She didn’t like the feeling of cloth covering her eyes. Unable to see anything, she shivered.
“You know how this is played,” Lady Fenwick said, her voice moving away. “Find each other and shake hands.”
Hating the notion that everyone was staring at her, Purity began walking forward, or assumed she was. Keeping her hands up in front of her, she took small, shuffling steps in her butter-soft, gray kidskin shoes.How hard could it be to walk in a straight path anyway?
“That’s it,” someone said, encouragingly.
“Go left, Foxford,” came Lord Fenwick’s voice.
A few people chuckled, so Purity assumed he shouldn’t do as instructed since the audience was allowed to attempt to misdirect them.
And then, everyone started to clap and some of the gentlemen stomped so she and Lord Foxford couldn’t hear each other approaching. It was most disorienting.
Unseeing, she touched something warm, and she gasped. Belatedly, she realized it was a forehead and hair, both at her waist level.
A gentleman laughed, presumably the one seated whom she’d touched so familiarly. Someone else, hopefully a woman, spun her half a turn. She wished she knew whether she’d been sent the correct way.
And then, before she could acknowledge how unpleasant she found this game, large hands brushed across hers. For an instant, Purity thought she and Lord Foxford had passed by each other. But after flailing slightly, she touched him again. This time he grasped hold of her hands with his, and she was certain it was he by the scent of his cologne.
“A proper handshake,” Lord Fenwick said.
“I know how to greet a lady properly,” Lord Foxford replied.
Purity felt him lift her right hand, and then his warm lips dusted her knuckles.
The guests cheered as Purity experienced her second spine-tingling shiver of the evening. His firm lips reminded her of when he’d kissed her.
For a dreadful second, she imagined he would do it again with everyone watching.
Wrenching her hand free, she stripped off the blindfold and gasped for breath.
In front of her, Lord Foxford removed his. They locked gazes, and he frowned.
“Are you well?”
“Of course,” she said. But her heart was racing for she’d had an uncomfortable sensation of suffocating.
“No forfeit from either of you,” Lady Fenwick said.
Guests moaned, but Purity was relieved to return to her seat and take up a glass of sherry. Unfortunately, most of the charades, riddles, and pantomimes were short. And within the hour, they had to take another turn. However, with fortified wine and much laughter, Purity felt better about the next game.
This time their piece of paper said, “How? When? Where?”
“Out of the room,” Lord Fenwick ordered, “while we choose an object. The first one of you who guesses what it is wins, and the other one pays the forfeit.”
Purity could hardly listen because Lord Foxford, with a grin that spoke of wicked amusement, opened the drawing-room door and ushered her out into the empty hallway.
“Shut the door,” Lord Fenwick ordered from inside. “And no listening at the keyhole.”
“You heard our host,” Lord Foxford said. “Come away from the door.”
With that, Purity allowed him to draw her down the dimly lit passageway.
Matthew couldn’t haveasked for a better game. Surely, protective mothers didn’t know about this. Even better, there was no one to witness and whisper toThe Times, which had been dogging his every step since his return.
Regardless, he wasn’t going to waste a second of the perfect opportunity at an otherwise tepid dinner party for tame single people.
Taking her hand, he pulled her along behind him, down the Fenwicks’ hallway toward the back of the house. In a few steps, he found an empty spot of wall with no painting or candle sconce. With his smoothest maneuver, he waltzed her in a half circle until he could press her back to the wall.
