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“Do you want me to get it for you?”
“No, thank you,” he said as he swiped a hand through his sandy blond hair. Fitz was excellent at his position, but Alex only ever handled the glass himself. If it broke it would be no one’s fault but his own.
With that in mind, he started back for the carriage house, leaving his footman to finish the assembly.
It took a fair bit of time to pick his way down the path, but he finally made it back to the estate. Coming back through the gardens, the terrace above was lit from all the candles burning in the second-floor ballroom.
A crowd of at least fifty mingled there, the party looking gay indeed.
To one side a pergola covered the terrace, vines growing all around the structure and swaying in the breeze. It gave an almost eerie cast in the pale glow of the candlelight from the windows beyond.
But his gaze narrowed as he continued to stare. One shadow more tugged than swayed, the movement odd. He stepped closer, squinting into the darkness when an alarmingly loud groan sounded through the night and he saw the outline of a figure walking on the top of the pergola.
He blinked in surprise, his mission momentarily forgotten. Who would be atop the structure? It had to be ten feet off the ground. “Hello?”
“Who goes there?” a feminine voice hissed back.
He moved closer, staring into the darkness. Was there any harm in identifying himself? He doubted it. “Baron Greenburg. Who goes…up there?”
“Um,” the woman replied. “I’ll tell you but only if you promise not to laugh.”
His brows shot up as small smile curved one side of his mouth. What an interesting turn of events.
