‘Thank God,’ he muttered, as he tipped Lillian over to stand on her feet inside the half empty hanging space. Clothing was tossed to one side and he stepped in with Lillian, having to press tightly against her to close the door behind him. Shivers wracked her body and he glanced at the floor, using his toe to shift the garments in the hope of finding something to cover her nakedness. The chattering of her teeth sounded loud in the silence and he put his finger to her lips to urge her to muffle the sound. She nodded and put her finger between her teeth. ‘Jesus, don’t bite yourself.’ Worry for her had his mind spinning but he spotted a scarf draped over a hanging nail and used it to wrap her neck and slide it between her teeth.
She gave him a grateful smile but dropped the scarf from her mouth when the door was flung open so hard that it hit the wall. Tucking the scarf between her teeth, he lifted his white shirt from the floor and eased it over her head, sliding each arm into the sleeves slowly and carefully. Lillian sensed his caution and followed his lead until the short hem dropped to her thighs. Relief overwhelmed him and he thanked the deities that at least she’d be covered if one of the intruders opened the wardrobe doors.
Taking one end of the silk scarf, he indicated how it could be pulled across her face as a replacement to the mask and she gave a nod of acknowledgement. Her easy acceptance of the situation and his instructions boosted his opinion of her intelligence, though he’d always known she was exceptional for a lady of the peerage. The duke, her father, had a low opinions of females who showed initiative and intellect and his censure had pushed Lillian to spend most of her time at the duke’s country estate, for which Brent had always been thankful.
Her face creased with worry lines and, thinking she was still cold, he rubbed her arms from wrists to shoulder with his bare hands. A head shake told him he was incorrect, and a finger pointed at his bared chest, and his exposed groin, led him to the answer. Sweet Lillian, his Lillian, was worrying about him, rather than her own predicament. His face split into a huge grin, which also puzzled her as she frowned harder.
‘Later,’ he whispered in her ear.
When they were out of danger from discovery, he’d explain how much he admired her and her compassion for others. Few tonnish ladies would have coped in a wardrobe and would most likely be screaming loudly enough to bring every guest running. His late wife would have berated him, loudly, if they’d been caught in this situation, although with him she’d acted conservatively and almost prudishly for most of their marriage, another reason her affairs had been such a shock to him. Marion acting impulsively, slinking off to clandestine assignations that made no sense to him, leading him to the miserable conclusion that something lacking in his character had pushed her into affairs with married men. His cross to bear, and his alone.
Loud voices sounded in the bedchamber and he and Lillian put their ears to the wooden panel to listen. A woman, or perhaps two, were giggling and shrieking while at least two male voices issued orders, though with a hint of amusement lightening their gruff commands. The handle lifted from the catch silently and Brent opened the wardrobe door a fraction, allowing them to catch more of the silly conversation and to sneak a glimpse of their unwanted intruders.
Damn his stupidity for not checking that the door from the corridor was properly locked, and for being so caught up in thoughts of Lillian’s luscious curves that he must have neglected to turn the key fully in the lock.
‘Lucky I have a key to all the rooms,’ a male voice announced, and he could see a key dangling from the fingertips of a gentleman.
He grimaced, and at Lillian’s look of concern whispered, ‘Browning. Master key.’ Thankfully the scarf covered her shocked gasp. How unlucky could they be that their host would bring his friends to this particular room, and how stupid of Browning not to notice their remaining garments, including masks, scattered across the floor. Their host most likely didn’t care that other guests may be secreted in the room and playing voyeur, or else he knew they were in the wardrobe and wanted to provide some extra entertainment.