Chapter Two #2
“There you go again,” Macie said. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Squinting for a clearer look at the man in question, Nell lamented her own vanity. She should have brought her spectacles. If only they had fit inside her small reticule, that might’ve solved everything.
“I do believe a ghost sighting might be preferable.”
“Now that has the ring of truth, my friend.” Macie flashed a brief grin. “So, what has upset you? You must tell me.”
“I am not upset,” Nell said.
“Well, you certainly look a bit uneasy,” Macie countered.
“I suppose the truth is this—I am exceedingly confused.”
“In this moment, that certainly applies to both of us.” Macie’s attention shifted to the cake table. Her eyes gleamed with warmth and excitement. “Oh, it looks like Penelope and Bradley are preparing their wedding toast. We simply must watch.”
Her friend was right, Nell decided. She was not about to miss this lovely moment of the celebration.
Following closely as Macie wove through the crush toward the newly wedded couple, Nell tossed a glance over her shoulder toward the men. More precisely, toward the broad, black-clad back of the gentleman who was now facing Finn. They appeared to be engaged in a spirited conversation.
Her imagination—inspired by the fountain and its blasted wishes—was playing a trick on her. That had to be it. No other explanation made sense.
Pulling in a low, calming breath, Nell turned her attention to the bride and her handsome groom. Absolutely radiant with happiness, Penelope looked upon her husband with clear adoration as she recited a simple promise to always see him through the eyes of love.
Minutes later, after the father of the bride and the groom had each uttered a touching toast, Penelope cut the wedding cake.
“You’re partial to lemon cake, aren’t you?” Macie asked.
“It is my favorite.”
“I understand this cake is lemon with a vanilla cream frosting.”
“It sounds utterly decadent.” Nell eyed a guest as he passed by with a plate bearing a thick slice of the cake. “And delicious.”
“I had intended to wait until Finn joined us before I indulged my sweet tooth, but he might well be there all night, hashing out some problem or another.” Macie tossed a glance toward her husband. “I am far too impatient.”
Nell followed the path of her friend’s gaze. Seeing Finn and Logan still involved in a rather animated discussion, she could not help but wonder about the whereabouts of the third man who had joined them. Had he already departed the reception?
“You’ve been throwing none-too-subtle glances at the Duke of Arrinton all night,” Macie said with a cagy little grin. “Have the two of you struck up an acquaintance?”
“I’m sorry, but I do not follow,” Nell said. This time, it was the truth. She let out a breath in a rush. “But there is something else… Oh, you may believe me a bit tipsy. I don’t know if I should even speak the words.”
“Now you simply must tell me.” Macie’s eyes gleamed with interest. “It would be cruel to leave me in suspense.”
“Very well. I observed a man who seemed very… familiar,” Nell began. “If the odds were not so wildly against it, I’d be tempted to believe Rafe is here.”
Macie’s eyes lit as she made the connection. “Is he the artist in Paris?”
“Yes.” Nell kept her chin up, even as the memories pierced her heart.
“As I recall, you told me the mere thought of your name on his lips made your teeth clench,” Macie said with authority. “For a time, you even started going by another nickname.”
Nell nodded. “I never should have allowed that man to vex me so deeply.”
“Personally, I am glad you’ve gone back to being Nell. To my ears, it’s you.”
“I agree,” she said, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her chest.
“So, where is he?” Macie asked, scanning the room. “The fellow who reminds you of the artist.”
“He was standing right there.” Nell gestured toward Macie’s husband. “With Finn.”
“I am looking at Logan as we speak.” Her friend’s forehead furrowed slightly. “Perhaps you are in need of your spectacles.”
“I clearly recognized Logan.” Nell sent her friend a pinched look. “I was referring to the other man who was with them. They appeared to be engaged in a discussion.”
The little creases in Macie’s forehead deepened. “I don’t understand.” She glanced at her husband. “Finn was speaking with the duke. I don’t recall seeing anyone else.”
“Well, then, I suppose I was entirely mistaken. That is a relief.” Pretending she’d swept her troubles away, Nell deliberately brushed her forehead with the back of her hand. Intending to change the subject, she forced a faint smile. “Shall we have a taste of the wedding cake?”
Exchanging greetings and snippets of conversation with guests, Nell and Macie wove their way through the crowd to the cake table. Macie helped herself to a thick slice. “My, this looks absolutely scrumptious.”
Nell agreed with a nod, then selected a thinner piece brimming with frosting. Pivoting on her heel to follow Macie, she lightly collided with a man. With his broad back, to be precise.
“I beg your—”
He slowly turned to face her.
Nell’s words hung in the air.
She lifted her gaze, meeting the hazel-green eyes of the man who’d once shattered her heart. One corner of his mouth tilted upward in that roguish way of his.
“Hullo, Nell.”