Adoringly, Edward (Letters to Love #5)

CHAPTER ONE

SHE SHOULDN’T BE HERE.

In fact, this was the last place someone with her glorious bloodline, as her mother liked to call it, should find themselves considering the flowing drinks, the scandalous company, and the freedom of self expression.

But for one night, she wasn’t Vivienne Winfield, daughter of the Edilann warlord, niece of the king himself, and cousin to the younger Prince Sterling. She was simply Vivi. And all she wanted was to have a good time with nothing held back.

Vivienne’s stomach clenched with excitement as she stepped down from her carriage and smoothed the soft fabric of her black ball gown accentuated with red rosettes. The sleeves draped off her shoulders, and the bodice dipped low. It matched the black velvet half-mask resting over her eyes covered with red, floral lace.

She straightened her elbow-length black gloves and fixed her stare on the man allowing people into the party at the beautiful, mysterious estate. The large, black-spired structure had been abandoned for years. Or, at least, no one knew who actually owned the estate. Only that when word got out about the elusive masquerade, the event that happened once a year at different locations, she knew she had to attend.

She side-stepped on the path to avoid a carriage pulling off to the side of the road and eyed the invitations in the back pocket of a man’s trousers several paces ahead of her. Invitations had been handed out personally by a man shrouded in a dark cloak, or so said a few testimonies of those who had claimed to see the mysterious personage.

To her grievance, she had not received an invitation herself.

In a quick movement, she bent her foot to the side and managed to snap the heel off her shoe, which caused her to “stumble” forward upon losing her balance. Her shriek alerted the man ahead of her, who just barely managed to catch her before she crashed into the ground.

In his momentary distraction, she slipped one of the invitations out of his back pocket and stuffed it down the sleeve of her glove.

“Forgive me!” she gasped, clutching onto the man’s thin arms like a damsel in distress. “I don’t know what I would have done should you not have caught me.”

The man righted her and searched the ground, likely for the other half of her shoe. “Tis no trouble, milady. It’s only a shame your shoe seems to have wandered off.”

She patted his chest reassuringly and took him up on his offer for her to cut in line in front of him. She approached the man allowing people through the door with a rickety step when half her shoe was gone. When she presented the invitation, he nodded his head for her to enter.

Vivienne stepped into the dark ballroom with candles flickering from sconces on the walls and an enormous chandelier sparkling overhead. She inhaled a long, excited breath at the intensity of the music played by a small orchestra. Each musician dressed in black and wore masks of their own. She admired the dark, dancing gowns of women twirling around their well-dressed partners, taking in the carefree laughter, hidden identities, and absolute abandon.

“I saw that,” someone said behind her, startling her into spinning around.

A man wearing a tailored black dress suit leaned casually against a gray stone pillar. A simple black mask covered the top half of his face. Black hair swept over his mask, longer in the front than in the back. And in his hand…

He twirled the missing piece of her shoe between his fingers, watching her with an air of nonchalance. Almost boredom. But she didn’t miss the spark of excitement in his eyes that lived in her own.

Instead of defending herself and denying his silent accusation, she slipped her shoes off, tossed them to the side, and approached him with only stockings covering her bare feet. His intense gaze held hers throughout the entire duration of her short journey toward him. Another knot tied her stomach into a beautiful bow. The man was handsome. And she most certainly enjoyed the way he looked at her as if she were the only woman in the entire room.

She reached for her broken heel. Their fingers brushed. And it was as if a spark jolted from her fingertips, down her arm, and into her frenzied heart.

“I deserved an invitation,” she said, her fingers still resting against his over the heel.

“Did you?” He leaned closer until the breath from his lips brushed against her cheek. “Because if so, you would have received one.” But then he leaned back, and her breath caught at the way his mouth curved up in a grin. “However, I have no doubt the issuer of invitations would have been impressed with the way you acquired one, nonetheless.”

“I had an extra!” the man from earlier cried out, his voice shoving its way through the door. “I swear! It was here in my pocket mere minutes ago.”

“I sacrificed a good pair of shoes for it,” she replied quietly, trying to hide her devious smile but not quite managing it, especially when an amused smirk lifted on his own lips.

Finally, he relinquished her broken heel, and she tucked it safely inside the hidden pocket of her dress, waiting to find out if he would rat her out to whomever their host might be.

He didn’t.

Rather, he continued leaning a shoulder against the pillar, his attention still fixed on her. “Would you like to dance?”

Vivienne tapped a playful finger against her bottom lip. “I would love to. But with whom? No one has offered a poor girl in distress his hand for the dance floor.”

