“All the rooms?” What in the world did he mean?
Then all at once, panic pooled in her belly and she woke from the dream.
“If we’re going to go,” he added, “we should go now. The hall is getting crowded. All the corners have been taken up.”
He stepped away from the wall to collect Clara, as if he fully expected her to follow, as if this little tryst were perfectly normal and acceptable.
Earlier, Clara had sensed that something wasn’t quite right about this ball, but she hadn’t been sure what to do about it. She’d hoped Sophia and James would arrive and make sense of it for her. Now, the need for action was imminent.
“Sir, I believe you must have me confused with someone else. I can’t possibly—”
“Why ever not, love? You’rehere,aren’t you? And we seem to have developed a rather intoxicating rapport.”
She realized that she should have heeded her instincts sooner, for clearly, something was very wrong. “Where ishere,exactly?”
He gazed at her for a moment, then the set of his jaw changed. His expression darkened.
“You don’t know where you are?”
“I’m afraid I do not, and I would be grateful if you would enlighten me.”
All the warmth and seduction from seconds ago vanished like a drop of water on a hot stove. Clara’s stomach lurched.
“This is a private ball, madam. Only those with an invitation are permitted to enter.”
Clara backed away from him and moved out of the shadows and into the open hall. A sick feeling crept into her belly as she watched him follow her.
“I did have an invitation,” she told him.
“Was it yours? How did you get it?”
“It was my sister’s.”
He stopped following and closed his eyes. “Please, tell me that you’re married.”
Clara’s brows flew up under the half mask, which suddenly felt very tight on her face. “Married!” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “No! And if I were, I would certainlynotbe here having this indecent conversation with you!”
He glanced this way and that, as if he weren’t sure what to do with her. After some brief deliberation, he took her by the elbow and began to escort her back to the ballroom. “You need to leave.”
“But what is this place?”
“Not the sort of place you should know anything about.” He quickened his pace, and Clara had to scramble to keep up with him.
“Don’t run,” he said. “You’ll attract attention.”
“How can I help it? You’re practically dragging me on my knees!”
“Don’t speak to anyone else. Get out of here now, and for God’s sake, don’t tell anyone where you were. Do you understand?”
“What I understand is that I should never have danced with you.”
He stopped and looked down at her, his eyes fierce and dark. “I must correct you on that point. You were, in fact,very fortunateto have danced with me. You are a tempting little flower, and another man might not have been so understanding, or so apt to let you go.”
He marched her back to Mrs. Gunther, gave a polite bow, and lingered a moment, staring at Clara as if he weren’t quite ready to leave. Then he directed his gaze toward Mrs. Gunther. “Good evening, madam. It is my understanding that you are in the wrong house this evening. I implore you to take your charge and leave here, immediately. Good night to you.”
With that, he turned and walked off.
With trembling hands and a throbbing pulse, Clara walked into the Witherington Ball only moments after their footman informed them that the Prince of Wales was not at Livingston House. He had arrived not long ago at the house two doors down.
