I gotup and wandered over to the door and stooped down to have a look underneath. There was no paper sticking out. Oh well. Thinking I should probably check the time on the grandfather clock on the landing, I grasped the door handle and turned it. However, the door would not open. I pulled harder in case it was stuck, but it would not budge. It took me several tries of uselessly yanking before I had to face facts: Mr Hart had taken the key and locked me in from the other side.
I banged on the door loudly with my fist. ‘Mr Hart!’ I shouted. ‘Are you there? Let me out at once!’
‘It is very rude for guests to leave without saying goodbye,’ a voice drawled from behind the door.
I fell silent, unsure of what to say to that.
‘Especially since I have been an exemplary host, providing accommodation, food and drink, et cetera.’
‘Are ... are you angry?’ I ventured.
‘Fuming,’ came the reply.
‘Ah ... So you will not let me out?’
There was a pause.
‘No, you have vexed me exceedingly. So you can stay in there and think about what you’ve done.’
There was an undertone of amusement in his voice, so I could not tell if he was joking or not.
Panicking, I yanked on the doorknob fruitlessly. ‘Mr Hart, this is not funny!’
‘And I am not laughing, Felicity. I am severely insulted, and I am going to need to think of a suitable punishment for you.’
‘P-punishment?’
‘Yes, I have not decided exactly what yet. But rest assured, whatever it is, you will enjoy it. We will probably be up all night. So if I were you, I would have another nap.’
There was definitely amusement in his tone now. He was enjoying this immensely. I could imagine him grinning away to himself.
‘Meanwhile, I am going for a ride to clear my head. Do not bother trying to escape through the secret passage that leads to the library. I’ve put Smithy on guard. And the ivy outside the window won’t hold your weight, so I would not attempt climbing down that if I were you.’
‘So much for saying you care for me!’ I exclaimed. ‘I knew it was all just hot air. Love is not locking someone in a room!’
‘There are many different forms of love, and I am teaching you mine,’ came the reply. ‘You need to learn that people have feelings. Did you not think I would be hurt when I discovered your ruse for Miss Austen and Miss Fitzroy to leave behind my back?’
‘I ... I am sorry. But it was not personal,’I said, trying to appeal to his common sense, if he had any. ‘Lucy wished to leave forthwith, so Jane had to go with her.’
‘Oh, did she now? Well, no matter. It is actually better this way. We can do what we like now. Smithy doesn’t care, and Father, well ... Even if he finds out, he’ll forget about it. And Maurice is discreet, of course—he has had to be over the years.’ He laughed softly, and the sound chilled my bones. ‘Until later, my love.’ There was the sound of a kiss being blown and then footsteps heading down the hallway.
‘Mr Hart!Dorian!’ I pounded frantically on the door, but there was no reply.
I went back over to the bed and sat down dully. Part of me was in denial that this was happening. The other part was extremely aware that I was in real danger of being compromised. And I did not want to be a ruined woman, let alone the mistress of a castle that was full of secrets and lies!
Yes, my life with Max was a little staid, but his love was steady and true—a love that I could trust to last the distance. I loved him too much to ever want to be without him; and I wanted to go home and resume being his wife, his Fliss, without my reputation being sullied.
Determination rose in me. I was not going to let Mr Hart win—not without putting up a fight at least.
***
It was well into the afternoon before I heard the key turn in the lock and footsteps enter my room. Curled up on my side, facing the wall with my eyes shut tight, I was feigning sleep. But every muscle was poised and ready.
‘Felicity.’ There was a light tap on my shoulder. I did not stir. Then my shoulder was grasped and squeezed.
I faked a yawn and rolled over to find Mr Hart sitting on the side of the bed, cheeks flushed from riding and his dark hair dishevelled. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, and a light sweat bathed his chest. It was the same rugged look I had noted when we stopped on the road to Hartmoor. It was only a few days ago, but it felt like months. Little did I know at the time that our acquaintance would descend into this.
My eyes flicked to his hands. He was holding a tray laden with a plate of cheese sandwiches; a bowl of raspberries; and a small jug of cream.
