‘I find that difficult to imagine.’
‘It’s the truth.’ She cleared her throat. ‘This might be a peculiar question, Mr . . . er, Joker . . .’
‘Jest. My name is Jest. My lady?’
‘Ah – I’m Catherine Pinkerton.’
‘It’s been a rightmost pleasure, Lady Pinkerton. What was your question?’
Cath fluffed the voluminous red fabric around her legs to give her fingers something to do while they went on feeling tingly and wanton. ‘Have you and I met before?’
‘Before tonight?’ He cupped his chin in his hand. ‘It seems unlikely.’
‘I thought so as well.’
‘Do I seem familiar?’ His dimples made an appearance again.
‘In a way. Most peculiarly, I do believe I dreamed about you.’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘About me?’
‘It is strange, isn’t it?’
‘Quite.’ The word was subtle, surprised. He looked briefly unnerved, like when he had first spotted her and her red dress amid the sea of black and white. The self-assured visage slipped, just momentarily. ‘Perhaps we know each other in the future and you’re only remembering backwards.’
She pondered this.
‘So?’ he prodded.
She blinked. ‘So what?’
‘Was it a good dream?’
‘Oh.’ Her lips puckered in thought, but then she realized he was teasing her. She scowled. ‘To be frank, I found it rather dull.’
‘Ah, but you can’t be Frank. You’ve already told me that your name is Catherine.’
‘I’ve changed it.’
His laugh was unoffended. ‘At least the memory of this dream has brought some colour back to your cheeks. You were white as a dove when you fainted. I’m sorry if Raven frightened you.’
She remembered the shadow stretching across the castle lawn – the hooded, axe-wielding figure towering over her. She shuddered. ‘No, it wasn’t Raven. It was . . . I thought I saw . . . nothing.’
‘I see nothing all the time.’
‘As I said before, it was very warm inside, that’s all. And I’ve barely eaten all day.’
‘No doubt the corset of tortures didn’t help.’
Her scowl deepened. ‘A lady’s undergarments are not a suitable topic of conversation.’
He raised his hands in surrender. ‘Only a theory, my lady. I’m sure your lack of sustenance is much more the culprit. Here.’ He reached for a pouch at his belt and retrieved a chocolate. ‘I was saving this for later, and so I must have been saving it for you.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t. I’m still a little faint. It will probably make me sick.’
‘Some say it is better to have eaten and lost than never to have eaten at all.’
She furrowed her brows, confused, but his sincerity never faltered.
‘In case you do get sick and the sweet makes its way up again.’
‘That’s horrible.’
‘I know. I should apologize.’ Rather than apologizing, he held the sweet towards her. ‘I must insist that you eat, regardless of the risks. Should you happen to faint again while under my care, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop Raven from using that bucket.’
Catherine shook her head and placed a palm against her abdomen. She could feel the bone stays beneath the bodice.
Although, the corset didn’t seem as confining as it had before. Now that the evening air was reviving her, there was even room to breathe. Not a lot of room, but perhaps enough to fit in one little chocolate . . .
‘Please, take it,’ he pressed.
‘Is it from the feasting table?’ she asked, knowing better than to sample untested foods. Once, when she was a child, she’d sampled some wild berries and spent two whole days the size of a thimble. It was an experience she didn’t care to have again.
‘The King’s own.’
Catherine took it hesitantly, murmuring her thanks, and bit down. The truffle exploded with silky caramel and brittle chocolate on her tongue.
She stifled a pleased moan.
But if one added just a touch of sea salt – oh, euphoria.
She devoured the rest, her tongue searching for any missed chocolate on her teeth.
‘Better?’ Jest asked.
‘Much.’ She tucked a strand of misplaced hair behind her ear. ‘Well enough to stand, I think. Could you help me?’
He was on his feet before she had finished asking, his movements graceful as an antelope. ‘Shall I escort you back into the ball?’ he asked, lifting her to her feet.
‘No, thank you.’ She brushed off her gown. ‘I’m very tired. I think I’ll call for a carriage to take me home.’
‘This way, then.’
He grabbed his hat off the ground and settled it on his head. The hat looked wrong on him now, and she realized it was his fool’s motley that had disguised his handsomeness before. Now that she knew otherwise, it was impossible not to see it.
Turning his head up, Jest whistled into the tree branches. ‘Raven, would you mind . . . ?’
The Raven cocked his head and peered down through the branches, watching them with a single shining black eye. ‘I thought perhaps you had forgotten your companion in the dark, downtrodden.’
Jest squinted up at him. ‘Is that a yes?’
The bird sighed. ‘Fine, I’m going.’ He swooped off his perch and disappeared in the black sky.