“Let us return to Lord Pottinger’s side,” she stated, as Tara swallowed hard. “We will find Lord Stoneleigh and Lady Sara soon, but we ought not to leave him alone.”
Tara nodded, her throat tight with fear and worry as she hurried back towards the door where she had seen that particular gentleman lead the young lady. Mary herself fell silent, only to stop for a moment, waving one hand at something or someone, but Tara barely paid any attention. Finding the door, Tara closed her eyes, one hand going to her heart.
“Lord Pottinger is not here. He must have followed the gentleman and the young lady.”
“He went in here?”
Tara nodded, bolstering her courage as she lifted her chin and set her shoulders. Without another word she stepped forward, turning the handle and stepping through the door, silently preparing herself for exactly what it was she would see.
To her slight disappointment, it opened only into a hallway, but a murmur of voices caught her attention. Putting one finger to her lips, she glanced at Mary, and then she began to walk up the hallway, although it did not take long for her to spy Lord Pottinger. He was sitting on a small wooden chair, half hidden by a tall fern in a china vase. His jaw was set and his eyes deep, dark blue and he did not so much as smile at her but held out his hand, which she took at once.
“He has just gone inside with the young lady,” he murmured. “No doubt someone will be looking for her very soon, by which time his plan will be fully enacted. We must prevent that from happening again.”
Tara nodded firmly, trying to encourage a little more confidence within herself.
“Then let us make our way inside.”
A sound came from behind her, and she turned her head, only to see Lord Stoneleigh and Lady Sara hurrying towards them. Evidently, her sister had seen them as they made their way to the hallway, and their presence bolstered Tara’s strength a little more. In only a few moments she would be face to face with the gentleman who had threatened her, intimidated her, and forced her to act in a way she would never have done voluntarily.
Lord Pottinger squeezed her hand as though he understood her anxiety. Without another word, he got to his feet and made his way toward the door, leading Tara with him.
“Prepare yourselves.”
He took a deep breath before he set one hand on the door handle, then the next moment, he turned it quickly and pushed it open, making his way determinedly inside.
Darkness was their only greeting, but as Tara pushed her way forward, following Lord Pottinger’s lead, she heard a soft exclamation and a growl of frustration.
It seemed as though they had found their culprit.
Chapter Eleven
James did not hesitate. Seeing Lord Stoneleigh and Lady Sara approaching, he gave his friend a swift nod which was returned at once. Evidently, Lord Stoneleigh knew precisely what it was that James meant to do and, after taking a breath, he pushed open the door.
A soft exclamation came at once, which James assumed was from the young lady that the gentleman had taken into this room. This was immediately followed by a slight cry of fear, as if perhaps she had only just realized what this meant for her reputation, as the gentleman himself let out a low growl.
“Whatever is the meaning of this?”
A gentleman’s voice, loud, brash, and angry, echoed around the room, and at the same moment that he spoke, Miss Shaw grasped James’ hand a little more tightly. Glancing at her, he could not make out her expression in the gloom, but given the tightening of her fingers, he considered that she was, in fact, a little afraid. Perhaps it was that she now recognized the voice, which meant that there could be no doubt thatthiswas the same man who had taken Mary into a room such as this… and who had caused so much pain and strife thereafter.
“I could ask you the same.” James stepped a little further forward, pulling his mask off and flinging it aside, trying to make the man out through the darkness, but no illumination was offered him save for a single, flickering candle to his left. Another glance behind him showed that Lord Stoneleigh, Lady Sara, and Miss Mary Shaw were all framed in the doorway, making certain that the gentleman and the young lady in the room would not be able to pass easily.
“A little more illumination is required, I think.”
Much to James’s astonishment, it was Miss Shaw who released his hand and then moved forward, picking up the single candle and using it to light a few others, her mask now dangling from her fingers. Slowly, the room began to grow a little brighter, and James hurried closer, coming to stand beside Miss Shaw as she held the final candle and candlestick in her hand.
They all stood before the gentleman and James took him in. He was tall, with wide shoulders and a small, dark beard. To James’ frustration, there was a smile playing about his thin lips and his small eyes glittered with malice. The young lady beside him stood quietly, her head low and her hands clasped tightly in front of her. James’ lip curled. He had no doubt that this fellow was the perpetrator of his own suffering.
Before he could say anything, however, Miss Shaw spoke up again. Her confidence in the face of her tormentor brought nothing but admiration to him.
“And what is your name?”
Her voice was soft and quiet, and it was not to the gentleman that she spoke, James realized, but rather to the young lady beside him. Stretching out to one hand towards her, she encouraged her to speak, but it took some moments for the girl to respond.
“Miss Attison.” She dropped her head, looking at her clasped hands. “I am quite ruined, am I not?”
Her voice was thick, with tears breaking through the obvious distress which now plagued her.
Miss Shaw spoke quickly.
