Love and Other Wicked Games (A Wicked Game Novel) (14 page)

She exhaled slowly, only now realizing that she’d been holding her breath, and relaxed back on her elbows. She knew what he meant. That they were strangers. That this was completely mad. That the timing was not right and neither was this place. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t disappointed. All she wanted was to be back in his arms. Right or wrong. Good or bad.

She didn’t understand any of this and she didn’t want to. Maybe not ever. But certainly not right now. The real world outside these doors could change them in an instant. This might be the only time they felt this connection with each other. This might be the only time they ever felt this way in their entire lives. And maybe this feeling was worth the risk of doing something mad.

She looked up to him. She parted her lips to tell him. But he interrupted her.

“It’s time.”

“What?”

“It’s time for us to go,” he’d said. But it wasn’t Cal’s voice that Ellie heard right now.

It was Mandy’s voice, drawing Ellie out of her thoughts, and she didn’t sound pleased at all.

“It’s time for us to go.
Now
.” Mandy grabbed Ellie’s arm before she could protest.

“What are you doing here?”

“Having a stroll.” She cocked her head sideways. “What do you think? We’re looking for you.”

“We?” Ellie looked over her shoulder and sighed. She hadn’t noticed Amelia at first. So much for hurrying home before anyone noticed her absence. It seemed her mother had sent out a search party after all. Well, that is if two people counted as a party.

“Were you meeting a man?” Amelia ran up alongside Ellie, eyes opened wide with mischievous wonder.

“God, no! Have you lost your mind?” Mandy interjected with a tone so forceful that Amelia bit her lip and look down at the ground. “Ellie’s far too sensible for all of that nonsense.”

Ellie sighed and shrugged as Mandy continued to pull her along. Was this some sort of new game? Drag Ellie around the city at a quick pace? She hadn’t really minded it when Cal had been the one doing the dragging. Who was she kidding? She’d enjoyed it immensely with him. Now though, she was growing rather tired of Mandy’s participation in this unusual sport.

“Maybe I’m tired of being sensible and ordinary.”

Mandy looked at Ellie with the same reprimanding glance she had just given Amelia. “Nothing wrong with being sensible and ordinary.”

“There is when you’re sensible and ordinary.”

“So, you were meeting a man, then? I mean that has to be it, right?” Amelia asked once more, hopefully.

“Ach! Enough with this nonsense, Amelia. I’ve already said—”

“Am I really that predictable and boring?” Ellie jerked her arm away from Mandy and stopped dead in her tracks before smoothing her skirt and plaiting her fingers.

Mandy turned to look at her and sighed, brushing the back of her hand over her damp brow. “I’m not trying to insult you, dear. I’m only trying to say that you have far too good a sense of—”

“Well, maybe I’m tired of being good too.” Ellie crossed her arms and tilted her chin upwards.

Amelia’s lip twitched into a small smile. “Is he handsome? I bet he’s handsome—”

“Amelia!”

“Well, as a matter of fact—”

“Ellie!”

“Ooooo! Oooo!” Amelia clapped her hands and jumped up and down in place. “I knew it.
I knew it!
Is he your secret lover?”

Mandy’s eyes were the size of saucers. She looked back and forth between Ellie and Amelia as if she couldn’t decide which one to scold first. Eventually she threw her hands in the air and shook her head.

“Heavens me… I don’t know why I even try.” Mandy braced her left hand against her side and motioned her right hand in Ellie’s direction. “We might as well have it then.”

“Have what?”

“The answer to Amelia’s question.”

“Oh.” Ellie’s lips twitched and she looked down at her hands, which she was now wringing together until her knuckles turned white.

“Well?” Amelia prodded. “I mean he must be handsome, right? Or else you wouldn’t have been meeting him.”

Mandy scoffed. “There are other more important things about a man besides looks that can make him desirable. I hope to God that Ellie has at least that much sense left in her head.”

Amelia winced and tilted her head. “More than looks? I don’t know about that. But maybe you’re right. I mean she was keeping him secret. Maybe he’s hideous.” Her eyes widened again as she turned back to Ellie. “Is that it? He’s hideous. He’s hideous isn’t, he? Maybe he has a huge scar across his face. Or worse: maybe he’s bald!”

