” Connie, her sister, appeared at their side, absolutely breathtaking in a pale orange gown and a choker of citrines. It was widely held that the Cahill sisters were as identical as twins, but that was not true. Francesca had always felt that her sister was by far the more beautiful of the pair. She was also stunningly elegant, no matter the time of day. “Now what are you up to, Fran?” Connie asked, but teasingly.
    “She is carrying on with Bragg!” Evan said grimly. He turned his back on them and pushed into the crowd.
    Connie’s elegant brows lifted briefly, and then she turned to Francesca. “That is good news as far as I am concerned. You know I like the commissioner.”
    Francesca did not speak. Fortunately, Julia and Andrew were a short distance away and out of earshot. They were speaking with two other couples, their eyes, however, on the show. Connie did like Bragg. She had been delighted that, finally, at the ripe old age of twenty, Francesca was somewhat romantically inclined toward a gentleman.
    Francesca gazed at her sister and was painfully reminded of the secret she kept from her. Last week, she had discovered Connie’s husband in the throes of passion with another woman. But she had not said a word to her sister of Neil’s affair and treachery.
    It was still unbelievable. Francesca had adored her handsome, aristocratic brother-in-law from the moment she had laid eyes upon him, five years ago. And until last week, she had thought that he adored his wife. Clearly, she had been wrong.
    “Oh, dear,” Connie said, her eyes wide.
    Francesca turned to look at the spectacle and saw the woman riding on the back of one of the lions in her scanty attire. “That looks dangerous,” Francesca remarked tersely.
    “It looks more than dangerous,” Connie said. “So what is wrong, Fran?”
    A few men whistled; the woman waved.
    Francesca shoved her unhappy thoughts of Neil Montrose aside. “Bragg has canceled,” Francesca said. Connie was the only one to know about their date.
    “What?” Connie glanced at her quickly.
    “I am a fool,” Francesca said heavily. “And I am very disappointed.” There, she had dared to admit it.
    Suddenly the crowd was hushed. Francesca glanced