"I can't leave you alone in a place like this," Lina protested.

"Of course you can. No one's going to mistake me for a trollop, and I can promise you, no one would dare accost me."

"No one might dare accost Charlotte Spenser with her glower," Lina said, "but the mystery woman in the deep red domino who danced so happily is a different matter.

"Don't worry—I can still glower with the best of them. Truly, Lina, the sooner I leave here the better, and you can't very well abandon Sir Percy, now, can you?"

"I suppose not. If you wait a moment I could find Marchmont and have him escort you...."

She glanced back at the dancers, but Marchmont was already in another set and she didn't dare hesitate. "I'll be fine. There are going to be any number of times when I won't have a gentleman to escort me places, and I refuse to allow that to keep me a prisoner. I'll see you back at the house," she said firmly.

“At least humor me by heading toward the south entrance. That way if I can find Sir Percy in time we could meet up with you."

One entrance was as good as another. "Of course," she said, having absolutely no intention of doing so. The west entrance was closer, albeit past the maze and a tangle of lovers' walks. Her earlier elation had vanished, and in its place was a desperate need to cry again. Tears were a weakness she despised, but the catch in her throat seemed to have a mind of its own. The least she could do was find the safety of a carriage and give way to tears there.

She started toward the south entrance with her domino pulled tight about her, her long legs eating up the distance. The west entrance was just past a row of private dining rooms, and she knew a moment's nervousness when she veered to the right, into the dimly lit walkways. If worse came to worst, she could run faster than any of these mincing creatures in their jeweled heels. Not that Adrian had been wearing heels—he was tall enough as it was. Not that he'd be chasing after her.

The catch in her throat had now spread to a burning in her eyes. She was too hot in the domino and mask, but she wasn't about to relinquish them until she was away from this suddenly awful place. No one would know, she reminded herself, pulling the cloak more tightly around her.

The intricate paths looked deserted. Most people preferred to do their courting by the canal that ran through the east side of the park, and the rest were either dancing or eating dinner. There would be no one around to bother her. She headed down one dimly lit path, trying to hold in the tears until she could finally find some privacy.

She'd forgotten the entrance to the maze was disguised. It was part of the game—people out for a casual walk would suddenly find themselves lost. Charlotte had heard about it, but she'd seldom ventured into the pleasure gardens, and she had no idea that she had walked where she shouldn't have until suddenly she was at a dead end, the thick branches blocking her.

Simple enough. She turned around and headed back the way she came. She had an excellent memory, and she'd only made a couple of turns. One more, and she'd be back out on the pathway.

One more, and she came to another dead end. She took a deep, steadying breath. She held still, trying to orient herself, when she heard the breathing.

Someone was there. It shouldn't unnerve her— she was in a public place. Of course people would be around. Perhaps whoever it was could help her get out of the maze.

“Hello?" she said in a hopeful voice.

There was no answer. And yet she could still hear the breathing—whoever it was made no attempt at covering it up. There was a faint wheeze to the breathing, as if whoever was there had raced to catch up with her. Someone older, playing a game with her.

"Sir Percy?" she called out, wondering if this was his mistaken notion of flirtation. There was still no answer, and she realized with sudden discomfort that someone was watching her. Presumably the same someone who was breathing so heavily. The interior of the maze was shadowed and dark, with only the light outside on the path to illuminate it. The walls of the maze weren't as thick as boxwood, and someone could doubtless see through them. She tried to peer through them herself, but there were four sides to try to look through, and she could see no one.

She felt the skin prickle at the back of her neck. She had the sudden, eerie feeling that whoever, whatever, was watching her was malevolence personified.

"I'm not in the mood for games," she said bravely. "Either show yourself or go away."

Her watcher did neither. He did something far, far worse. He laughed, a low, rasping, ugly laugh that caused her heart to shim into a full-blown panic.

"Be damned to you, then," she cried, trying to sound fearless and failing. Whoever was in the maze with her was far from harmless. He was evil.

Wasn't there a trick about mazes, that if you kept a hand on one wall the entire time you'd soon find your way out? Whoever was watching her was somewhere near the center of the maze, and if she kept going that way, she'd run into him. The very last thing she wanted to do. She had two choices, either the right way or the wrong way. She could only pray that she chose the right way.

