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She couldn’t stay away from the man.
But she pushed that aside as she slipped out the door, a pillow tucked under the covers where her body should be.
It was a thin disguise, but hopefully Anna could sell it if one of her brothers did decide to check on them.
Moving down the dark hall, she winced, stopping as a floorboard creaked under her foot. Drawing in another breath to steady her nerves, she started again.
She knew he was just down the hall and she thought he was in room three, but what if she had it wrong and knocked on one of her brothers’ doors? Or worse, Lord Somersworth’s or Lord Upton’s?
Somersworth had not been happy with her today. Unfortunate, since they’d got on so well during croquet, but if she were honest, she had more than enough ill-behaved men in her life. But then she paused.
Unlike her brothers, Somersworth might be able to help her with her debut. She’d have to apologize.
It was most certainly unladylike to threaten to hit a lord with a broom. Which made her lips twitch into a frown. How had Ace pretended to be a lord all these years? It was ridiculously difficult.
Did that mean she was doomed to fail?
She shook her head. Right now she needed to focus on the dilemma just in front of her—how to check on Lord Boxby without getting caught.
Stopping in front of the door she hoped was his, she drew in another gulp of air before she raised her hand and softly knocked.
If it was one of her brothers, she’d just claim to need to speak with them. If it was Upton, she’d say the truth: she’d mistaken the room.
And if it was Somersworth? She wrinkled her nose. She’d likely apologize.
But to her great delight it was Ken who opened the door, a purple slash evident on his face, even in the dim light.
Her hand came up to cover her mouth. “Are you all right?” she cried in a barely contained whisper.
His gaze flitted down the hall. “Fine. Mirabelle, what are you—”
But he stopped as she skated past him and into the room. “Close the door.”
“I don’t think—”
“I’ll only stay a minute.”
Softly, the door clicked closed. “You should go.”
“Is it because my brothers will try and fight you again if we’re found?” She moved closer, wincing to think of their reaction if they caught them.
“They’d do far worse than that,” he answered with his hand still on the knob. “And it simply isn’t proper.”
Ah. That. Right. A lady would not make such a mistake. “My apologies. I was just worried. Gris can be such a beast.”
She saw Ken soften, his shoulders growing less stiff in a way that seemed to bring him closer, and then he lifted a hand, letting his fingertips trail down her cheek. “I’m fine. I can handle Gris.”
She brought her hand up too, touching just under the bruise. “Can I do something?”
He smiled, his muscles under her fingers flexing. “I think you did more than enough to help. That’s not the first fight you broke up with a broom, is it?”
She gave a small laugh as she shook her head, his fingers gliding up her neck to the shell of her ear before they slid around the back of her head to cradle her skull. “No,” she confessed with a shy smile. “I’m afraid not.”
He was moving closer as her fingertips skated over his skin, tracing the purple mark that colored it.
“I could tell. You’re very good at it.”
Blood rushed in her ears as she looked up at him, his warm, dark eyes holding hers with the intensity of their stare. Was it the light playing tricks or had they darkened? “It will make me less fit for your world, though, won’t it?”
