He heard something else, and he stilled, listening.
“Miss Mist,” a voice called softly. “Mistress Mist, where are you?”
Poppy. What the hell. Carlos jerked the door open and glared at the figure, no longer in her red gown from dinner, but in a much filmier concoction that he didn’t think was meant for him to see. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t looking.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Poppy jumped in surprise. “Why are you awake?”
“Why are you wandering the halls at two in the morning? You’re going to get into trouble, Poppy.”
“Miss Mist is missing.”
Just then, Miss Mist appeared, meowing loudly at her owner as she sashayed into the hallway.
“She’s a cat,” Carlos pointed out. “Cats are nocturnal. She’s supposed to be out on the prowl. You, however, are not.”
Then there was a creak of floorboards, and fast footsteps. One of the other guests heard the noises and was coming to investigate. Carlos reached out and pulled Poppy inside his room, shutting the door silently. He kept one hand on the door and the other on the wall, with Poppy between them, her back flat to the wall, fury on her face.
“Who’s out there?” a voice called, sounding grumpy and sleepy.
Carlos glared at her, warning her to silence. But Poppy was no fool, and she knew very well what would happen if she were caught in a man’s room in the middle of the night.
“Someone’s out there,” the voice continued. Carlos recognized it now as Ainsworth. “Come out, or I’ll set all the servants on you!”
Poppy’s eyes were wide, the fury replaced with fear.
“Don’t worry,” Carlos breathed. “He won’t dare open any doors.”
“If the house is roused, everyone will know I’m not in my bedroom!” she murmured back.
Damn. That was a good point, he thought.
Ainsworth stepped into the hall with heavy treads. A yowl followed.
“Ugh. That cat! Get away, filthy thing!” Ainsworth must have stepped toward Miss Mist, who let out a hiss and another yowl before dashing away. He grunted, and a moment later the door closed again.
Poppy exhaled. “That was nearly a scandal. I should go.”
“Wait a few minutes. He’s still awake and he might hear you walk by. Let him fall asleep again.”
He drew her away from the door so their voices wouldn’t carry into the hall.
Poppy frowned at him. “I appreciate that you let me hide in here, but don’t think this means anything has changed. I’m still very put out with you for that whole year of silence.”
And here he’d thought he’d made a lot of progress when they were together in town that day. “Do you despise me?”
“Yes! No. A little.”
“Well, we have a few moments. Perhaps you can let me explain.”
“Explain why you vanished for a year?”
“I didn’t vanish, I just had to leave London. Believe me, it wasn’t planned. I really did want to see you again.”
“Would it have killed you to send some message? Dear Poppy, gone to sail the seven seas. Back next year.”
“Dear Poppy would have been much too familiar,” he objected, despite the fact that the woman in question was currently in his own bedroom in her nightclothes.