Putting her hand out, she started moving, quickly, her feet stumbling a little bit over the ground as she moved.

And then she heard him behind her, the noise growing louder as he moved with her. Which meant she was heading in the right direction, she thought, almost sobbing with relief. If she'd been heading toward him he simply would have waited for her, like a spider.

She sped up, ignoring scratches from the greenery, ignoring the lingering pain in her ankle from her recent fall.

Faster, faster, her own breath catching in her throat, the stays digging into her, the branches catching on her flying domino. She was going to be murdered, someone would toss her body in the Thames—no one would ever find her, if she didn't move faster—

The entrance to the maze appeared before she realized where she was. She stumbled out onto the pathway, her breath sobbing in her throat, straight into the arms of a well-dressed gentleman, almost knocking him over.

He put out strong, gloved hands to right her. The night had grown darker, and thank God she still wore her mask.

Because the man who held her arms was none other than Adrian, Viscount Rohan.

16

"Dear lady," Rohan said in that well-remembered voice, "may I be of assistance?"

She pulled herself away from him> stumbling a little on her weak ankle, as a wash of feelings tumbled over her. Relief. He couldn't have been the one chasing her through the maze. Someone else had been the threat, real or imagined.

Relief that he didn't recognize her. She had only a moment to think—should she try a French accent, or the cockney one Meggie had been coaching her on? She could manage a Yorkshire accent from living up north with her family, but it all seemed a bit too complicated. Chances were he wouldn't recognize her voice, but a bit of hoarseness would ensure it.

"Someone was in the maze, following me," she said in a breathless, throaty voice.

He moved past her lo the entrance of the maze, pausing to listen. The silence was deafening. He turned and smiled at her, that charming smile that seldom reached into his fine eyes. For some reason it seemed to on this occasion, his hard blue eyes bright. Doubtless a trick of the lamplight.

"Whoever it was is gone now," he said. "But you should scarcely be out alone. Where is your escort?"

"My friend has gone in search of him," she said with all honesty. The problem with keeping her voice soft and husky is that it gave an unwanted intimacy to the conversation. "I decided rather than wait I would hire a hackney or a sedan chair to convey me home."

"Then allow me to accompany you until you procure one. It would be terribly remiss of me to allow a beautiful lady to wander alone on these dark paths.

She had only a moment to consider the wonder of being called a "beautiful lady" before she shook her head. "I thank you, sir, but I am more than capable of seeing to my own welfare."

"To wit, you wandered into a maze alone and were nearly assaulted. A gentleman couldn't possibly abandon a lady under such circumstances." His smile was so charming, so seemingly innocent, that she was both seduced and outraged. Outraged that his charm could be spread so easily to all and sundry, that he could fail to recognize her. Seduced because all the man had to do was look at her and her bones melted.

Had she learned nothing from her sojourn in the country, in his bed? It didn't matter how delicious he could make her feel. She was nothing more than a vessel for his lust, interchangeable, and the glorious, transcendent response he was able to coax from her wasn't worth the shame of his contemptuous treatment and dismissal.

And yet...

"'No," she said firmly. "No, thank you, my lord. You're very kind, but I cannot be convinced that your company would be any safer than that of the man in the maze."

He laughed then. "You have every right to be careful. I'm capable of very bad behavior indeed. But I do stop short of pressing my attentions on women I don't know. I'm offering you safe escort, nothing more."

She was more than ready to keep arguing, when in the distance she heard Lina's voice, hectoring Sir Percy. "I saw her come this way..."

"Is that your companion?" he questioned politely.

"No!" If he recognized Lina it would only be a moment before he recognized her. She had to think fast. "Indeed, I would appreciate your assistance. Let's go."

Was there a trace of triumph on his mouth? She simply put her gloved hand on his arm and proceeded

His hand covered hers. "Wrong direction.” Bloody hell, she thought, certain he was about to turn her in the direction of Lina's voice, but instead he simply pulled her onto one of the side paths, into the darkness, moments before Lina and Sir Percy arrived on the scene.

She was moving so quickly she didn't stop to consider that he was making no effort to slow her rapid pace. His long legs kept up with her, and within moments they were out of earshot as well as out of sight, and she breathed a sigh of relief as he led her farther along the darkened path, slowing her headlong pace.