A Kiss at Midnight

Chapter Three

Brown boots encased his long legs, the tops of his boots meeting breeches of slate grey. An admiral blue greatcoat clothed his lean but muscular frame, honed from many a fencing lesson. Brown leather gloves on his hands. Strands of honey brown hair fell to the right atop his square face. His strong jawline recently shaved clean. Thick brows framed his turquoise eyes. Ilona couldn't help but smile as he stopped before her. His scent of sandalwood a delight to her senses.

"Henry," she said, the warmth in her voice a caress across his skin. She held out one white kid gloved hand.

"Miss Ilona Bennett," he replied, taking her hand in his. He brought it up to his wide but pleasing mouth, brushing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"I thought you would be at parliament until the beginning of June."

Henry Westmore was the second son of Lord Westmore. Normally, the duties of estate fell to the first son and the second could spend his days as he pleased. Adam, his older brother however was often in poor health so many responsibilities landed on Henry's shoulders too.

Last year while on an errand for his mother, he had bumped into Ilona on Forrest Street. Her soft curves colliding with the solid wall of his chest. She stumbled back, the bouquet of orange roses slipping from her grasp. Henry saw this and lunged forwards, catching her in his arms. The gathering storm clouds in her gaze dissipating as he apologised profusely. His offer to buy new flowers was denied but not his one to escort Ilona to her carriage. Since then, the two had struck up a friendship through letters.

Although the words Henry truly wished to say, could not be written on paper.

"My business in London has concluded since Adam's health has improved of late and it seems I returned just in time." His gaze flickered to an errant raven curl tickling her cheek. "Mother has decided to host a ball tomorrow evening. A rehearsal she calls it for Elizabeth, my sister's introduction to society next year."

At his fleeting touch on her skin as he brushed the stray curl from her cheek, Ilona's breath hitched.

"Would you, Ilona like to attend as my guest?"

"Yes though my mother will have to attend as my chaperone. Society's rules and all that."
Her words causing Henry to smile.

"Naturally and what of your father? Will he be in attendance too?"

Ilona shook her head. "Father is away in Derbyshire."

His smile faltered. "Oh. How strange that where Carys' father is too. What are they doing there?"

"Game hunting," she responded, the lie rolling off her tongue smoothly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carys jog up.

"But to go so far for a rabbit or venison," Henry continued, his brows furrowing.

"Sorry to interrupt," Carys said, clasping a hand to Westmore's arm. "We have to get going, Sarah is joining my mother for a spot of tea at Celeste's Teashop and I am to escort Miss Bennett home before that. Ilona, shall we?"

"Um, yes. I will see you tomorrow then, Henry."

"You shall and I look forwards to our dance together, Ilona," Henry murmured, his lips brushing across her knuckles. His gaze flickered to her bare left hand.

A gravel pathway led up to a manor of rosewood brick. To its left, a stable and beyond its walls was a forest. The soft twittering of birds from their perch on branches of evergreen. Ilona having dismounted and stabled her horse, stood on one of the flint steps leading up to the front door. A bouquet of pink roses clutched to her breast as she climbed the last step to open the door.

Inside, a small hallway painted in pistachio green and door frames trimmed with mahogany. An oil lantern sat on the rich dark wood end table by the door. She placed the key on it.

Annalise Bennett was in the kitchen when Ilona walked in. A large ceramic bowl in front of her at the table. A pinch of the oat coloured mixture in her hand. Her chestnut curls tied back in a long braid. Grey strands would never take root due to her immortal blood. Her eyes, a rich shade of earthy brown. The shade and the soft curvature of her jaw were inherited from her mother, Danika while the slope of her nose and the definition of her cheeks were all Alexander, her father.

She looked up at the sound of Ilona's footsteps.

"You are home. Did you have a nice morning in town?" Anna asked, sprinkling the fine crumbled mixture over a dish of sliced apples.

"I did. We have been invited to a ball tomorrow night by Henry Westmore and Sarah is back which means Carys can stop acting like a sad cloud."

Annalise chuckled. "That tends to happen when you miss the one you..." her voice trailing off as she saw her daughter pick up a piece of apple peel.
Dangling from her fingers, the green curve of fruit formed the letter, "C". Pain slapped Ilona's cheeks, his name dying on her lips.

"Ilona?"

"I-I...sorry. You were asking me about town and I almost forgot, these are from Mina. A gift," her daughter replied, holding out the roses.

Annalise's lips curved into a soft smile. "Oh, they are lovely. I think there is an empty vase in the drawing room if you would like to get it."

Ilona nodded and hurried out of the room. Annalise watched her go, her hands stilling on the bowl.

In the drawing room, sofas of lapis blue sat on a large beige rug. Small mahogany wooden tables next to each end of the sofas. An unlit fireplace was below a mantlepiece full of miniature portraits and above that was a large painting. Delicate brushstrokes lovingly created the russet brown curls of the woman in the painting. She was sitting on a sofa in a gown of indigo, her arms around her two young daughters. Alexander's arms around his wife, his lips pressed to the creamy white column of her neck.

It hurts to have never known Grandma. She was so kind and endured so much.

"I miss you, Grandma." Ilona's voice a soft whisper. "If only I had something of yours to hold since I cannot cling to memories."

She returned to the kitchen in time to see Annalise dab at her eyes with the back of her palm.

"Mother?" Ilona asked, concern seeping into her voice. She rushed to her mother's side, throwing her arms around Anna. Damn it, why am I thinking of him at a time like this when I know Mother finds this part of the year difficult.

"I'm fine, little wolf. Ah, I don't know what come over me there. I was making an apple crumble in memory of my Mama and..." her voice growing faint as she looked down at her hands.

"It was a favourite of hers. I still remember the days when I used to be stand beneath her feet, watching as Father tried to make it for her. We might have been royalty but when it came to her, we would do anything to see her smile. The sight of which always made me feel safe. Loved. I just wish Fate had let them both stay right here so they could celebrate yet another wedding anniversary. Together."