‘Wait!’ She caught at the edge of the door before it closed. ‘I have a friend. I need to send word that I’m all right or she’ll be worried.’
‘An accomplice?’ He half opened the door again, still blocking the way out with his body. ‘Was that why you were going to Helmsley, to meet her?’
‘No. That is...not her.’
He narrowed his gaze suspiciously. Did she have two accomplices, then? Her evasiveness suggested that one of them was a man—a lover? That was the most likely answer, though the idea of her having another suitor hadn’t crossed his mind until now. He didn’t like it.
‘If I could just send a message...please?’
He gave an unsympathetic snort. If she’d been going to meet a lover, then he had absolutely no intention of setting the man’s mind at rest so easily. If whoever it was wanted to marry her, then he ought to have come and confronted him man to man, not plotted an elopement behind his back.
‘No.’
‘But...’
‘No!’ His voice sounded even fiercer than he’d intended. ‘If you think that I’m going to send anyone out in this weather, then you’re even more of a little fool than I thought!’
She drew in a sharp breath at the insult, though she still didn’t flinch, staring back at him instead with an expression of intense loathing.
‘Then I’ll wait here until the storm clears. After that, you’ve no right to keep me.’
‘You’re absolutely right, I don’t. Though I doubt the storm will clear by tonight and unless you want to leave in the dark then I’m afraid you’re stuck here with me, a renowned libertine, and without, as my housekeeper so delicately pointed out, a chaperon. Whatever your plans for the future, I hope they don’t depend on your keeping a good reputation.’
Her defiant expression crumpled into one of horror. ‘But that’s monstrous! No one would ever employ me if they knew. You wouldn’t be so cruel!’
‘Didn’t you pay any attention to all that gossip? If you had, then you’d know very well that I would.’ He smiled mirthlessly. ‘Welcome to Amberton Castle, Miss Harper. I hope that you have a good night.’
‘Miss Harper?’
Violet frowned in her sleep. The voice in her dream seemed to be coming from a distance, but she had no idea what it was doing there. It was a woman’s voice, though she didn’t recognise it, repeating her name over and over, though that made no sense either. In her dream, she was out alone on the moors, desperately trying to find shelter as towers of snow piled up higher and deeper around her, imprisoning her behind their thick, white, impenetrable walls. She was lost and afraid, without any hope of rescue...
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