Page 89 of Unmasking the Earl

“Cassie!” Ned was following her.

Spying an open door, she charged through it, down some steps, and out onto the broad lawns behind Highmore House, where she paused.

Which direction should she take? Where could she hide?

In a flash of inspiration, the answer came to her.

The maze.

But only if she could evade him long enough to reach it. She spun round to see if she was still being pursued.

Ned had stopped at the top of the terrace steps, his gaze fastened upon her.

The moonlight carved his face into stark highlights and shadows, rendering him as implacable as a granite statue. Then, to her complete astonishment, he very slowly started unbuttoning his waistcoat.

Surely, he wasn’t planning to disrobe in front of everyone? Was he hoping to change her mind by reminding her of his delectable, muscular body and reviving memories of her glorious surrender to him in the field of wheat?

He cantered down the steps then started running swiftly across the grass, directly toward her.

She squeaked in terror, hitched up her skirts, and set off again, around the margin of the lake. Her heart pounded madly. She pushed through a line of laurel bushes, and suddenly her feet were crunching on gravel, and she looked about to see moonlight glinting off the roofs of glasshouses.

The knowledge that she had almost reached her goal spurred her on, despite the crushing pressure of her stays. As soon as the dark mouth of the maze appeared, she shot into it. She carried on running, angling back and forth through all the twists and turns until, finally, with hardly enough breath to remain conscious, she reached the platform in the middle.

Once her breathing had returned to normal, she should be able to listen for Ned, then use the maze’s twists and turns to evade and escape him.

“Cassie.”

Sweet Venus. How had he found her so quickly?

There was nothing she could do. She had exhausted every last ounce of strength. She was now entirely in Ned’s power.

He stood before her for a moment, hands on hips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Then, without a word, he pulled her to him and held her against his body, rocking her back and forth.

She felt like a rag doll in his arms, bereft of strength, bereft of will.

Nuzzling her hair, he said, “Tell me what I’ve done wrong, my love. I never meant to upset you. Did you think I was trying to buy you with a family heirloom? I swear, I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. I love you. On your happiness depends my own.”

She forced back a tear and hung her head, not daring to believe him. The ruby was simply too big a coincidence.

But there were bloodstains on his stockinged feet. Someone who was prepared to risk cutting his feet to ribbons on gravel, might, just possibly, be genuine in his feelings.

Following the direction of her gaze, he said, “I couldn’t run in those damned shoes. I don’t know how you managed in that get-up. I picked up your stomacher, by the way. Did you know it had fallen out?”

She looked down again. Her low-necked chemise was now revealed beneath the loosened lacing of the bronze gown. The stomacher would have to be put on again if she had any hope of returning to the ball without her reputation in tatters.

Of course, it was probably too late for that. Everyone on the terrace had witnessed their moonlit chase.

To give herself thinking time, she asked, “How did you navigate the maze so quickly?”

“Paxton and I have been friends for years, so I’m well acquainted. The labyrinth, however, is far easier to understand than you, my love. You must never doubt the strength of my feelings. I would run across the gravel again if it would prove them to you.”

Her distress slowly started to crumble. “Truly?”

“Tell me,” Ned demanded, holding her head up so she was forced to look at him. “What did I do wrong?”

The feeling of betrayal started ebbing into embarrassment.

“I’m sure you already know.”