Caprice: The Masqueraders Series - Book One by Parker Laura

Author:Parker, Laura [Parker, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: FICTION/Romance/Regency
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2013-11-25T18:30:00+00:00

Clarissa could not sleep. The candle by her bedside flamed as brightly as ever. It was a quarter past three A.M. She had been home from the rout since two, but her head was awhirl with thoughts both old and new.

She looked down at the gold locket she held in her lap. She had not meant to look at it again, but as she prepared for bed, she had chanced to see it lying in the bottom of her jewelry case. And then she remembered.

Evelyn had been killed at Vitoria on June 21, 1813. In just three days, her year of mourning would be officially at an end.

She slid a buffed nail under the edge of the lid, flipped the locket open, and lifted it closer for a better look at what it contained. It was a fine miniature of Evelyn in his Infantry uniform of red coat and gold braid. The portraitist had caught the exact shade of his robin’s-egg-blue eyes and the smooth sheen of his golden hair. He appeared boyish and strong and handsome and brave, and just a little too earnest. All of which he had been. Why had she not been able to love him as much as he deserved?

The question had kept her awake many a night at the beginning of her widowhood, but now there was a new and urgent need to understand and find an answer.

She was in love again, desperately, tremblingly, unlike the time before. What was the difference? Was it she, the circumstance, experience, or something more? If she could not understand the difference, was she not bound to make the same mistakes? Not that she was being given the chance. Lord Ramsbury’s interest was in Princess Soltana, and Princess Soltana did not even exist. It was all quite impossible!

She and Evelyn had been married less than a year and, because he was often away, they shared a bed less than thirty times. Their nights of lovemaking had been even fewer. If he had lived, would they have worked out their problems, or would she have simply grown accustomed to his often-uncomfortable and frustrating lovemaking? Or, would they have grown increasingly resentful of each other until nothing remained but duty and habit?

How remote all conjecture seemed. A feeling of unreality pervaded every thought of Evelyn and their marriage. She had been a widow a year, yet she had lost Evelyn long before that. Perhaps it was nearer the truth to say that through no fault of their own, they had never belonged to each other. Still, a good and brave young man had died a year ago.

She ran a finger fondly over the tiny face as a tear slipped from her eye. “I did care for you, Evelyn. But not as I had wished. Forgive me.”

More tears came after that, quite enough to dampen the bodice of her gown. Finally they abated. She got out of bed quickly, not quite certain what she had in mind. She donned her dressing gown and slippers and then opened her door, expecting the hall to be dark.

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