“Rosalind, where is your mask?” Liza furrowed her brow.
Drat. I’d completely forgotten. “Liza, I must speak with you.”
“There you are,” Charlie said from behind me, though I could not know if he spoke to me or Liza.
“Pardon me,” Mr. Cox said, rising tall. “I must attend to a friend.” Then he left before any of us could be introduced.
“The earl?” Liza called after him. But he’d already disappeared within the crush.
“Who was that?” Charlie asked Liza. “He seemed a bit ... skittish.”
“The two of you fell upon us like the plague,” she chided. “Good heavens, put your masks on. People are starting to stare.” Liza stood and straightened her dress. Then she took my mask from Charlie and secured it over my face. Charlie did the same with his own.
Liza took her place between us, and I was grateful. I could not face him. I would’ve rather faced a hundred cliffs alone than look at Charlie after I’d dashed off like a thief. I’d practically begged him to kiss me, but true to form, he’d been an honorable companion yet again.
But the way he’d held me, the way his hands had traced my sides and cupped my face, how he’d brushed his fingers along my neck ... How could he do all those things if he did not feel as I did?
And Ididfeel them. With Charlie, I was exactly myself and completely undone all at the same time. This unexpected feeling that had been growing since we’d met now demanded recognition. It demanded a name.
Affection. Care. Devotion.
Love.
I loved Charlie Winston.
Did he feel it too? Did it matter if he did? I was engaged, and I’d be married in six days to a man I barely knew.
“I think I am ready to retire,” I told Liza.
“Now? The night is young, Ros. Let’s have a few more sets, shall we?”
“I am quite tired myself,” Charlie said, and I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face.
“Honestly? Both of you? The two people in the world who enjoy making a mess cannot manage to get through a masquerade?” She huffed a breath. “Fine. We have an early drive in the morning anyway.”
We navigated through the crowd, all the way to the entry.
We were a few paces from the door when an unfamiliar man sharply dressed all in black and holding a long, polished cane rounded the corner and stood tall in front of our exit. His right arm was in a sling. His hair dark as night. Then he took off his mask. A sheen of sweat touched his brow. His hazel eyes were narrowed over a round nose and thin, taut lips.
This was the Earl of Langdon.
He looked down at us. “Mr. Charles Winston.”
“Lord Langdon.” Charlie bowed. I followed his gaze to the man’s arm. “I heard you’d be among the crush. I meant to seek you out to apologize—”
“Let us not trifle with one another. You wronged me, then fled the city, and I have every intention of paying back the favor.”
Liza puffed up her chest and stepped between the men. “Mr. Winston has been visiting family. He most certainly did not flee London. We were just on our way out. If you’ll excuse us, my lord.”
But the man did not budge. His eyes hardened with the fiercest scowl, and I realized that he had not removed his mask for recognition. He wanted Charlie to see his anger, to hear it in his voice as he said, “One day soon, Winston, you will find yourself at your lowest.”
Charlie pulled Liza behind him and stood tall, but silent.
“Remember me then,” Lord Langdon said.
Before Charlie had a chance to speak, he brushed past him and into the ballroom.
“Devilish man,” Liza muttered, lacing her arm through Charlie’s. “Do not fret. His intention is merely to frighten you.”
