Ghost Image Read Free Page B

course.” Thea lifted her glass. “Perhaps we’ll meet again before the wedding.”
    The string quartet had stopped playing, and someone tapped the bowl of a wineglass to signal the guests assembled around the large dining room table to quiet down. In the silence that followed, Ursula Gilberti’s voice, mingled with a man’s light baritone, carried from the foyer into the dining room. Edward Jaine had arrived.
    Ursula walked in with him on her arm as though she’d just won Jaine as a prize at the county fair. I raised my camera and fired off half a dozen pictures. He was shorter than I expected, dark skinned with jet-black hair, dark eyes, and a cocky, bantam swagger. He was underdressed compared to the other guests in a cashmere camel blazer, open-neck shirt with a cream and camel paisley scarf wound around his neck, worn jeans, and bright turquoise cowboy boots.
    â€œVictor, Yasmin,” Ursula said. “Look who’s here.”
    Victor gave Edward Jaine a polite nod and shook his hand. But Yasmin’s face lit up as he took her hands in his and kissed her on both cheeks. He leaned in and whispered something that made her laugh, caressing one of her curls with his finger and giving her a conspiratorial grin.
    I heard Ursula murmur Kevin’s name as she continued making introductions around the small circle. Jaine held out his hand and said to Ursula, “We know each other. Brother Kevin, nice to see you here.”
    Kevin pretended not to see his outstretched hand. “Good evening, Edward.”
    A muscle twitched in Edward Jaine’s jaw and Ursula took his arm, as though the little slight hadn’t occurred. “Edward, youmust meet our hosts,” she said, turning to the ambassador and his wife.
    Someone touched my arm. Victor stood there holding a glass of champagne. “I saw you turn down the champagne a moment ago, Sophie. Yasmin and I insist that you drink the engagement toast.”
    I looked away from Kevin, who was now talking earnestly to Yasmin, and said, “I’d be honored.”
    â€œVictor, Brother Kevin’s going to say the blessing,” Yasmin said. “I need you.”
    He smiled. “I’m being summoned.”
    He returned to Yasmin’s side, slipping an arm around her waist. She smiled, but I still thought she looked tense. I took more pictures, though Edward Jaine had moved away and was no longer standing next to Ursula. Before I could look around for him, the ambassador introduced Kevin, and everyone grew quiet again.
    â€œHeavenly Father,” Kevin said, “you have gathered us this evening in joy to celebrate the love of Yasmin and Victor. Strengthen their hearts to keep faith with each other on their journey toward marriage and give them wisdom, guidance, and wise counsel to learn truths that will help them in their life together. May all of us here tonight be witnesses to their love for each other. And may they look forward with joy and anticipation to the day when, in the words of St. Matthew, the two shall be one. Amen.”
    I wondered if Kevin had inserted the line about keeping faith with each other after watching Yasmin’s reaction to David Arista or her flirty exchange with Edward Jaine. But the ambassador had begun talking, a lighthearted and gently humorous toast in English and German that ended with everyone clinking glasses and saying “ Pros t .”
    Then Yasmin and Victor cut an enormous Sacher torte, which had been flown in that afternoon from Vienna. By the time I finished taking pictures, Kevin was gone as well.
    I made a tour of all the rooms looking for him until I heard voices, his and Edward Jaine’s, coming from a darkened corridor that led back to the kitchen. I couldn’t catch what they were saying because they were speaking so quietly, but it seemed like an argument.
    Someone called my name and I spun around. Yasmin Gilberti stood there with a nearly empty glass of