The Wrong Girl(21)

Another shrug, but he made no further comment.

"So was it gossip that made you aware of me?"

His gaze shifted away. "August told me about you."

"Your uncle? How did he learn of my existence?"

"I don't know. He wouldn't say."

"I see. When did he tell you?"

A brief smile touched his lips. "The day before I came to Windamere as a new gardener. I couldn't start quickly enough once I heard."

"You were that eager to spy on me?"

"Of course. I thought I was the only one like this. I thought I was alone." He raised his gaze to mine, and heat shimmered down my body all the way to my toes. "Do you know how relieved I was to find out about you? How happy?" He gave me a grim smile. "Yes, I suppose you do."

My breath came in shallow bursts so that my next words came out as a whisper. "But you weren't alone. You had your uncle and Sylvia."

"It's not the same."

"Isn't it?" I was genuinely curious. Is that how Vi felt? All alone despite having me for company? It explained her melancholy and all those forlorn gazes out the window.

"Not nearly the same." His murmur vibrated through me. He spoke as if I were the only person in the entire world who could ever understand him, and that was a heady, thrilling thing. To be cherished by such an enigmatic, handsome man would make any woman giddy.

I could not let it affect me. I was all too aware that I was not the one who understood him. It was Vi. She deserved his attentions, not me. I felt quite terrible that I was responsible for keeping them apart, in a way, yet I felt even more terrible at the jealousy brewing inside me. A very big part of me wanted to keep this man to myself.

"So," I said in an attempt to shatter the thick silence that had enveloped us. "You said your uncle told you about me."

"He did." He shifted in the chair, stretching out his long legs to the side, away from me. The movement did indeed break the last remaining strain of tension, but it was unfortunately replaced with awkwardness.

"It's odd that you and I live in the same county as one another," I said.

"Is it?"

"And that there are none others like us in all of England."

"Isn't there? There may be, but we may not be aware of them yet."

"Surely you would have heard."

"I'd not heard of you two weeks ago."

"Your uncle had."

He lifted one shoulder. "I'd wager there are a great many things in this world that exist, but nobody knows about them."

"Like what?"

"Spirits, for one thing."

"Ghosts?" I scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Ghosts don't exist."

"If you say so." He stood suddenly. "We ought to begin."

"I have more questions."

"I thought you might." He winked. "Try saving them until later when we have more time."

"But I'd like to ask them now."

"Lady Violet, I do believe you're stalling."

I crossed my arms and tried not to let him see that he was right. "Very well. Let's begin. What should I do?"

He put his hands on his hips and studied me. "We begin with you answering some questions. I need to understand your talent better. If there are more differences between us than the trigger then I may need to change my methods. Tell me, where do you feel hottest?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Your fingers, your feet, or inside you?"

"I don't know. I've never really thought about it."

"Think about it now."

I shrugged. "I couldn't really say right now."

"Do you feel it coming on?"

"Coming on?"

"Like a wave, a surge through your body."

"Yes," I lied. I thought it best to agree with his own symptoms since Vi had never confided in me about hers.

"And you can't stop it from bursting out of you?"

"You already know I can't."

"Have you ever tried?"

"Tried?"

"Have you tried to control your fear? For me, it's a matter of dampening my temper, but for you, it'll be overcoming your fear since that's what you think is your trigger. You could try breathing exercises or counting backwards whenever you feel scared."

"I can't say I've ever tried to quell my fears like that."

"Shall we attempt to now?"

"Counting backwards? You're beginning to sound like Miss Levine. Will I receive a rap across the knuckles if I falter?"

"Will that induce enough fear to set off the sparks?"

I gave him a withering glare, and he gave me that now familiar almost-smile.

"You're right," he said. "There's no point in doing breathing exercises if we don't first study how it's triggered."