A Madness in Spring by Kate Noble Page A

much to ask that I have some small say in my life? My parents died when I was nine and everything changed. Since then I have worked very hard to arrange things very much how I like them. And now you want to change it and I…”
    Her voice died, and silence echoed in its place. The dim noise from partygoers walking up and down the hall was drowned out by the beating of her own heart. By the painful weight of her confession.
    “Things have already changed between us,” he finally whispered. “It happened a long time ago. And it wasn’t one big shift. It wasn’t Georgie and Francesca. It happened an inch at a time, over years. It just took us this long to see the road we had traveled clearly.
    “I knew you were scared,” he said. “But I couldn’t figure out why you would be scared of me. God knows, if I had upset you in some way, you would have taken my head off with a single set down. But I didn’t realize until now that you have been scared for the last fourteen years.”
    His hand found that loose tendril of her hair, and he lightly wound it around his finger. Her eyes lifted, searching the dark for his face.
    “You were scared when we first met, because you were new to the neighborhood and your parents had died, and you wanted to be liked and needed friends, and I mistook it for being a bossy know-it-all. You were scared of not being taken seriously at your first ball. You were scared when I left for war, and even more scared when I came back. And you were scared when we kissed.”
    She his hand lifted from her hair to the line of her jaw. Her arms, crossed over her chest, fell to her sides.
    “You’re afraid of what will happen if we let things change. But Belinda, I’m afraid of what will happen if we don’t.”
    And then… he couldn’t say anything more. Because somehow, his lips had found hers in the dark.
    Or was it the other way around? Belinda didn’t know. All she knew was that comfortable uncomfortableness, that delightful drugging settled over her skin and she didn’t want to think anymore. Her mind surrendered to the dark, and her body took over. And her body only wanted to feel.
    It acted against every good objection her mind might have offered. Her arms came up, wrapped themselves around his neck. Her fingers found their way into his hair. Her breasts, entirely of their own volition, pressed against the broad expanse of his chest.
    His hands pulled her to him, traveled up and down the length of her back, smoothing the silk. Gathering it in his hand. The cool air danced against her calf, then her thigh. Then his touch warmed her there.
    And her body wanted nothing more than to let him explore. And to explore in turn.
    There was a desperation to him, banked by what must have been an iron will. But as they teased each other with little bites and exploring fingers, some of that will must have crumbled because there was one thing he could not hold back.
    “I love you.”
    He whispered the words into her ear, and they floated into her brain. They echoed there, waking up her mind like a kernel of light, growing and expanding, showing the little priest hole – and what they were doing in it – in all its garishness.
    She froze. Her mind panicked. That wasn’t what she wanted. That was too much at once – too uncontrollable.
    His mouth lifted from her neck as he felt her still. “Belinda?” His voice was hoarse with want.
    “I… I’m sorry.” She said, quickly disentangling herself from him.
    Then she threw open the painting, shining harsh light into the little room, and ran.
    Again.

 
    Chapter Nine
----
     
    “T here you are, Bel! We’ve been waiting ages!”
    Belinda blinked as she entered Croftburr’s front parlor. Her uncle sat across from Francesca and Georgie, who were all enjoying morning tea, complete with scones and sandwiches enough to stuff a regiment.
    Although, was it even morning anymore? Belinda glanced at the mantle clock… good heavens, was that the time?
    “I’m