“We see what we want to see. The things that easily make sense appease our need for familiarity. In familiarity, we have safety.”
“Why are you escorting her about?”
He shrugged and folded his arms. “Because I was told to.”
Milly rolled her eyes. “I have to get back.”
“I’ll take her back to her room,” Tristan said.
Milly narrowed her eyes at him before turning away. Tristan shook his head. Why must everyone be so nosy?
The door opened, and Flick slipped out.
“All is well?”
She grimaced. “She burned her ear dreadfully and burned off a length of hair. She’s upset.”
“Understandably so. Let’s go.” He took her elbow.
“My word. It couldn’t be.”
She froze as they faced a man who couldn’t be more than Tristan’s own age, if even that. Pale-red hair, slate-blue eyes, and the kind of smooth face that oozed youth. A stripling, his father would say.
“Excuse us,” Tristan said.
“I know you,” he said, blocking their path. He wasn’t speaking to Tristan. Flick stood beside him, vibrating like a tuning fork.
“I’ve no recollection of you, sir,” she said.
“Miss Brandon, of Winter’s Well. I’ve attended your father’s church when I visit my grandmother. She—” He stopped, his gaze darting around the hall as if he just remembered they stood in a brothel. Even in the sultry pink light of the hall, his face turned red.
“Forgive me. I am mistaken.” He stepped aside, and now it was her leading him down the hall to the rear door and servants’ stair.
Chapter Seven
By the timeFelicity reached her room, she was shaking so hard she couldn’t walk steadily. Tristan put an arm around her and opened her door. He kept saying her name, his concerned gaze glued to her face, but she couldn’t answer. She couldn’t make her lips move or feel her tongue.
He half carried her through, closing the door behind them. He led her to her bed and sat her down before turning away to pour a glass of water from the pitcher.
“Drink this.”
She gripped the glass, but she couldn’t feel it in her hands. When he let go, it slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor.
He cursed and grabbed a cloth to scoop up the glass and water.
“Flick, you’re frightening me,” he said.
A sob tore out of her throat, and Felicity hunched over her middle, a pain so sharp and cold slicing through her belly.
“He saw me,” she cried. “He saw me, and he’ll tell. He’ll know where I am.”
Tristan kneeled before her. He cradled her head. “Who is he? I will find him right now. I’ll make sure he can’t remember his own name bymorning, but I can’t leave you like this.”
“He’s going to find me, Tristan. He’ll find me and take me home!”
“Who?”
“My father. He’ll make me marry him. They’ll punish me for running away!”
