Because there was a much more important factor to consider. More terrifying than anything she’d seen, and try as she might to banish it, she couldn’t.
What had those men wanted from her and Maia?
And…Oh, God,where was Maia?
That thought had Angelica stumbling from her sanctuary at last, tearing through the vines and bumping into the fountain on her way. She had to find her sister.
Blood was slick on the floor, and she vaguely registered reddish-brown footprints on the scuffed wood.
Someone had moved the bodies, and most of the party attendees had fled the room. Masks, canes, reticules and other accessories were scattered about, testament to the confusion of fear and terror.
Angelica didn’t even know where to look for Maia, but she didn’t get far before a hand reached out from nowhere and clamped on her arm.
She stifled a startled shriek and spun to see Voss. Relief battled with urgency and she tried to pull away. “I have to find Maia,” she said. “I have to?—”
“She’s safe,” he told her. “She’s all right. Corvindale hid her.”
“She’s safe?” Angelica said. “I want to?—”
“She’s safe,” he said again, turning her around firmly. “Come. We have to leave, now, before they come back.”
Angelica didn’t argue. She didn’t have the strength, and aside from that, she wanted nothing more than to leave this horrible place, the scene of a terrifying evening. She wanted to be home, safe, and to see for herself that Maia was safe. And being in Voss’s company on the way there was even better.
“This way,” he said when she would have started toward the main entrance. “The carriage is here.” His arm was strong and solid, sliding around her waist in gentle support as he hurried her from the ballroom and out through the deserted kitchens to a servants’ entrance.
It wasn’t until they were outside and had walked beyond the drive leading to Sterlinghouse that she realized that the carriage to which he’d led her was not the one in which she’d arrived with Maia and the others. Angelica stopped and looked at Voss. “What’s this?”
He nodded at her question, stepping back slightly at the vehicle. “It’s mine. They won’t recognize it and won’t know that you’re inside.” He didn’t need to say who “they” were. She knew.
He stood next to the open door, gesturing for his footman to climb into the driver’s seat. The interior of the carriage was empty.
She hesitated a moment. Did she trust him?
“Miss Woodmore,” he said, urgency in his voice. “Please. The pretense will only be effective if you aren’t seen climbing in. Or standing here with me.”
It was one thing to waltz with the man, and another to speak privately in the dark corner of an occupied room…but this was beyond the pale. Maia would be furious. Angelica could be ruined if anyone found out.
Although, after the terrifying, chaotic events of tonight…would anyone even know or care? Surely more than one young woman had left the party in horror, seeking safety, without a thought to her reputation.
Angelica was too numb to care. Too exhausted, and still fighting back those images of blood and screams and terror.
It could have been me.
They’d wantedher.
Voss had protected her.
He had saved others, too.
Angelica gathered up her skirts and climbed in, her heart pounding and her palms damp, her knees still weak. She settled on the cushioned seat, unsure whether she ought to tuck herself in the corner so as to put as much distance between herself and Voss as possible in case he sat next to her…or to take up a lot of space on the seat so that he would be compelled to sit across the way.
Yet if he sat next to her, he’d be large and warm, solid and comforting. He might even put his arm around her.
Or kiss her again.
Angelica swallowed hard, so confused, so unable to control or even organize the storm of thoughts and memories from tonight. Her teeth threatened to chatter and she couldn’t get warm, despite the fact that it was a mild summer’s eve.
Voss spoke to the driver, then climbed in with the flourish of his cloak and settled on the seat across from her.
