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The end of the ball. The end of the night.

The end for us as well?

I cleared my throat.

‘I…I should go.’

Cast in shadows as it was, the chiselled face of Rikkard Ambrose was even more of a mystery. He didn’t display one single emotion.

‘Yes. Yes, you should.’

Neither of us moved.

‘Like right now. We should leave right now. The servants may see us if we stay here alone. There will be talk. We should leave, Mr Ambrose.’

‘Yes. Yes, we should.’

Still, neither of us moved. Still, we kept staring at each other.

‘Why aren’t you leaving, Mr Ambrose?’ I accused.

‘Why aren’t you, Miss Linton?’

Silence.

A silence full of words that were dying to be spoken. Some had already died and ascended to heaven on beams of moonlight.

‘Miss Linton…I…’

‘Yes?’

Slowly, torturously, he reached up, brushing his hand against my cheek.

‘Lillian…’

My whole body quivered under his gentle touch. Images flashed through my head, silly ideas, crazy ideas, wonderful ideas, all of them completely impossible. I couldn’t! I simply couldn’t! But…

‘Lillian,’ he said again, and once more touched my cheek.

Just a simple little touch.

And I broke.

‘Not here.’ Hidden by the spreading shadows, I swiftly reached up to catch his hand and give it a gentle squeeze that meant so much more than a simple touch. ‘Not here.’

What the heck? What are you talking about, Lilly? You have to move! If his mother sees you…

And then I was moving.

Only…it wasn’t away from him.

Strong, familiar hands took hold of me, and swept me off the dancefloor, straight into a shadowy alcove. Before I could ask him what we were doing there, he had pulled aside a curtain, revealing a small door leading out of the ballroom.

‘How-’

‘The advantages of growing up in a place,’ he cut me off. ‘Come.’

‘Anywhere!’ I heard a breathless whisper. Was that girlish promise in the dark me speaking? No. I could never be so foolish and reckless!

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