Falling Stars by Loretta Chase Read Free Book Online Page B

yours.”
    Christina, mounting the stairs beside him, looked up sharply. “Oh, they’ve been telling secrets, have they?”
    “Just one,” he said. “But my lips are sealed.”
    “Very well,” she said. “We shall simply have to pry one of your own out of you, to make it even.”
    The twins looked at Marcus, then at each other, and giggled.
    “I see,” said their mama. “He’s already told you one, has he? Then I shall have to extract a secret all by myself. A deep, dark one,” she added in the same hollow tones she’d used when she read Frankenstein.
    Marcus knew the ominous voice was for the twins’ benefit. His flesh prickled all the same. The girls loved it, of course and, snuggling closer, expressed their hopes that his secret would be quite ghastly and horrible.
    He tried to convince himself he had no dark secrets to be extracted, thus no reason to feel anxious. His life, as Christina had remarked the night before, was open to public view, mistresses and commercial endeavors alike.
    Until the last two days, the outward life comfortably represented the inner man. Now there was friction. He felt it when the twins talked to him or pulled at his coat sleeves or merely looked at him. He felt an inward tug of affection—natural enough, for they were darlings. He didn’t mind that at all. What he minded were the other feelings. Old dreams and hopes rose like sad ghosts: the girl he’d wanted to marry ten years ago, the children he’d imagined, the family of his own to care for, and for whom he’d wanted to conquer the world... until he’d come to his senses and realized that empire building left no room for domesticity. Until now, he’d experienced no regrets. Now, he held another man’s children and ached with a sense of loss.
    They might have been yours, the ghosts mourned.
    And that, Marcus supposed, was one horrible secret.
     
    ***
     
    Christina frowned at her reflection in the mirror. “I must have ordered this gown with Paris in mind,” she told Penny. “It doesn’t seem altogether suitable for a country house fete.”
    “It’s perfectly suitable,” said Penny. “Your figure is excellent. I can’t think of any reason to hide it.”
    “I can. I don’t wish to be viewed as a dashing young widow. People are too quick to believe that when we put aside our mourning, we leave our morals behind as well.”
    Provocative, Marcus had said last night. The remark still stung, though Christina knew it was unjust and had argued accordingly. She tugged at the low-cut bodice.
    “Do leave it be,” her friend said. “If I believed it immodest, I’d say so. It’s no more revealing than what you wore last night, and even Julius—who can be a trifle pompous at times—approved. He said it was about time you stopped dressing like a vicar’s wife.” Penny studied the open jewelry box. “You must wear diamonds, of course. That simple pendant you wore last night was—”
    “Objected to,” Christina said.
    Penny looked up, her eyebrows raised. “Was it, indeed? I can only conclude it was Marcus who raised the objection. On what grounds, I wonder?”
    “He said it was... distracting. And my gown was provocative,” Christina answered crossly.
    Penny laughed. “Marcus does have a disconcerting habit of saying whatever is on his mind.”
    “I shouldn’t have told you.” Christina moved away from the mirror. “But the matter has been plaguing me. Which is ridiculous. He was only goading me, picking a quarrel, which you say he always does, with everybody. But he never used to—”
    She turned her attention to selecting earrings. “It was a sore spot, that’s all. Arthur’s sisters didn’t approve of the wardrobe I selected after I left off my mourning clothes. They tried to make me feel like a tart.”
    “Don’t tell me about the aunts, Christina. I know all about the tiresome creatures.” Penny stepped closer. “I’d much rather hear what else you and Marcus quarreled about... as you