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Beads of perspiration trickled down her back. What was she going to do?
Think. She had to think.
Unsteadily, Nicole made her way to the roadside and drew a deep calming breath—one that was instantly thwarted by the stubborn confines of her corset. Dizziness exploded in her head, and she clutched blindly at a nearby lamppost, determined to steady herself. All around her the sounds of night were unfolding at an alarming rate, a profusion of elegantly dressed people leaving their town houses for gala rounds of merrymaking. Originally, Nicole had counted on this very occurrence when she’d planned her jaunt, knowing that the throng of aristocrats would swallow up her presence as she made her way back to the inn. But her plan would backfire if she chose this moment to swoon, for amid this crowd someone was bound to notice a woman lying prone on the roadside.
The dizziness intensified as her corset stood its ground. In response, the collar of her gown seemed to tighten oppressively about her throat. No, she ordered herself silently, scrutinizing the passing carriages. You will not faint. You can’t risk calling attention to yourself.
With staunch determination, Nicole pivoted, seeking a private spot, her gaze scanning the banks of the Thames. Unthinking, she darted toward the river walk, which stretched between the embankment road and the river itself.
Thankfully, there was a secluded, empty bench behind a marble statue and a row of trees. She dropped onto it, forcing her breathing to become slow and shallow until the dizziness receded. Damn this bloody corset, she fumed. Gown or no gown, I’ll never again don one of these lethal stranglers.
Twenty feet away, couples were milling about, but the lush line of trees acted as a shield between Nicole and the walkway’s patrons. Safe and unseen in her tiny niche, she allowed herself to relax. She needed to plan her strategy, and she would—in a moment. But first her body needed to recoup its strength in order for her mind to function. And, in the absence of food, a brief respite would have to suffice.
Leaning her head back, she stared up at the sky, watching the twinkling of the stars as they appeared, one by one. This onset of night was magic—not just here, but everywhere. Even amid the chaos at the stables, everything seemed to slow at the spellbinding instant that twilight merged with darkness, as if to acknowledge the reverence of the occurrence.
A reminiscent smile played about Nicole’s lips. This was also the hour of night when, as a little girl, her mother would tuck her in and tell her stories—wondrous, fairy-tale stories that
made her heart sing and her imagination soar. She’d hang on to every word, awestruck, somehow believing it could all be. But then, her mother had the power to make one believe, and Nicole knew why. It was because Alicia Aldridge herself believed.
Do you know what stars really are, Nickie? She could almost hear her mother’s voice. They’re bits of light offered to us by the magical sprites of happiness. They’re reserved for special nights and equally special people, because only those who see—truly see them—can reap their magic.
What is their magic, Mama? she’d ask. And am I one of those special people?
Her mother would smile that faraway smile. Indeed you are. As for their magic, it’s an offering. A precious offering to seize and to nurture. So remember, darling, every time you see a star, you’re being offered a miracle. Wish on it—wish very, very hard, and that star, and all its enchantment, will be yours.
Forever, Mama?
Yes, my love, forever.
Two tears slid down Nicole’s cheeks, and she wrapped her arms about herself, capturing the memory as she studied the sky. This was the kind of night her mother had alluded to: clear, warm, and fragrant, alive with the blossoming buds of spring.
And illuminated by a sea of dazzling stars.
Dreamily, Nicole focused on a star that seemed to call out to her. It wasn’t the largest nor even the brightest of the heavens’ offerings. But there was something extraordinary about the way it glowed, as if trying to compensate for its diminutive size, that drew her to it, held her captive.
I’m wishing, Mama, Nicole declared silently, as I did on my locket. Only this time I’m wishing for the magic offered by that tiny star. Because, thanks to you, I still believe.
Her throat constricted, and more tears trickled from the corners of her eyes.
“May I offer my assistance?”
Nicole froze at the sound of the deep masculine voice, dreams reverting abruptly to reality. She’d been discovered. Someone knew she was here. She had to escape.
Inching to the edge of the bench, she mentally gauged her distance to the road, preparing to bolt.
“Don’t run off. And don’t be frightened. I’m not going to hurt you.”
A hard hand closed over hers, and the bench shifted as her unexpected companion sat down beside her.
“I’m not frightened,” she heard herself say, keeping her chin down. “I’m …” She broke off. I’m what? Avoiding detection?
“I saw you clutching that lamppost. When you fled into the trees, you were white as a sheet. I was concerned you might faint.”
“I’m fine.” She stared at the tips of his polished evening shoes, feeling the warmth of his palm over hers. “But I’d best be on my way.”
His grip tightened, and an instant later a handkerchief was pressed into her other hand. “Try this. I’ve been told it works wonders. Guaranteed to dry a lady’s tears.”
Nicole couldn’t help it; she looked up, drawn to the husky teasing in his tone.