Laughter escaped his mouth, and the pleasant sound alone sent a wave of flutters through her chest. She enjoyed the way his mouth curved into a smile, the way his teeth gleamed in the dim light, the way his body language exuded confidence with even the smallest movements.

“You are hardly a girl in distress. You can handle yourself just fine.” He took her hand and pulled her closer until she bumped into his chest. “Dance with me.”

She offered a playful, coy smile as she took his other hand and walked backward toward the dance floor, pulling him with her just as the musicians struck up another song. Only then did she realize she had not glanced away from him once since their chance meeting. She could not bring herself to look away when she found herself so taken with him.

The man took the lead, stepping into a dance as if he’d done it thousands of times.

Oh! She inhaled sharply at the realization. Just from his steps alone, she could tell he had extensive ballroom training. He was someone like her. Possibly even someone in her circle. Which intrigued her even more.

Within moments, she relaxed in his arms, following his lead around the room. They slipped by dozens more couples, the tables filled with refreshments and drinks, and twirled past the musicians, all without losing a single step. Not once did his movements falter. Not once did he squish her toes with his elegant, masterful feet.

Her heart pounded within her as she leaned closer to him until their bodies were pressed together. Her head rested on his shoulder. His fingers tightened around her waist.

“What color are your eyes?” she asked as their steps slowed, and their bodies swayed to the music. “I cannot tell in this lighting.”

“Dark blue,” he murmured against her hair.

How silly it seemed that she felt immensely comfortable in his presence already, as if she had known him for much longer than she had. Like coming home to a dear friend. Surely, he was someone she already knew.

“Are we already acquainted?”

A smile lifted on his lips as he shook his head. “I would have remembered you.”

And then the song ended all too quickly, and the musicians started the next set. She couldn’t bring herself to release him, and he made no move to do so either. Rather, he silently led her in another dance and another until her feet ached and her face hurt from smiling so much.

“Tonight is certainly a night for scandal, mysterious stranger.” She laughed as she stepped closer and placed a hand on his chest. “You’ve danced far more dances with me than is appropriate.”

“I don’t want to let you go.”

She lowered her voice to a husky whisper. “Then don’t.”

His dark blue gaze passed between her eyes for several long moments before he tightened his grip on her hand. He pulled her off the dance floor and up two flights of stairs while the music slowly faded behind them and people became scarcer. They entered a small room with a single ladder leading to a trapdoor overhead.

He climbed up first and opened the trapdoor, the hinges groaning in protest, before glancing down with an issued challenge in his eyes. A sense of thrill alighted in her heart as she gathered her masses of skirts in her arms and climbed after him.

Although she wrestled with her skirts the entire way, when she reached for the top, he gripped her hand and heaved her out the rest of the way until they stood on a small, fenced platform high above the rest of the world.

The breath faltered in her lungs at the magnificent view of the forests, the mountains, and even the Edilann palace—her home—in the distance. Lazy white clouds streaked across the dark canvas of the sky, the edges glowing silver when passing over the moon.

She spotted rows of carriages far down below while guests ambled about the garden. A light breeze scattered fallen leaves across the brick path weaving around bare trees and dormant bushes. Lanterns lit up the property like small specks of starlight, creating a mysterious yet intriguing atmosphere.

Mysterious and intriguing…just like the man beside her.

“Who owns this place?” she breathed out a frosty breath, but then she inhaled sharply as he placed his hand on top of hers where it rested on the black bars of the balcony.

“No one knows,” he replied, following her gaze toward the torch-lined drive. “Some say it belongs to a reclusive man who only comes out during the autumn months.” His mouth twitched at his own jest. “Others say it’s haunted by a ghost, so no one dares to set foot inside.”

“I sure hope it’s haunted. That’s rather exciting.”

He laughed and turned toward her, leaning against the balcony with his elbows resting behind him. His lack of fear was admirable, and she dared to admit to herself that she enjoyed his carefree, ready-to-take-on-the-world attitude. It was…refreshing. Her home life didn’t allow for such freedom and happiness.

His eyes sparkled with humor. “I also heard a ghost lives on the third floor. What do you say? Should we find out if it’s friendly or malevolent?”

“You seem like you know your way around,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “You lead.”

Rather than returning through the trapdoor, the man’s intense gaze held hers as he stepped closer and trapped her chin with gentle fingers.

Her entire body stilled with eager anticipation, a thrill shooting through her from her head to her toes. Already, this forbidden adventure was more than she ever dared to hope for. She hadn’t known what to expect after stepping foot inside the estate. But it wasn’t this.

And she loved every second of it.

