Perhaps she needed to think this through more thoroughly. Leonora knew she was stalling. She simply was not the kind of person to rush headlong into things. She never had been. She could not be such a person. No, she needed to think this through. Still, she was grateful for the perspective her sister provided.
Determined to change the subject, Leonora spotted the package her sister had brought her. “You said this was delivered for me?” She released her sister’s hands and walked over, picking up the package. From the shape and weight of it she suspected it was a book. “Who is it from?” There was no writing upon it and no card attached to it.
“That I cannot say,” Christina replied, moving closer to see. “Harmon said it was delivered by a young boy. He did not know him, and he did not give his name or on whose orders he was to drop off the package.” She looked up into Leonora’s face. “Do you have any idea who it could be from?”
Leonora shook her head no. Then she turned the package over in her hands and began to undo the bindings. The string fell away quickly, and as she began to unfold the wrapping paper, a strange shiver began to snake down her back. The weight of the item in her hand suddenly felt eerily familiar, and the moment the paper fell away, Leonora knew why.
The breath lodged in her throat and her eyes widened in shock as she stared down at her notebook. Not a notebook, but hers. The one she had lost the night of the masquerade.
“Leo?” Concern was etched into Christina’s voice. “Leo? What’s wrong?” Her hand settled upon Leonora’s arm, squeezing it gently. “Leo, look at me. What’s going on? You look pale.”
“This is mine,” Leonora mumbled, a strange lump in her throat that made her voice come out in a way that barely allowed her to recognize it as her own.
“What do you mean yours?” A deep frown came to Christina’s face as she looked back and forth between the notebook in Leonora’s hands and her sister’s face. “That does not make any sense, Leo. How can anyone send you your own notebook?”
Leonora looked up and found her sister’s face slightly blurred as tears began to form in her eyes. “I lost it,” she whispered, afraid of what would happen if she spoke any louder. “That night. I lost it…that night.”
Christina frowned. “That night? What nigh—?” Her voice broke off, and Leonora could see clear as day that her sister understood. Her forehead was still in a frown, but now her jaw was clenched. “How is this possible? Who would—?” She stilled, looked at Leonora for a long moment and then snatched the notebook from her hands. “Let me see this.”
Leonora did not object. She could barely move. She simply stood there, her limbs suddenly feeling ice-cold, as her sister flipped through the pages.
“You didn’t write your name in this,” Christina remarked, occasionally looking up from the pages she perused. “Even if someone found this, how would they know it was yours?” She stopped and looked up at Leonora. “Wait! Are you saying…? Do you think that he sent this back to you?”
Leonora shrugged, though she barely felt her shoulders move.
“But how would he even know it was you?” Christina gritted out, outrage in her voice. She dropped the notebook onto the vanity and then turned to Leonora, her hands balled into fists at her side. “I thought you said it was a masquerade. Did you not also wear a mask? How would he know it was you?”
Leonora closed her eyes as the images of that night resurfaced. “I don’t remember when it happened or how,” she mumbled quietly, “but when I returned home that night, it was no longer on my face. Perhaps it fell off. Perhaps he—” Leonora swallowed. “I don’t remember.”
Christina huffed out a deep breath, then she pulled Leonora into her arms and held her tightly. “Very well, let’s think this through. If he truly is the one who sent this to you, then that means that all this time he knew who you were.” Suddenly, she stood back and stared into Leonora’s eyes. “We must tell Father!”
Panic surged through Leonora, and she immediately shook her head. “We cannot! I cannot! Who knows what he would do? You know he—”
“Then what do you want to do, Leo?” Christina snapped, a whisper of fear mingling with the anger in her eyes. “You cannot truly expect me to keep this to myself. Did you not ask yourself why he would send it to you?” She pointed at the notebook. “This is a message! He had what? A year to send this to you? But he didn’t! Why not? Why now? What changed?” She stared at Leonora. “You have no idea who he could be?”
Leonora wracked her mind as she had done so many times. Many details of that night were burned into her memory, yet others had drifted away like feathers on a strong breeze.
It had been dark and loud, a cacophony of voices echoing around her, mingling with the music played in the ballroom. Leonora remembered shadows, people brushing past her. She remembered the moment hands had seized her. He had been like a phantom stepping out of the shadows, non-corporeal one moment and then solid the next. She remembered his breath upon her skin and his mouth closing over hers, cutting off any sound, any protest she might have been capable of.
Leonora remembered many details. After all, they had been tormenting her this past year. Yet, they were not of the kind that would help her identify her attacker.
“I do not,” she finally told her sister, hanging her head in defeat. “Believe me, I have looked from face to face, always wondering.” She shook her head. “I do not know.”
Christina placed her hands upon her sister’s shoulders. “All the more reason to share this with our parents. They will help you. You know that.”
Leonora pushed her sister’s hands away. “Of course, I know that! Of course, I do! But I cannot help but worry what Father might do if—”
“You truly think he would call him out?” Christina demanded with a scoff. “How could he? You don’t know who he is.” She took a careful step toward Leonora, her hands raised in a placating manner. “You know how Father feels about duels. Do you not remember how he reacts every time the papers report about yet another useless, immature altercation in Hyde Park? He detests people who solve their problems in such a childish way. He would never do that.”
Leonora stared at her sister, wishing she could believe her. “You cannot be certain of that. It is always different to imagine what one would do if one were in that situation. It is quite another matter once one actually finds oneself in that situation. I will not risk any of my family for this. Not Father. Not Troy.”
Christina sighed. “Then what will you do? You cannot simply ignore this. Who knows what he’ll do next!” She looked imploringly into her sister’s eyes. “You cannot handle this on your own.”
Leonora stilled, her gaze no longer seeing her sister. “No, I cannot,” she mumbled absentmindedly, doing her utmost to ignore the sense of panic that began crawling up her spine. “I need…”
Drake.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A Trusted Ally
When Drake heard footsteps echo closer down the hall, his mind immediately went to Leonora. And then he remembered how she had left earlier that day, that thoughtful look in her eyes. What had gone through her head? Had she come to regret their kiss? Did she now?