Hidden Places, Book 1 of Autumn Club Series

Chapter 2

The light from the cigar's ember moved from his face, and smoke drifted up from the dukes mouth as he exhaled.

Katrina gasped. She thought she was alone. How long had he been there? Why hadn't she smelled the tobacco smoke?

Even in the dark she could see him look at her with those assessing eyes. Then he stepped forward towards her.

She stepped back two steps putting her directly in the pale light of the window. It was like she was on display. At a disadvantage to the onlooker. Prey in an open field.

"P-Pardon me, your grace." She meekly stated with down cast eyes and a tremble in her voice. "I'll just scoot around you h-here, and return to the t-terrace." She made a move to the right of the duke, but he grabbed her left upper arm.

"You shouldn't be out here alone, should you, miss...?"

"Lady K-Katrina Hughes, your grace." She said with a slightly dipped curtesy as though his fingers banding her upper arm was a common social nicety. "And no, your grace, I would most definitely find myself scolded by my mother and most likely my brother if they knew I was out here...alone."

She felt like she was a babbling, stuttering mess. This conversation needed to end.

The duke snuffed out his cigar on the stone wall, and turned to better face her. The hand that once held the cigar came up to Katrina's face and slowly plucked the spectacles off her nose. She gasped again at the personal invasion of space.

"Your g-grace..." she yelped.

"Sh, sh, sh, little Kat." And he stepped both of them closer to the glowing window.

The nerves that Katrina had relaxed earlier upon her escape to the terrace came back in full force with his familiarity and movement. She was sure he could feel her trembling.

"You like to hide yourself away, hm? Behind a plant, glasses, or a lock of hair." He said in hushed tones as he gathered and twirled a long stray curl that fell past her chest. "But it would seem you aren't very good at it."

"N-no, your grace. I-I have need of my spectacles, a-and my hair is just...my hair has a mind of it's own I guess." She looked down in shame as she said the rest. Her long thick hair had always been a hassle. It was always fighting gravity. And is not a fashionable color. Just a boring brown.

"You aren't very young are you, hm? Hidden away for so long, kitten," he changed the subject. He took the curl and tucked it in to the rest of her hair. "Someone will find you. And then what will you do, kitten? You clearly don't have claws. Perhaps just purr at them?"

He said the last bit not really as a question, but with a low hum. The hand that tucked in her hair moved to her cheek and cupped it. His eyes still so intense. Katrina slightly pushed her face into his palm, but straightened up immediately when she realized what she had done.

"Mm, purring like a good girl. Perhaps being found is what you need. I'm sure under the silks and curls one would find many hidden... attributes ."

"P-please unhand me, your grace. I am not lost or hidden or some feral animal that needs...petting. I'm just an old maid with bad eyes. So, please let me go in peace!" She hissed out.

"Lost? I didn't say 'lost.' 'Lost' implies that you do not know where you are. You know where you are...and you hate it. You want this all over with," he said gesturing to the ball. "This unknown future, this push to decide, this pomp and pious nonsense."

"Well, yes. This is all..." waving her free arm "...utter bullshit. I must decide to marry a man after a few meetings and dances. I must make a decision for a lifetime in a few short months. Over and over, year after year until I'm looked at as a failure.

And you in your silks hide things as well, your grace. Obviously not your arrogance, but no man could enjoy returning to a life already planned out by virtue of birth and society. You must manage your estates, attend the House of Lords, marry and breed a male heir. So now are gone your adventures and carefree youth. But you hide more. A shaved head, tattooed flesh, muscles of a fighter! You hide a savage under the silks of a gentleman!" She spoke her accusations quickly, afraid of his reaction.

"Touché, kitten. So perceptive. I am quite the 'savage' as you say. Perhaps 'feral' is another word describe my demeanor. But my 'mask' of propriety is the only reason you aren't currently begging me to ruin you," he said with his words laced with promises.

His hand that was still on her upper arm relaxed and then finally dropped. Once Katrina realized, she gathered her skirts and quickly moved around him, heading back to the terrace. Her heart drumming in her ears, scattering her senses.

"Katrina! You can run, but you can't hide," he said gruffly but not too loud to raise suspicions.

The threat made her pick up her pace until the terrace came into view like an island in the ocean to a shipwrecked sailor. The safety of others. He couldn't say those things to her here, in front of the ton.

She put her gloves back on, and scurried in to the ballroom. She rubbed her arm that still burned from his hand like a brand bringing in the thoughts of the encounter.

The duke saw her with those dark eyes. He saw that she didn't want to be discovered when everyone in her life attempted to make her a lighthouse...a beacon to attract the men of the ton. The duke found her without a lighthouse guiding the way. But finding "land" doesn't mean you can't crash into its rocky shore.