My drink-addled brain struggled to comprehend the light, fast, furious words. “Wha?—”
“Lord Grayson?” The womanly lump asked. The notes were strangely familiar in the dark, but I could not place them.
“Yes?” I wasn’t certain why it escaped as a question, but her answer—it was a woman, I was certain—was another curse. It was even less ladylike than the last.
The lump rose to standing, twirling around me to the door, scratching at it by the sound of it. A wordless cry of frustration followed her efforts.
“Why did you close the door? I told you not to close the door!”
“I don’ remember that.”
“Oh, good lord! Are you drunk?”
“No’ quite.”
She flopped gracelessly back to the floor with a resigned sigh. This time she collapsed into a patch of moonlight.
Miss Summers.
My stomach turned uneasily at the sight of her. “Wha’ are you doin’ in here?”
“The doorknob ‘s come off.”
“Wha’ ya’ mean?”
“The. Door. Knob. Has. Come. Off. We’re stuck.”
Once again, my stomach gave a jolt. But the fog that had overtaken my mind cleared slightly, comprehension slowly dawning. “We’re stuck?”
“Yes.”
“But… I can’t be stuck in here with you.”
“Tell that to the doorknob.” She raised her hand, passing the aforementioned knob.
“Did you try to put it back on?”
“No,” she bit out while I turned to slot it back into the hole where it belonged. “That never occurred to me. Thank you so much for your wisdom, Lord Grayson.”
My efforts proved fruitless long before her sarcastic tone registered.
“We cannot be trapped here together.”
“Again, I refer your complaints to the doorknob.” She snarked.
The swirl of drink had abandoned me thoroughly. Sobriety rushed forth with a sickening lurch. Surely, she must understand. We cannot be seen together. She would be ruined. I would be—No!
I pressed myself as far back as possible in the small closet, rushing toward the door with all my strength. Slamming into the wood with my entire weight.
Thud.
Nothing more. No splintering or cracking to be heard.
“What on earth are you doing?” She chirped.
I rammed myself against the frame once more. My shoulder screamed in protest. “We cannot be in here together.”
“The servants will find us when they’re cleaning up from the ball.” She was not understanding.
