In My Wildest Dreams by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online Page B

Ellery would be masterful from now on.
    Gathering her skirts, she spun in a circle, letting happiness wash over her.
    Yes, Ellery was a wizard at escaping the many snares set for him; she had seen him do it. Tonight he would escape into her arms, and nothing could destroy the happiness of being young, in love, and home after four long years in exile.
    Finding herself standing in one of the long trails of moonlight, she glanced toward the doors. Ellery had yet to arrive, so she gave into the memories. Backing away, she took a running start and skated along the floor, her leather-soled slippers allowing a smooth glide all theway to the window. Laughing, she flung herself around and went back, running and sliding with hoydenish pleasure.
    After all, if Ellery did happen to see her, she knew well how she looked. Youthful, carefree, charming. What crime to be caught enjoying a romp? The scent of beeswax rose from the floor and the sweet scent of night-blooming nicotiana rose from the garden outside and filled the room with its fragrance.
    But when a large figure appeared in the doorway, blocking the corridor’s faint candlelight, she stopped in mid-glide. A glance showed him to be man-shaped, attired in a gentleman’s austere suit, and of approximately Ellery’s size and shape. She had imagined Ellery arriving with a laugh and a kiss. When the fellow cleared his throat, she knew it wasn’t Ellery. Ellery would never clear his throat at her in that tone.
    Facing the door, she peered through the darkness.
    Mr. Throckmorton stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight, holding two glasses of champagne and wearing a quizzical smile. “I used to skate along these floors just like that,” he said. “Although I haven’t thought about it for years.”
    Her sentiments warred between incredulity that Ellery had failed to appear and skepticism that Mr. Throckmorton had ever, in his whole somber life, ever slid along a beam of moonlight.
    He strolled toward her and stopped at arm’s length.
    She stood, chin up, spine rigid with disbelief. “Where’s Ellery?”
    â€œEllery sent me in his place.” Mr. Throckmorton extended the glass. “He’s battling a bit of a rash.”
    Uncertainly, Celeste took the champagne. “A rash?”
    â€œApparently he ate something that didn’t agree with him.”
    â€œSomething he ate?” Suspicion bloomed in her mind, and her eyes narrowed as she contemplated Mr. Throckmorton. “Ellery ate a strawberry?”
    â€œUsually he’s more careful. But tonight he seemed to be in a hurry.”
    In a hurry. Of course. To see her. “Was it in that—” Abruptly she remembered she shouldn’t know about Frau Wieland’s silly dessert, and changed the subject. “Poor Ellery! Is he going to be all right?”
    â€œYes.” Mr. Throckmorton smiled into his glass. “Yes, I think he really is.”
    She took a step toward the door. “Does he need—”
    Mr. Throckmorton blocked her path. “No. He doesn’t need anything. Right now, he is well tended and unwilling to have anyone see him in this condition.”
    She wavered. She didn’t know how to get around Mr. Throckmorton, and she suspected he told the truth about Ellery’s reluctance to have her view him covered with unsightly blotches. And yet . . . and yet she didn’t wish to be trapped in the middle of her long-cherished fantasy . . . with the wrong man.
    â€œEllery did tell me to dance with you in the moonlight to the distant strains of music.” Taking a sip of his champagne, Mr. Throckmorton watched her closely. “Did I get that right?”
    â€œYes,” she said, numb with frustration. “You got it right.” Mr. Throckmorton had quoted her exact words back to her. Only Ellery could have told him, so Ellery had truly sent his brother in his place. She glanced around the glimmering