“He doesn’t have a scar and he’s not bald! He has a full head of hair… And he’s not hideous either!” Ellie finally said causing her cheeks to burn.

“Oh, I knew it.
I told you!
” Amelia pointed her finger at Mandy and then put her hands up to her cheeks as she looked back to Ellie. “Oh, my. You’re making me blush too.”

Mandy shook her head disapprovingly.

“So?” Amelia asked, slightly composing herself. “What’s he like? Tall? Strong? Thick hair? What color is it?”

Ellie felt the edges of her lips curl up into a smile as she recalled the features she’d noticed earlier. She soon realized how difficult it was to concentrate only on his looks, because she knew more about him than what he looked like; she also knew what he felt like. And it was becoming near impossible to separate those feelings from the facts.

She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to pull out the details, but to no success. All she could think about was how everything felt: the thickness and silkiness of his raven hair as it ran between her fingers, the softness of his lips against hers with the tickling hairs just above his mouth, and the heat of his skin touching hers and how it burned straight through her.

She cleared her throat and motioned her hand above her head. “Well—he has sort of—its kind of the color of—”

But Amelia, who seemed to be living vicariously through Ellie, interrupted her once more. “Is he your lover? Is that why you didn’t say anything? I mean it made sense if he was hideous but now you’ve said he’s not and—”

“No,” Ellie interrupted her with a small laugh. “He’s not my lover. I’ve only just met him. Today was only the second time we’ve even spoken.”

“But you’ve kissed him, right? Tell me you’ve at least kissed him!” Amelia threw her hands against her side and stomped her foot on the ground. Ellie smiled wondering what Cal would have to say about that.

“Well,” Ellie gulped as she tapped her fingers together in front of her. “That’s kind of a long stor—”

“Please just tell me that you at least know his name.” This time it was Mandy who interrupted.

“Oh. Of course. Yes. Of course.” Ellie bit her lip. “I know his name.”

“And?”

“And what?” Ellie raised her brow as if feigning ignorance would somehow turn back the clock where she could force Cal to tell her his full name.

“What’s his name?”

“Cal,” she answered curtly. “It’s Cal.”

“Cal?”

“Yes?”

“Oh, that’s all now, is it? Just the one name?”

“Yes.” Ellie tried to make her voice even as if to say that she didn’t find anything odd about this at all. It didn’t work. She bit her lip again.

“What sort of man doesn’t tell you his whole name?”

“Maybe he’s a criminal on the run… or a spy… or a prince in disguise!” Amelia fanned herself. “Oh my. This is all so mysterious and romantic.”

“And ridiculous,” Mandy added turning to Amelia and giving her another disapproving glance. “This isn’t some story in a book.”

“And who said it was? This is all possible!”

Mandy put both of her hands on her hips. “When have you ever in your life heard of a real event in which a woman meets a mysterious man—a man who won’t tell her his full name—and he turns out to be anything other than a lunatic or a rake? Which, mind you, may actually be one and the same…”

“Well, it could happen. Maybe it’s happened to Ellie. You never know.”

“Amelia, Mandy’s right. I highly doubt he’s a prince.” Ellie laughed and then crossed her arms, remembering the money and his story. “Although…”

“Although, what?” Amelia ran up to Ellie and clasped her arms with both hands. “What is it?”

“Well, he does come from money…”

“Money! See?” Amelia shot a look behind her at Mandy and then back to Ellie, now completely absorbed in the story she was imagining. “Maybe he
is
a prince. He could be!”

Now Mandy had really had it. “Seriously? Handsome, mysterious, secretive. And he comes from money, too… Who told you that part? Him?”

“Well, not exactly…”

“Don’t tell me. He was also being followed. And he just so happened to need your help in escaping and he whisked you away…” Mandy trailed off, laughing, the moment she saw the look on Ellie’s face. “Oh my dear. It sounds as if your mystery man has been reading more books than Amelia.”

“Trust me. I know how it sounds,” Ellie conceded. “And I thought the same thing at first but it’s not like that…”

“That’s what they all say…”

“But it’s not. Really it’s no—”

Mandy rolled her eyes. “Alright then. That’s enough of this. We need to pick up that parcel since I see you still haven’t managed to do that, and then head back to the shop before your mother begins to wonder what’s happened to all of her seamstresses.”

