“Pardon me,” the man said, pushing himself off the door and taking a step toward her. His voice was deep and memorable. It sent a pleasurable tremor down her spine. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.”
“I’m not supposed to be here,” she admitted, mostly because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
She couldn’t help but look at him. A brace of candles sat atop the mantel close to where Maddie stood. They illuminated the room enough to allow her to slowly size him up. He had to be a guest. He was dressed in formal evening attire, mostly black, with a white waistcoat, shirtfront, and cravat. Well-cut and made with the finest of fabrics. As a lady’s maid, she had an eye for such things. His clothes were no doubt more expensive than the entirety of Maddie’s worldly possessions. He was tall and ridiculously fit, with dark-brown hair and obsidian eyes that were returning her gaze with interest. A sigh escaped her lips. He was the exact sort of handsome gentleman she’d imagined dancing with.
“Why aren’t you supposed to be here?” he asked, a dark brow arching over one eye. “Are you hiding from the party too?”
No. The exact opposite, actually. She longed to be out at the party. But she was having second thoughts. What if one of the servants recognized her in the ballroom? Anna knew her secret, but no one else did. Maddie had counted on the others being too busy to look at her, just another party guest, but it would only take one servant recognizing her to ruin her plan. “I am hiding,” she admitted, because at least that much was true, and she sensed the handsome gentleman was waiting for a reply.
“Why?” he asked, taking another step toward her, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Why are you hiding in here?” she asked instead of answering him. She was truly curious to know the answer. A man this good-looking would be popular at an affair such as this. He must have a good reason for sneaking off.
“Because I detest these sorts of things,” he replied. The hint of a smile quirked up his lips, and she loved that she’d been the one to put it there.
“You don’t like to dance?” It ought to be against the law for a man that handsome to refuse to take to the dance floor.
“Dancing is for married men, lovesick fools, and fops,” he replied, slowly shaking his head.
“I see,” she replied, before asking him another question that was sure to elicit another negative response. For some reason, she was enjoying prodding him. “You do not like to mingle?” She’d so longed to be a carefree party guest, but she supposed not everyone felt the same.
“Not at all.” He chuckled this time.
“How do you feel about eating hors d'oeuvres?” she ventured, suppressing her smile.
He shrugged. “Mostly indifferent, I’m afraid.”
“So, you don’t care for fun then?” She nearly laughed but stopped herself.
“Not the sort of fun found at an event such as this,” he drawled.
“But if you don’t like to dance, mingle, or consume hors d'oeuvres, then why are you here?” Oh, dear. Maddie frowned as an unwelcome thought occurred to her. Perhaps he was a rake…perhaps he had arranged an amorous liaison…and perhaps she walked right into the middle of it. Her voice had gone a little breathless at the end there, but the thought of him meeting another woman was oddly provoking.
A smile spread across his face, making him even more handsome, if that was possible. He moved even closer to her. He was standing only two paces away. He was quite tall and the scent of his obviously expensive, yet sparingly applied cologne made her knees wobble.
She was in over her head. She needed to leave. Soon.
“I am doing a favor…for a friend,” he told her.
Now that was interesting. Perhaps he wasn’t a rake after all. He certainly looked like one, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved. “What sort of favor?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “Are you close with Lord Hazelton?” Because if he was, she needed to leave immediately. She should not be consorting with anyone who might mention their encounter to her employer.
The handsome gentleman smiled again, and she briefly wished he would always smile. “No. I barely know him,” he said.
She allowed her shoulders to relax. “Thank goodness,” she said before she had a chance to think better of it.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “May I ask your name?”
Oh, no. She needed to get out of here. Perhaps he wasn’t a rake, but he was disordering her thoughts, and she needed to keep her wits about her if she was going to pull off this mad plan. At some point during this remarkable conversation with this outrageously handsome man, she’d found the courage she’d needed and now she was anxious to get on with it.
“You may ask, but I cannot share it. In fact, I must go.” She hurried past him to the door and cracked it open, peeking out, trying to ignore the alluring scent of sandalwood that met her nostrils as she passed him.
“You are in a hurry?” His voice came from behind her this time.
“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t have much time to accomplish my goal.” Thank goodness. The way was clear. She would make her way down the corridor and blend into the sizable crowd. Surely, no one would notice one more lady in the crush. She opened the door wider. “Good night, Mr.…”
“Mr.?” he said as if it were a question.
Oh, no. Was he not a mister? Was he a lord? Good heavens. She truly must leave immediately. She had no business messing about with lords. Though no doubt the ballroom was lousy with them. “My apologies, I thought—”
