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Gabriel took a quick breath through his nose, berating himself for his lack of control.

But that was exactly what it was. It was a lack of control. When he saw her again, he would try to control himself, but he suspected he would be unable.

For the longest time, he had worried about Fairfax and needed to compete with him, justifying it with the fact that they had always competed, but it wasn’t Fairfax he was competing with. Or, in a way, it was. He was competing for Eleanor’s affections, which meant he was competing against everyone who wanted to be with her, of whom there were many men, including Fairfax.

Gabriel had an incredible urge to claim her for himself, even if that wasn’t the right course of action. He wanted her in his arms, and his arms alone. He wanted only her lips on his, her body against his, his hands on her, and her warmth in his embrace.

He wasn’t a jealous man, but the thought of her with another conjured such a horrid feeling in his heart.

He couldn’t find her. Men and women were at every turn, cloaked in partial anonymity, but none of them was her. And none of them was Sebastian, and if he couldn’t find either of them, then perhaps they were⁠—

Gabriel spotted her.

He made straight for Eleanor, and Eleanor stopped dead when she spotted him.

“Is it you?” he asked.

“It’s me,” the woman whispered seductively. “I knew you would find me again.”

Gabriel recognized the voice: Lady Fresca from breakfast.

Before he could do anything to stop her, she quickly draped herself over him, pushing her body close.

“Get off me,” Gabriel growled.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Lady Fresca said, pressing closer.

“I said, get off me,” Gabriel warned.

That snapped Lady Fresca from her impudence, and she quickly took a step back, her eyes wide in shock, not at what he had said to her, but at her own actions.

“This is why I dislike these masquerades! People believe they can do anything when they hide behind a mask. Perhaps we will become more civilized in the future.”

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Lady Fresca said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“That will not happen again,” Gabriel warned her. “It is not proper.”

“I agree, Your Grace,” Lady Fresca said, looking more and more sheepish. “I only meant to⁠—”

Gabriel didn’t hang around to hear the end of her sentence. He noticed movement at the far end of the hall as a door opened, and he was completely sure this time that he had spotted Eleanor slipping out of the main hall.

To go where?

Gabriel marched after her.

And with whom?

Eyes reached out as he passed, staring into his, an occasional smile to accompany them. No one else accosted him as Lady Fresca had.

He had feared something might happen to Lady Eleanor when he arrived at the ball, and now that she had slipped away, he feared the worst.

Gabriel was careful when he reached the door, so as not to barge through it with too much force. He was going after Eleanor, but he didn’t want to draw any undue attention to himself.

When he exited into the hallway, he didn’t see Eleanor; he didn’t see anyone. Gabriel stopped and listened.

Then he saw it: the dull glow removed.

Someone had entered the room and closed the door.