“There is no need, my lord.” Vivian started toward the doors. The warehouse was fully dark now, the only light coming through the windows from the gas lamps on the street.
“Certainly there is,” he said, following her. “As long as you are displeased with me, I have the need to make things right.”
The sound of rats scurrying and scratching in the shadows made Vivian quicken her pace. “I am not displeased, my lord. I am confused.” She tugged on the door. “And angry.”
“You must understand, I did not intend to deceive you,” Lord Benedict said. “I knew you deserved to enter the exhibition, but at the time, I didn’t think you would accept a sponsorship from me.”
“And why is that?” Vivian tugged again with more force.
“I was under the distinct impression that you did not like me,” he said.
“My lord.”
“No, no. I understand. I did you a great wrong when we were children.”
“My lord.”
“Please, let me finish—”
“My lord, you don’t understand.” Panic made Vivian’s voice shake. “The door is locked. We’re trapped in here.”