Page 83 of Love Abandoned

In a few strides, he was at the carriage. Simon had already climbed back onto the box seat. Richard hailed him before he could pull out from the lineup.

“Simon, have the carriage ready for eleven.”

Simon eyed him suspiciously, and it struck Richard that his driver didn’t know who he was. Richard threw back his hood so Simon could glimpse his hair. He tugged it quickly back on, not wanting to risk being spotted. For this to work, there must be confusion as to which one was Richard and which was Walford. The culprit knew he would be cloaked in a beaked mask. Sophia’s differentiation in color was a stroke of genius. Her men would know who was who. As would Miller’s, he assumed.

“Oh, my lord,” Simon said, his relief clear. “Eleven.”

“Turned and ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Richard walked away. He didn’t know what this night held, but he knew he would not allow Elizabeth to be in the middle of it. He would see her gone well before the designated hour. But first, he must find her.

He pushed his way through the crowd, spotting her at the entrance to the foyer. Squeezing past what must be a Robin Hood, he stepped in beside a monk. “Excuse me,” he said, and walked in front of the man as a ripple of movement occurred to Elizabeth’s left. He leaned in, clasping her arms, preventing her from hitting the floor. Her warm flesh beneath his hands so familiar, he almost groaned in pleasure. She struggled, but he held her firm.

“My lady,” he said. “No need to fear me.” He released a long breath, thankful for the two air holes in his beak, and she tried to turn in his arms. “No.” He wasn’t ready to let her go. “Let me hold you until you are fully recovered.”

He breathed in, wanting to inhale her scent, following a path from her earlobe to her neck. Damn Sophia’s infernal perfume. He could not smell his Elizabeth.HisElizabeth? His stomach tightened, and he loosened his grip.

“Sir!” Elizabeth spun around, her indignation clear even if he could not see her face.

Feathers hiding her hair and a mask covering her features could not disguise her beauty nor the guilelessness in her eyes. He scanned her dress, and his body responded. Her eyes might say innocence, but her body screamed sin. He should be distressed that she would show herself in public like this, but instead he wanted to shout to the world that this was his wife.His?There it was again, and he liked the thought.

“I would be your protector this evening, should you wish it.” He was not going to let her out of his sight until he’d seen her into the carriage. And then what?His.It echoed in his mind and settled in his heart. He was decided. He was going to sort everything out. God only knew how, but Richard knew one thing was for certain—he could not go on with this distance between them. Determined, he repeated his offer.

“I’ve no need of a protector,” she said calmly, looking past him toward the ballroom.

She seemed so composed. Richard wished he could see her face, wished he could get a sense of what was running through that beautiful mind of hers. What did she need from this night? Why had she come to such a gathering? He knew the answers before the questions were fully formed. Guilt and hurt tangled. He had no one to blame but himself. But he could not leave her to her own devices. He would not. Yet he could not reveal himself here.

He tilted his head and considered her. “An escort, then. To see you safely onto the dance floor.”

She paused for a moment, and he thought she was going to decline his offer. “Yes. That is fine. An escort to the ballroom,” she finally said, the tremble in her voice belying the confident thrust of her shoulders.

“As you wish,” he said, bowing, grateful she had acquiesced. He clasped her gloved hand in his. He hesitated, wanting to turn her hand and press a kiss to her pulse. To feel her heart beating. How many nights had he listened for the faint strains of her heart? He passed a faux kiss over her hand.

He lifted his arm, and she placed her hand upon it. She did not speak, so he followed her lead. The silence was not uncomfortable. Sophia was her usual dramatic self. Dressed as a voluptuous man, she’d not be lost easily in a room full of costumes. She looked surprised to see him. Or was it Elizabeth? She’d assured him Elizabeth was not coming to the masquerade, but she had invited her. Richard wondered what had changed Elizabeth’s mind.

“My Lady Virtue.” Sophia showed no sign she recognized Elizabeth, although she must have had a hand in her costume. He could not believe Elizabeth would have designed such a thing herself. “And?” She looked pointedly at Richard.

She was good at this game. Too good.

“Monsieur Réclamation.” He bowed, taking Sophia’s hand and miming a kiss over her glove. The name had popped into his head out of nowhere. No, that was incorrect. It had come from somewhere. From the depths of his desire. From the truth he’d been refusing to acknowledge but would no longer run from.His.He wanted Elizabeth in his life every day. Every night. When this was over, he would go home and reclaim his life. Their lives.

Sophia laughed and arched one eyebrow at him. “My Lady Virtue. Monsieur Réclamation. Please.” Sophia gestured toward the ballroom behind her. “Enjoy the evening.”

She grinned, looking far too smug, and turned her back to them. Had she planned this too? In the middle of trying to take down a criminal? What was she thinking?

Richard placed Elizabeth’s hand on his arm and turned to face the ballroom. A tremor ran through her body, and he patted her hand, hoping to reassure her. He had an hour or two to indulge Elizabeth, to allow her this fantastical experience. He didn’t know for sure what she was seeking, but he knew what he wanted.

After the culprit was nabbed, he would come clean. About tonight. About everything.

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