Chapter 6 #2
When her mother turned back to her friends, Kate headed toward the corridor.
She wove in and out of the large shifting crowd that made it easy to go unnoticed.
As she approached the doorway, she took one last glance around the room.
While she was certainly not looking for James, she begrudgingly admitted he would be useful to have nearby if something untoward happened.
Once Kate assured herself no one was paying her any attention in the madness of the throng, she slipped out into the deserted corridor. She passed the door to the retiring room and stopped. In all her planning, she had neglected one rather important detail: she had no idea where the library was.
Pockets of candlelight flickered along the narrow corridors that branched off in several directions, casting ominous shapes on the wall but giving her no clue which one she ought to take.
“May I assist you, my lady?” a voice asked politely.
Kate nearly shrieked. She was so lost in thought she had not heard the maid approach. A lady wandering alone required an explanation. Unfortunately, Kate had not prepared one.
“No, thank you,” she murmured. “I was merely . . . enjoying some fresh air.”
The maid blinked in surprise, likely because the balconies were located off the opposite side of the ballroom.
“Very good, my lady.” The maid dropped a curtsy and continued toward the ballroom.
Kate watched her go, wishing she could ask her for directions but knowing enough to keep the question to herself.
Surveying her options, she chose the passageway leading away from the ballroom.
She crept cautiously. Though her light dancing slippers made no noise on the carpeted flooring, she was sure someone would hear the sound of her heart thumping wildly in her chest. No one could know what she was about to do.
Beyond the embarrassment and possible scandal of wandering unaccompanied through someone else’s house, she had no idea what—or whom—she would find in the library.
She tested the first door she came to. Locked. Perhaps Lord Wycliff’s personal study?
She advanced down the dim corridor, her reticule clutched close as she debated which door to attempt next.
A sudden thud broke the stillness. She froze, breath caught in her throat.
She strained her ears but, aside from her heartbeat, heard only the muffled sound of music and voices drifting from the ballroom.
Time stretched. One heartbeat. Two. Then another.
And then a faint creak.
Kate spun toward the sound. A door in the corridor was slowly opening.
Fear spurred her into action. She raced for the nearest door and pushed it open, hurrying inside before carefully closing it behind her.
Releasing a long breath, Kate chided herself for her foolishness.
Perhaps she had read too many Gothic novels, but the thought did not rid her of the awareness prickling her skin.
As she surveyed her new surroundings, she was relieved to discover she had, in fact, found the library.
Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the walls, their spines illuminated by light and shadow as a fire danced low in the hearth.
Plush velvet settees were arranged to invite conversation or quiet study.
The familiar scents of old paper and beeswax filled the room.
But the cozy atmosphere did nothing to dispel the uneasy feeling that she had just stumbled into something dangerous. Despite the warmth emanating from the fire, a chill ran through her.
“If you are having a secret assignation, I do believe it is customary to alert the person you are meeting as to the time and location.” A familiar, deep voice broke the silence. Her heart leapt to her throat.
James.
He was leaning against the large oak desk, half cloaked in shadows. How had she not noticed him there? And why was he here in the first place? Could he be meeting someone? She clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling.
“Perhaps I did,” she countered, her voice unsteady. “You are bold in your assumption that you were the person I intended to meet.”
He stepped out of the dark toward her, his expression tight. “Considering we are practically betrothed, I would not call that so great a leap.”
She lifted her chin, meeting him with a cool smile. “Did I miss our betrothal? I don’t remember saying yes. There was something about five weeks . . .” With luck, her teasing tone would steer the conversation away from other subjects. Like what she was actually doing alone in the library.
James did not, however, take the bait. “Say the word, Kate, and I am yours.” His voice was teasing and light, but the last three words were spoken in a much deeper, huskier tone.
I am yours.
Kate ignored his statement and the heat in her cheeks. She had more pressing matters to worry about. It was almost midnight, and she needed to get rid of James. And quickly.
She cleared her throat and forced a tight smile.
She might as well use the same story she had given the maid.
“The ballroom was rather warm, you see, and I went in search of fresh air. I only need a moment alone to compose myself. If you would be so kind as to return to the ballroom, I promise to join you there shortly.”
Concern flickered across his face as he appraised her as though checking for injury.
“If you think I would leave you when you are feeling ill, your opinion of me is even lower than I feared.” He moved a step closer.
“Allow me to take you back to the ballroom so that we may find you some refreshment, or I can escort you to the terrace for some air.”
She raised her brow. “I require solitude.” He stared at her, apparently unwilling to heed her request. She would have to try another tactic. “If we were caught in here together . . .” She trailed off, letting him supply the rest.
He laughed softly. “What? We would be forced to marry?” His smile turned into a mocking grin. “That is hardly the punishment you think it is, Kate.”
She glared at him, nails digging into her palms. The man was infuriating.
His voice turned urgent. He extended his arm. “Come, please allow me to escort you to your mother. I promise not to tease you anymore.”
“Ever?”
“That is not a promise I can make. But I can promise not to tease you again until we reach the ballroom.”
“You are impossible.”
“I am well aware—” He stopped talking abruptly, and a flicker of apprehension crossed his face.
A faint echo of footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Panic rioted within her. She had become so distracted with James that she had lost track of time.
And now she was either going to be forced to marry James due to a scandal or find herself in the middle of a dangerous encounter. She wasn’t sure which was worse.
James took her hand. “Kate, do you trust me?”
She blinked. Trust him? She barely knew the man. Yet his confidence asked her to set aside her doubts.
“Yes,” she whispered, the word barely a breath.
He exhaled sharply and tightened his grip. Before she could register what he was doing, he pulled her toward the shadowed recess of the back wall and positioned them both behind a long brocade curtain that framed a moonlit window.
A small gasp escaped her as she collided with the solid wall of his chest. His eyes conveyed a silent apology. Before she could ask him if he had lost his mind, someone entered the room and the library door clicked shut. A tense quiet filled the room as Kate waited, though she wasn’t sure what for.
James had not seemed concerned earlier about causing a scandal, so why had he chosen to hide them behind the curtain? Was it possible the note was meant for him? But if so, why hide?
She shifted, trying to find a less impossible position, but the narrow gap between the chilled window and the hangings forced her closer to James until the entire side of her body was pressed up against his.
Every inch of distance she had fought to keep all evening vanished behind the curtain, as did a small piece of her resolve.
A shiver ran through her, though she refused to consider whether it was from nerves, the draft from the window, or the effort it took to restrain herself from leaning into James. He lowered his head, his voice barely audible. “Easy, Kate. I have you.”
Kate was certain James would protect her, yet the flickering shadows at the edge of the curtain warned of a danger that could threaten them both.