Whirlwind Wedding Read Free Page B

lilacs again assailed him.
    Their eyes met and his breath stalled. Damn it, she looked so delightfully mussed . . . as if a man's hands had disarranged her hair and clothing. His gaze dropped to her mouth. .. her full, incredibly tempting mouth, and he wondered what she would taste like. He imagined leaning forward, brushing his lips over hers, once, twice, then deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue into the luscious warmth of her mouth. She tasted delicious, like— "Oh my."
    Her fingers tightened on his hand and she regarded him with wide eyes.
    Her gaze rested on his lips for several seconds, then she looked away, clearly flustered. Warmth crept through him, surprising him. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she'd read his thoughts.
    He was about to release her hand when she gasped. Their eyes met and he noted she appeared suddenly pale. He tried to extricate his hand from hers, but she only tightened her grip.
    "What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed at her pallor, unnerved by her concentrated stare. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."
    "William."
    He froze. "Excuse me?"
    Her eyes desperately searched his. "Do you know someone named William?"
    Every muscle in his body tensed. "What game are you playing here?"
    Instead of answering, she squeezed his hand between her palms and closed her eyes. "He's your brother," she whispered. "You've been told he died while serving his country." She opened her eyes and the look she leveled at him gave him the eerie sensation she could see right into his soul. "It's not true."
    His blood turned to ice. He pulled his hand from hers and stepped back, shocked by her words. By God did this woman know his darkest secret?
    And if she did, how did she know?
    The images he'd spent the last year trying to erase crashed through his mind. A dark alley. William meeting with a Frenchman named Gaspard.
    Crates of weapons. An exchange of money. Haunting questions. A bitter confrontation between brothers. Then, only weeks later, the news that William had died at Waterloo—a war hero.
    His heart beat heavily in his chest as he fought to remain calm. Could this woman be more than she appeared? Could she know something about the letter he'd recently received or the activities William had conducted with the French? Could she be the clue he'd spent the last year searching for?
    His eyes narrowed on her pale face and he uttered the lie he'd told countless times before. "William died fighting for his country. He is a hero."
    "No, your grace."
    "Are you saying my brother wasn't a hero?"
    "No. I'm saying that he didn't die. Your brother William is alive."

Chapter 2
    Elizabeth felt the onset of the numbing fatigue that sometimes followed a vision. She wanted desperately to sit down, but the suspicion blazing from the duke's eyes held her pinned in place.
    "You will tell me everything you know that makes you claim my brother is alive," he commanded in an icy tone. "Immediately."
    Dear God, why did I say anything? But even as she asked herself, Elizabeth knew the answer. A young woman's face flashed in her mind. . . the beloved friend she'd never see again . . . all because Elizabeth remained silent about a premonition. It was a mistake she'd vowed never to make again.
    And the fact that this William was alive—surely that was joyous news?
    But the hostility and distrust in the duke's eyes indicated she'd spoken too hastily. Yet surely she could convince him she spoke the truth.
    "I know your brother is alive because I saw him—"
    "Where did you see him? When?"
    "Just now." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "In my mind."
    His eyes narrowed to slits. "In your mind? What rubbish is this? Are you daft?"
    "No, your grace. I . . . I am able to see things. In my mind. I suppose some might call it a second sight. I'm afraid I cannot really explain it."
    "And you're saying you saw my brother. Alive."
    "Yes."
    "If that is true, where is he?"
    A frown puckered her brow. "I do not know. My visions are most often vague. I only