“Oh. So, you haven’t told her?” Ellie hadn’t expected this. “About today or—or yesterday?”

“
Yesterday?
” Mandy and Amelia questioned at once.

Oh, drat. There she went again. Rambling on all nervous and flustered, except this time Cal was not here to enjoy it.

“What happened yesterday?” Amelia asked, eyes sparkling again.

“I thought you said, you were held up by a protest and had to take another path.”

“Nothing. Nothing happened,” Ellie said quickly looking to Amelia. And then to Mandy, “And—and I was held up by a protest. That’s how—you see that’s how I ended up meeting—”

Mandy sighed. “No. I didn’t tell your mother about today—”

“What about…” Ellie began.

“Nor will I tell her about yesterday… Now, I’m not saying I approve of whatever it is you have going on. Not at all.” Mandy added with the wag of her finger. “And I still think you’ve lost your bloody mind—but you’re smart. And you’ve got a knack for understanding people, you always have, so I guess I have to trust that you understand him.” She waved her hand in front of her. “And you’re a grown woman, for heaven’s sake, whether you want to believe it or not. Your mother doesn’t need to know everything.”

Ellie smiled. Mandy was right about that. All of it. Ellie sometimes had a difficult time letting herself feel like a woman and not a girl. These past few days were reminding her that there was nothing wrong at all with being just who she was, in every sense. Cal was bringing out that feeling in her. His was bringing it out without even trying.

“Besides there was nothing to tell her anyway except that you were late coming back from your errand. And you were. Nothing special about that these days with all the protests. So, I saw no sense in worrying her without cause.” Mandy paused a moment in thought. “And I… Ach…” She waved her hand again and Ellie saw her lips jerk into a small smile which she immediately hid. “Let’s get going.”

“And… what?” Amelia pried, ever the one ready to make other people’s business her own.

“And nothing.” Mandy ran her hands over her eyes and then her cheeks, rubbing at her skin for a moment. When she put her hands back down to her side Ellie could see what she had been doing.

“Are you blushing?” Ellie asked, mouth gaped. “
Mandy!
Well, you have to tell us now.”

“I absolutely have to do nothing of the sort!”

“Oh, well you brought it up.” Amelia shook her head and giggled. “And if you don’t say then I suppose I’ll just have to guess at what it is. And ask you a bunch of questions. Is that what you want?” She paused. “Are you—”

“Alright. Fine.
Fine
.” Mandy cleared her throat. “I was your age once, Ellie. So, I know what it’s like…”

Amelia gasped. “
Mandy!
Did you have a lo—”

“That’s all I’m ever going to say about that.” Mandy held up her hand to silence Amelia’s protests. Then she turned her back and picked up her pace, motioning for Amelia and Ellie to follow her. “Come along, girls. We’re going to have to walk fast to get back before dark.”

Amelia and Ellie looked at each other, smiling girlishly. They ran to catch up with Mandy, putting their arms around her back from either side, and the three of them laughed like school girls all the way back to the shop.

Ellie woke with a start, drenched in sweat. She sat bolt upright in the dark, her breath heavy and uneven. Her hands searched around in wide motions until at last she found something familiar. The soft linen of her bed sheets, the firm edges of her nightstand, and then the small tin matchbox, from which she took one match in trembling fingers. She struck it and the head of the match sizzled and ignited. The edges of the flame cut through the thick blackness and revealed what Ellie had already figured out: she was in her room and she was safe.

She pressed her palm to her chest and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. Then she wiped her damp brow with the back of that same hand as the hand that held the match made a shaky attempt to light her oil lamp. The wick began to burn and she shook out the match, placing it on top of the small metal match box.

Yes, she told herself once more: she was here in her room, her parents, Mandy, and Amelia were in their rooms just down the hall, she was above the dress shop surrounded by the people she loved and who loved her. And she was safe.

But a moment ago she had not been safe at all.

She had dreamed she was walking through those desperate streets yet again. Vulnerable and all alone. She was back to the morning of the protest that had sidetracked her on the day she met Cal. She was back on the main thoroughfare that cut through the city, and she was being forced to take it to the place where it crossed the worker’s neighborhoods in the ring around the central commercial district.