Lady certainly did not apply to Miss Elizabeth Wainwright, even if she was the daughter of a squire and had, on her mother’s side, once boasted an earl for a grandfather before the title passed to a distant line.
“Wrong.” She struggled to break away. “This is all wrong.”
His grip only tightened.
“Let me go! Lord Redver, please let me go!”
He released her so quickly that she stumbled into the bedpost.
“What kind of game are you playing?” he demanded, his fingers already working at the knot behind his head.
“No game.” She grabbed “her” hat and coat and fished out the key from her pocket. “Truly, I—I am not here…I’m not here for the reasons you seem to think I am here.”
He frowned.
Taking advantage of his momentary hesitation, she darted toward the door. Behind her, she heard an unknown, pithy, word with sharp consonants. That word, she would remember!
Then came a swish of fabric…probably him removing his blindfold…
She slammed the door behind her, and then hurriedly turned the key in the lock. Tearing down the hallway in the direction she came, she collided with a beautiful, young woman.
“Please,” she gasped. “Take me to Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”
The large man she’d seen outside the club also appeared. His gaze moved between Eliza to the woman in whose arms she was shaking.
“Is something amiss, Hermia?” the man asked.
A hysterical hiccup escaped Eliza’s throat.
Yes, something was amiss.
Everythingwas amiss. The world had turned upside down. Tonight, one arrogant, feckless young peer had ruined her family. She’d fled into the night with twin vows to save her sisters and destroy that man.
Instead, she’d kissed his closest confidant.
Worse still, she wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to hear him groan with need. She wanted the thrill of being in his arms. And the furious part of her wanted to make him beg. In fact, if certain she’d get away with it, she’d ruin herself to see him on his knees.
There were consequences to male arrogance.Realconsequences. And men were rarely the ones to suffer the worst of those consequences.
Redver could, on demand, have his needs met by some blindfolded anonymous woman for whom he chose a ridiculous name. Harbury could shrug and say he required a distraction and merely be sent home. Both, while a single, involuntary dance had caused the ruin of five, now-orphaned young ladies.
She’d felt the power between them and knew, if given the change, she could turn the tables.
