Capturing Cora Read Online Free Page A

concealed buffet. The cubby-hole contained only a few dusty knickknacks, which were easily pushed into one corner. Having folded her voluminous skirts around her, she climbed inside and inched the door closed behind her.
    There wasn’t much air in the cupboard, and it was fusty and dark. Cora spent the first few minutes pressed to the door frame, sucking in breaths from around the gap in a state of nervous anticipation. When after what felt like five or more minutes had passed, she grew impatient, shuffling her feet, and finally sagged against the rear wall with her eyes closed.
    When Bran had got down before her holding that posy, she’d so desperately, desperately wanted it to be real. A wry smile claimed her lips. The sting of tears in her eyes soon followed. She refused to let them fall. Listening to him say all those things she’d dreamed of hearing him say and knowing he meant not a single word of it, hurt like a tear in her chest. Even now, she could hardly catch her breath at the thought of it. Only for a split second had she contemplated saying yes . Accepting him was what she wanted, but she loved him too much to bind him to match he didn’t genuinely desire. He had to want her every bit as much as she wanted him.
    The sound of movement in the room beyond provoked an irritated snort. “Oh, just find me. Let this be over with, so that I can retire,” she muttered under her breath. She’d plead a headache, and no one would miss her. The racing pulse in her temples certainly resembled a migraine, even if it was her heart that was really afflicted.
    The motion ceased and she supposed maybe it had only been the dogs shuffling about.
    Damn you, Branwell, for not loving me back . Why couldn’t he love her back?
    The buffet door opened, prompting a small gasp to escape her throat. Bran smiled on spying her, but instead of hollering out that she was found, he squeezed into the cupboard beside her.
    Cora pulled herself up straight.
    Little light penetrated the cupboard, but enough to see his ruffled forelock and the red-gold glint of his lopsided queue. “What are you about?” she demanded.
    “Hiding. Weren’t you listening? The seekers are to hide alongside the hiders, until we’re all squashed together and everyone is found.”
    “Oh!” If she’d known, she’d have opted for a curtained window bay likewise little Harriet. “Were there others following you?”
    Bran grin broadened so that she saw the gleam of his teeth. “No. Most of them headed into the other wing.”
    So, they were alone.
    “I needed to talk to you, Cora.” Bran reached out and tugged one of the ringlets that spilled over her shoulder. He let go when she squashed herself against the wall to avoid the contact, and the ringlet sprang free, falling to rest on the swell of her bosom.
    “If you’re referring to your earlier tomfoolery, I’ve already heard enough for one night.” Her words sounded strangled as she forced them out past the toxic lump in her throat. The tears she’d worked so hard to suppress prickled her eyes again. One escaped and rolled down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it away. “You’ve already embarrassed and ridiculed me enough. Can’t you see when to stop? Oh, confound it. Let me out of this cupboard. It’s improper we being together like this, and you know it.”
    She drove into him, leading with her elbow, but Bran didn’t move an inch, other than to groan over the impact.
    “Cora… Sweet pea, I have never ridiculed you. Not ever.”
    “You’re still doing it now, and don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”
    “Do you?” he mused, pressing finger and thumb to his lips. “You wore them in your hair to the Faringdale’s masquerade, do you remember? Who was it you were supposed to be, Mary Mary? You’re certainly being contrary. Cora, I thought we understood one another.”
    “I know you mean well, but…”
    Bran pressed his index finger to her lips. “Stop. Retrospectively, I admit my