Major Dumbarton pulled her tight against his paunch. “There you are, bitch. You broke my toe.”
Charlotte smiled again, this time showing teeth. “Only one? I’m sure I can do better if I only try.”
She lifted her boot, but the night was all wrong or she was simply too angry to be accurate. Instead of crunching down on the major’s foot, she caught her heel in the swishy folds of her own domino. When she stumbled, the major clutched her close and wormed his hand under her jacket, ripping open her waistcoat and fine lawn shirt to grab for her—
Damn it, no!
She bit him hard, and the major yowled and staggered backward, but the damned domino tripped him up, too, and together they crashed to the floor.
I can still sneak away, thought Charlotte rather desperately, and perhaps she could have if the musicians hadn’t heard the ruckus and brought their violins to a screeching halt.
If her black mask hadn’t come off in the fall.
If Marby hadn’t chosen just that minute to roll up and shout, “Dash it, Charlotte, I’ve got you now!”
But unfortunately, her famous luck deserted her, and a ballroom’s worth of revelers turned around to stare.
Whispers ofIs that…? Could that be…?climbed the walls and swirled across the ceiling, rumbles of her name building into a roar. Charlotte’s face flamed and her brain howled as she shoved Major Dumbarton away to reveal her ripped shirt and his hands inside it.
There was only one course of action left.
Charlotte pushed herself to her feet, plastered on her widest smile, and curtsied to the crowd.
CHAPTER 5
Boom, boom, boom.
The bronze door knocker was shaped like an orchid, but it made a sound like thunder.
It was still early morning in Mayfair, the sky the faintest pink, so it was several minutes before the butler, bleary-eyed and still in his nightclothes, pulled the door open. “Yes, yes!” he said testily. “What could anyone want at this hour?”
“Morning, Levy.” Charlotte smiled brightly even as her hands shook and her stomach quaked with a quivery sort of fury. “Good God, is that a nightcap? I wasn’t aware people still wore those.”
Levy blinked awake. “Lady Charlotte? My goodness! You’re meant to be upstairs in bed.” He took in Warrick, standing on her flank like a constable. “Your Grace. Come in at once.”
Charlotte tilted her head. “Do you wear a nightcap, Your Grace? I can picture you in one. Candy stripes, with a little pom-pom at the end?”
Warrick ignored her, as he had ever since he’d wrapped her domino tight around her and bundled her into a hansom cab. She could feel fury sitting heavy on his shoulders, like a mantle of stone.
“Wake the dowager,” Warrick said to Levy.
“I’m afraid—” Levy began.
“Wake her now.”
The butler swallowed. “At once, Your Grace.”
“Donotwake Gran, Levy.” Charlotte shot Warrick a cross look. “The doctor said she needs her sleep, and I refuse to bother her with something that can wait until morning.”
Levy glanced nervously at the duke, but all he said was, “Very good, my lady.”
Warrick stopped her as she turned for the stairs. “Lady Charlotte, a word?”
She paused on the first step and cocked an inquiring eyebrow.
“In the salon, if you please,” he said through gritted teeth.
She didn’t please, but she crossed into the salon anyway. “Yes, my lord duke? I take it you have a lecture to deliver? I can’t promise to stay awake for it, but I shall try.”
