Amy was almost ready to give up when she heard a commotion in the hall and the sound of a man’s voice, apologising for his lateness. It was him! She touched her sister’s shoulder in apology and was out of her seat and halfway down the aisle before she realised the truth.
Mr Lovell stood in the doorway to the room, scanning the crowd for an empty chair. By leaving hers, she had played directly into his hands, all but saving the perfect seat for him. Past him, she heard the sound of another latecomer. Certainly, that was Mr Templeton. If it was not, any other man would be a better companion than the one she had been trying to discourage. What was she to do?
She continued forward blindly, pretending she did not notice him, though she could see through the lashes of her downcast eyes that his mouth was open, ready to greet her. When she was barely an arm’s length away, she feigned a swoon.
His fingers closed around her upper arm in support catching her before she collapsed. ‘Amelia.’ His urgent whisper of concern sounded surprisingly sincere.
‘Please,’ she whispered back. ‘Help me from the room. The air is so close. The heat...’ It was neither warm nor stuffy in the music room. If anything, she was glad of her shawl. But he had not been there long enough to notice, nor did he show any signs of questioning her distress.
Instead, he maintained his grip on her arm, turning to add a gentlemanly hand at the centre of her back as he escorted her from the room. A footman who was dealing with Mr Templeton’s hat and stick leaned in, ready to help.
Amy waved him away with a gloved hand and then gestured to the other late arrival. ‘Please, Mr Templeton,’ she said, fluttering her lashes as though struggling to remain conscious. ‘See to my sister. She is alone at the front of the room.’
Mr Templeton hesitated, ready to help her instead.
She shook her head and, as they passed him, she gave a sharp jerk of her head to indicate that he go immediately to the place he really wanted to be. Then she followed it with an annoyed roll of her eyes to the man at her side.
Mr Lovell was too busy ushering her forward to notice this silent communication. But clearly, Mr Templeton understood. He responded with a slow smile and a nod of thanks before turning towards the music room so he might take her unoccupied chair.
Now that he was settled, she must figure out how to free herself from the situation she had created with Mr Lovell. It was a large house. Large enough to hide a body in, she thought with a grim smile. She need do nothing as dire as that. She just had to find an empty room with a key still in the door, or a chair that might be propped under a handle to detain this troublemaker.
‘I will find someone to help you.’ He looked around. ‘A maid, perhaps.’
‘The ladies’ retiring room,’ she said faintly. ‘If you could escort me there, I am sure I will be fine.’ She raised a limp hand and pointed down a corridor that the servants had not bothered to light.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, confused. ‘I would have thought...upstairs, perhaps...’
‘I have been here before,’ she assured him. ‘I know the way.’
He did not question further, but shepherded her in the direction she had suggested, towards the perfect spot.
When they drew abreast of it, she reached across his body and gripped the handle, turning it and giving a sharp, sudden tug to open the door beside him. At the same time, she staggered into him, pushing him off balance and through the darkened opening.
He had time for one brief, surprised curse as he realised what was happening. Then he grabbed her by the shoulder and carried her body along with his. They lurched together over the threshold, as the door slammed shut behind them.
Chapter Seven
It had been a grave miscalculation.
Amy had had a vague recollection of the Middleton house, from previous visits. The door she’d thought she was choosing opened on to a small card room. It was well away from the rest of the house, but hardly uncomfortable.
Perhaps she should have turned right instead of left. The door she’d actually opened was for a cupboard. Now she was wedged chest to breast with Benjamin Lovell, in a space that was never meant to hold one person, much less two.
There was a moment of silence in the darkness punctuated by the sounds of their laboured breathing. Then he said in a low voice, so near to her ear that she could feel his breath moving her hair, ‘Why, Miss Summoner, I had no idea you cared.’
Her own breath hissed out between her teeth as she stifled a dozen possible responses, all of them caustic. But it was her fault that they were here. It would only make things worse to snap at him.