“Now take off your mask and give me your hand,” Sophie demanded.
Knowing it was useless to argue with her stubborn friend, Jennette did as commanded. In seven years of friendship, she had never let Sophie read her tea leaves, her palm, or any other thing the medium might want. But there seemed no dissuading Sophie tonight.
“Oh my,” Sophie said, holding Jennette’s hand with her eyes closed.
“What is it?”
“I sense a deep secret you are keeping from everyone.”
She yanked her hand away only to have Sophie frown and grab it again. Jennette immediately thought of something to block Sophie’s intrusive sensations: dresses. Jennette imagined herself inspecting every dress she owned, anything to keep Sophie from determining her secret. In her mind, she opened her linen-press and pulled out her violet silk gown. The dress needed some trim, perhaps lace.
Was this working?
She needed to think of something else, quickly. Shoes! She had more shoes than dresses.
What was wrong with her? Sophie was her friend. But that did not matter, not even her friends could know her secret. What else could she think of?
“Stop fretting, Jennette. I can’t guess your secret. But I am a little surprised you have told no one. It’s not like you.”
“Do you see anything else?” Jennette asked, attempting to get Sophie on another topic.
“A man,” Sophie whispered. A deep frown marred her exotic beauty. “Perhaps it’s your new painting instructor in Florence.”
Since Jennette was only pretending to have a painting instructor, she highly doubted he was the man Sophie saw in her trance. After all, when she’d devised her plan to move to Florence, she had to create a valid reason for leaving. Enriching her artistic skills seemed the perfect solution.
“What does he look like?”
“I can’t see him like a portrait, Jennette. I only get fleeting images.”
“Images of what?”
“Just bits and pieces of things,” she replied with a delicate shrug of her shoulders.
“But what do you see now?” Jennette’s impatience rose.
“Darkness,” Sophie whispered with her eyes still closed. “I see darkness surrounding this man like a shroud.”
“Anything else?” Who could this man be? Some swarthy Italian who would sweep her off her feet? A man to help her forget her past and forge a brilliant future?
“His eyes are fascinating—light gray that lend a softness to him.” Sophie sighed. “Such sad eyes.”
Gray eyes.
Jennette swallowed. Surely, there were men in Florence who had gray eyes and chestnut hair—she pulled her hand out of Sophie’s grip again and stood. Sophie never said the man had chestnut hair, so certainly she must be thinking of another.
It had to be someone else.
“I must get back to my guests now.”
“Of course,” Sophie replied with a strange little smile. “Just remember, Jennette, I was right about Avis and Banning.”
Jennette walked to the door and paused at the threshold. Her brother and new sister-in-law had been happily married now for two months. And Sophie had helped make that match by scheming to get them together at a party. While Jennette doubted Sophie’s plan had really made a big difference, she had known about them before they even knew themselves.
But Sophie couldn’t be right about this one. Jennette had to believe that because the alternative was unimaginable. He’d promised to leave her alone after that fateful morning.
“What does he want from me, Sophie?” she whispered from the doorway.
“I cannot know for certain. But have a care, Jennette. With all the darkness surrounding him, I don’t think anything he might want could be good.”