‘I thought you were Max,’ I said weakly. ‘You tricked me!’
He shook his head. ‘I think not. You knew it was me.’
‘Why on earth would I know it was you? I didn’t even know you were coming! And you’re supposed to be engaged!’ I hissed.
Dorian shrugged. ‘Engaged or not, I saw you in that dress, and I couldn’t help myself. I can never help myself when I’m in the same room as you.’ His dark eyes glowed, and he looked like he had at Hartmoor, terrifyingly handsome and intent on having me.
‘Well, I’m going n-now,’ I said, my voice wobbling. ‘So we won’t be in the same room together. I suggest you p-pay attention to your fiancée and leave me alone.’
But that was easier said than done as Dorian followed me out of the supper room and into the ballroom like an eager puppy.
The dance had finished, and Lucinda was crossing the room towards me, smiling. But then something tugged at my dress, and I looked down impatiently, thinking I had caught it on something. Freddie was standing there.
‘Mama!’ he cried, sounding distressed. My heart leapt into my throat. He’d crawled down the stairs and toddled into the ballroom to find me and had become scared by all the people and noise.
‘What the devil?’ blustered Dorian, dropping to one knee and turning Freddie to face him before I had a chance to whisk him out of the room. I groaned inwardly. There was no mistaking Freddie’s lineage. He was a tiny Dorian lookalike, though dressed in a nightgown embroidered with ducklings!
‘But we never ...’ Dorian muttered, sounding confused. Then he looked up, and his gaze locked on Lucinda standing perfectly still in her wedding dress, her eyes wide with horror.
‘Oh, I see,’ he said after a moment’s pause.
Chapter 17
Dorian’s countenance hardened, and fury flowed off him in waves. He was going to make a scene. I just knew it.
Scooping up a bewildered Freddie, I dashed out of the ballroom.Where should I go?
Following my instincts, I set off at a fast trot towards the kitchen, which was closer than the bedrooms. It was located on the lower floor at the back of the house and contained a lockable pantry.
‘Stop, Felicityyy!’ came Dorian’s voice behind me.
In fright, I increased my pace until I was sprinting down the stairs, breath forced out of my lungs, trying to maintain a grip on Freddie, who was squirming in my arms.
Bursting through the kitchen door, I looked around, wild-eyed, for Maurice. He was at the range, stoking the fire. Two maids were at the table, prepping food for tomorrow, while the rest had retired for the evening.
‘Mo Mo!’ cried Freddie, reaching for him as I rushed past. Maurice gave me a startled look.
‘Dorian!’ I gasped. ‘Behind me—put him off!’
There wasn’t time to say any more. I dashed to the pantry, took the key out, and locked the door from theinside. Freddie, by now, was grizzling and wanting Papa, not his awful Mama, who had taken him to this small ice-cold stone room filled with sacks of flour and shelves of preserves. I cuddled and soothed him as best I could. We only had to wait until Max came and rescued us. But at least Freddie was safe.
A sudden commotion outside the door caused my head to jerk up. ‘Let me pass, damn you!’ I heard Dorian shout. There were various muffled sounds: a chair scraping across flagstones, something wooden being knocked over, a kitchen maid screaming, running footsteps. Then nothing.
Has he gone? Or is he still there? Is Maurice all right?
Freddie whimpered, and I shushed him, straining to hear.
An almighty pounding on the pantry door made me jump out of my skin.
‘Felicity, open the door!’ Dorian roared.
I clutched Freddie to me with trembling hands.
‘No! Go away!’ I yelled.
There was muttering, footsteps and a brief moment of blissful silence.
Then came a loudclang,and the pantry door shuddered under the blow. Then came another and another until my ears were ringing with the noise of it. Freddie started wailing. What the hell was Dorian doing?