She stood on her toes to meet him halfway until their lips met in the faintest brush like a whispered word of affection. Her stomach flipped and fluttered, her heart squeezing with joy and excitement.

More daringly, she smoothed her hands over his chest, his shoulders, and her fingers brushed playfully against the ties keeping his mask on his face. So desperately, she wanted to slip his mask off to reveal his identity. But she feared such knowledge might shatter the mysterious illusion the night offered.

The man groaned against her lips and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, which she all too eagerly accepted. It was as if he felt the same spark. The same connection. The same happiness rising in her own chest.

He backed her up into the railing, and another thrill shot through her at the danger the kiss offered. If a single bar broke loose, they could plummet to their deaths.

And unfortunately, she loved the danger it posed.

A sigh escaped her as he trailed his kisses over her jaw, down her neck, and across her bare shoulders. His lips were fire. And she was the yearning kindling.

His attention returned to her mouth, his fingers threading through her hair, and his kisses slowing into something more gentle like a flickering candle flame rather than a blazing torch.

“I didn’t attend the masquerade for this,” he murmured, placing another kiss over a strand of her hair between his fingers. “To find someone. I was not expecting anything at all.”

“Why did you come?”

“For escape.”

“Same as I.”

They held each other’s gaze, and she realized they were more similar than she knew. Locked in a cage, banging at a sealed door with no way out. But tonight, they’d both found a way out. At least for a time. And she refused to squander what little time she might have remaining.

Running her finger over her lips, she smiled coyly. “You kissed me and we only just met.”

“Like you said, tonight is a night for adventure and scandal.”

Oh, she certainly liked him far more than she should, far more than what was appropriate, especially considering her status in society.

But she didn’t care. Because she was just Vivi tonight.

“What is your name?” she asked. He opened his mouth as if to answer, but she quickly pressed a finger to his lips to stop his words. “Actually, don’t tell me. It’s more fun not knowing.”

His lips pressed together with obvious discontent. “I don’t want tonight to simply be a dream. To wake up in the morning to find out none of this was real. I don’t want to let you go.”

Warmth buried its seed in her heart, giving her hope. “Tonight won’t end. I don’t doubt you’ve come to the same conclusion as I have—we run in the same circle.”

He nodded. “I have guessed as much.”

She grinned, excitement radiating from her eyes. “Tonight won’t end. Because when we find each other in the real world, our reunion will be that much sweeter.”

Finally, the spark returned to his eyes, a smile to his handsome mouth as he grabbed her hand and led her to the trapdoor. “I believe we still have a ghost to hunt.”

They laughed as they simultaneously attempted to sneak around the third floor hand in hand with discretion. But even over the loud music emanating from downstairs, she was sure others could hear them, the besotted fools they were.

A few rooms were locked or occupied, but for the most part, the party guests were downstairs or outside.

As they traveled down a darkened corridor, gooseflesh raised on her arms at the way the wind whistled through a crack in the windows, at the way door hinges groaned as if being opened slowly.

Vivienne tightened her grip on the man’s hand as they slowed their pace before peering around the corner into an older, dustier part of the estate. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling. Furniture was scarred or broken. The wood floors were scratched. A chill lingered in the air, raising more gooseflesh on her arms and legs.

And then all too suddenly, a door slammed somewhere behind them.

Vivienne screamed, and the shriek that escaped the man spurred her heart into a fast, fearful rhythm. They continued to scream as they ran hand in hand down two flights of stairs, across velvety carpets leading to the back of the estate, and out the back entrance. They didn’t stop running, even when rocks dug into her feet, even when the bite of cold air climbed up her neck and into her bones.

He threw open a random, empty carriage door. The two of them dove inside and slammed the door behind them. Only for silence to greet them.

Nothing chased them or tried to force their way into their small, protective space. All was quiet and normal and peaceful.

Finally, Vivienne realized just how silly they must have looked to passersby. She burst into laughter, sagging against the man where he was splayed out on the floor of the carriage. He soon joined in, and they were overcome with post-fear hysterics.

But then she quickly silenced his laughter by pulling him in for a heated kiss and then another until the bitter chill of autumn was dispelled by each passionate, heated breath. She didn’t know how it was possible, how she could have already fallen for someone she’d only barely met. She wanted this to last. Not just for a single night. Not even for a week. But for many more months and years to come.

“What is the consensus?” he murmured against her lips.

“Oh, it most certainly is haunted,” she replied as she loosened his cravat with desperate, eager fingers. “No doubt about it.”

With a mischievous smile on her face and a wicked glint in her eye, she untied the curtains so they fell over the windows. And then shut the rest of the world out with a simple turn of a lock.