Everyone turned to look at him in surprise. “The grounds are perfect for it.” His mouth curved just slightly at the corner. “There are plenty of places to hide.”
Philippa raised a silver eyebrow at her nephew. “Everyone?”
“Not you, Aunt.” That ghost of a smile deepened as he glanced toward her. “You can sit here and judge who hid the best.”
“How generous of you.” Philippa settled deeper into the bench, her eyes dancing with amusement.
“Martha seeks.” Dominic turned to the seamstress, who was startled at being singled out by the master of the house. “She has sharp eyes. A one hundred count, if you please. The gardens and the maze are fair ground.”
Martha blinked her dark eyes in confusion. “Me, my lord?”
“You will find everyone fastest.” Dominic stepped toward the edge of the lawn, signaling the start of the game.
Lily squealed with excitement, bouncing on her toes while her bouquet of wildflowers was clutched and forgotten in her hand. Oliver tried desperately to look bored, but he failed miserably as a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Martha crossed to the ancient oak tree and pressed her palms over her eyes, her tone carrying clear across the garden. “One… Two… Three...”
Everyone scattered.
The children sprinted toward the rose garden, Lily’s laughter trailing behind her like ribbons in the wind. Daphne ducked behind a nearby hedge, her russet dress disappearing into the greenery. Philippa waved cheerfully from her bench, calling out that she would pretend to be invisible as she settled her skirts.
Dominic vanished. One moment he was standing near the maze entrance, and the next he was simply gone, swallowed by the landscape as if he’d never been there at all.
Nell stood frozen on the lawn, her heart hammering against her ribs. The maze loomed before her. Its entrance was dark and inviting, promising secrets. Before she could think, and before she could talk herself out of it, she was running toward it.
Inside the maze, the hedges swallowed sound.
The walls rose twelve feet above her head, blocking out the sky and turning the world into a tunnel of green shadows and dappled golden light. The air was cooler here, damp with the scent of earth and growing things. Her footsteps on the gravel path seemed to echo strangely, coming back to her from directions that didn’t make sense.
She turned left. Then right. Then left again. Every path looked the same, with green walls pressing close on either side and gravel crunching underfoot. Glimpses of sky were visible only directly overhead. Every turn led to another identical passage, another choice, and another opportunity to lose herself completely. She was lost already, yet she’d known she would be.
“…forty-five… forty-six...” Martha’s voice drifted faintly through the hedges, muffled and directionless.
Nell kept walking, her pulse quick in her throat, as she searched for somewhere to hide. She looked for a corner, a nook, or a hollow in the hedge; and she needed anywhere Martha wouldn’t think to look.
Dead end. She spun on her heel and doubled back, her yellow skirts swishing sharply against the hedge.
Another dead end. A stone bench was tucked into an alcove, but it was too obvious and too easy to find.
“…sixty-two… sixty-three...” She counted under her breath, fingers pressing into the counter.
Martha’s voice was fainter now, the numbers blurring together, and panic began to rise in Nell’s chest. She should have stayed in the garden, but she should have hidden behind a hedge like Daphne. She should never have run toward this green labyrinth that seemed designed to swallow her whole.
Footsteps sounded behind her. They were quick, purposeful, and closing fast—and she spun around, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Thirteen
Dominic rounded the corner, moving through his maze with the easy confidence of a man who knew every inch of it. He knew every turn and every secret passage because this was his. All of it belonged to him.
“You are going the wrong way.” He came to a halt, a glint of amusement dancing in his grey eyes while they gleamed in the dappled light.
Nell pressed a hand to her heaving chest, her lungs working hard to catch her breath. “I am trying to hide,” she whispered, her gaze searching the jagged lines of his face.
“Not there.” He moved past her, close enough that his arm brushed hers and sent heat racing up her spine. She caught the scent of sandalwood and clean male sweat. “Martha will find you in minutes.”
“Then where shall I go?” Nell turned to follow his shadow.
“Come.” He took her hand without asking permission. His fingers wrapped around hers, firm and certain, as he pulled her after him.
