Page 11 of Intolerable
At the top of the stairs, they arrived at a landing. Another voice sounded from the right, heightening Cassandra’s apprehension.
She couldn’t get caught. Not in her brother’s club. She dashed across the landing to a closed door and slipped inside, holding it open for Fiona.
Only Fiona didn’t follow. Peering out of the large cupboard, Cassandra saw her dart to the left—toward the voice! What on earth was shedoing?
Then there were more voices, and Cassandra hurriedly closed the door with a soft snick. Cloaked in darkness, she pressed back against the shelves, her breath shallow as her pulse raced.
The sounds of people moving in front of the door were unmistakable. Where was Fiona? Had she been caught?
Panic rose in Cassandra’s throat, and she threw herself to the other side of the cupboard, which was perhaps four feet wide. She preferred to be on the backside of the door in case someone opened it. Hopefully, she’d be able to remain hidden.
Worry over Fiona warred with fear of being caught. Then she heard footfalls on the stairs and the voices began to grow quieter. It seemed she was safe…
Exhaling, she let the tension flow out of her and leaned back. Something crashed to the floor, spiking her fear once more. She stepped forward and froze, holding her breath.
While she prayed no one had heard the noise, she swore she heard a step outside the closet. The door creaked inward. She clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping.
“Is there someone in here? Everything all right?”
Oh God, she knew that voice. The silken Irish lilt was absolutely unmistakable.
“I can hear you breathing,” he said.
Cassandra held her breath again, tightening her hand over her mouth. She also closed her eyes, which was ridiculous. How would that keep her from being discovered?
“Why are you here in the dark?” he asked. “Are you hiding? Should I tell someone you’re here?”
Surrendering to the panic, Cassandra reached out and pushed at the door, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. “No!” The word came out as an urgent, plaintive whisper.
The door clicked shut, and she realized he was now inside with her.
“I knew there was someone in here.” He sounded like he was smiling. “Are you all right? I heard a crash.”
“I’m fine. You can go.”Please go.
“Why are you hiding in the dark?”
Cassandra’s mind scrambled. She worked to deepen her voice so that he wouldn’t recognize her as she’d recognized him. “I’m a new maid. I’m, er, taking a moment to rest.” She spoke in a near-whisper.
“Ah, don’t want to get caught slacking off.” He chuckled. “I can understand that. Welcome to the Phoenix Club. I didn’t realize Lucien—Lord Lucien—had hired anyone recently.”
Would Wexford know of such things? Was he a member of the secret membership committee?
“It’s my first day.” As if that explained anything. “I just needed a respite. I should get back to work.”
“I will let you get to it.”
Oh no, he was going to open the door and escort her out, probably. Which meant he’d see her. And recognize her. She couldn’t have that.
“You go first, my lord. I wouldn’t want to be seen leaving this cupboard with you.”
There was a beat of silence, and the air in the small space seemed to shift. “Do you know who I am?” he asked softly. When she didn’t respond, he said, “You sound familiar, and if I’m honest, not at all like a maid.”
Hell.“Please go,” she pleaded. “Before you get me into trouble.”
“I have a feeling you’re already in trouble.” He sounded far too amused. Cassandra wanted to kick him in the shin.
“Are you really a maid?” He’d moved closer. She could feel his proximity even if she couldn’t see him.
