Page 49 of Gone with the Rake

“Maybe you should leave it alone then. It’s not your responsibility anymore.”

“I have to try.” Her features were resolute now as she squared her shoulders.

“Fine, but I’ll go with you.”

Lydia looped her arm through Honoria’s and they headed in the direction of the earl. And that’s when she saw him.

Art.

He stood by the table with the champagne fountain, his gaze fixed on the entrance. He was wearing all black except for a white shirt, a crisp white cravat, and a red lily peeking out of his front pocket.

A lily.

Lydia faltered.

Honoria leaned toward her. “What’s wrong?”

Lydia discreetly pointed at Art and whispered, “He’s here.”

Honoria slowly disengaged from Lydia. “Then you should go to him.”

“I can’t leave you alone,” Lydia started to protest, but Honoria shook her head.

“We can’t afford to waste our time. You do what we came here to do. I’ll do what I think is right for the family I am leaving behind. And we shall meet in the carriage once we are done. Do you concur?”

Lydia hesitated. “I can’t leave you alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I shall be with the earl. No matter what happens, I trust him. He is an honorable man.”

“But how will you—” persuade him to leave? Lydia didn’t get to finish the question as Honoria stepped away and quickly weaved her way through the crowd.

Damn and blast.

What could possibly be her plan? How would she approach the earl in her disguise and persuade him to leave the masquerade without disclosing who she was? Because if she did disclose her identity, there was no doubt the earl would insist on bringing her back home.

Lydia watched as Honoria stubbornly made her way toward her employer. Then, with a growl of frustration, she turned back to Art.

Now, she had no retreat. She needed to do what she came here to do, and then she would be able to assist her friend in escaping from the masquerade.

She had no time to waste.

Putting on a tight smile, she pivoted toward the man she used to love. Her knees felt weak, and her vision blurred before her eyes as she moved.

Thorn stood a few feet away, sipping champagne. His gaze raked the people in the hell. Suddenly, he turned and looked straight at her.

That gaze stopped her in her tracks.

Lydia felt hot, her palms perspired, and her mind went numb.

She could recall every little decision that led her to this very moment. The moment she would have to face the man she used to love.

* * *

Thorn slowly sipped his champagne, watching the people around him dance, flirt, and drink. Some people were indulging in shameless flirting, others were openly kissing.

Thorn was on his first glass of drink, although he would have finished the entire bottle from nerves. And yet, he knew that it wouldn’t aid his cause.

His hands shook, and sweat lined his forehead. Whether from anticipation or from the heat of the hell, he did not know. His gaze roamed the hall, looking for the woman who tricked him into coming here. He was angry and irritated, wishing he could just go home and get to bed. Perhaps finish a bottle of whisky and fall asleep for a long, long time.